I’ve never seen her ready for bed. The night in my hotel room doesn’t count because she was limited to what I had available for her, which wasn’t much when it came to skin care and pajamas.
At first, I thought she would probably be someone who wore matching sets and sleep masks. The image is adorable, but the longer I get to know her, the more wrong it feels. She’s not that put together—not in a bad way.
In a quietly chaotic but alluring way.
So, my guess is that she just throws on whatever feels comfiest that night.
And based on her large pile of laundry in the corner, whatever is clean.
The knob turns and I slowly look up, taking in her long, bare legs first.
She walks out more shy than I’ve ever seen and I’m completely enraptured by the sight.
Calypso wears an oversized, threadbare band tee and a pair of cotton panties. I can only see them because she fidgets with the hem of her shirt. Her hair is pulled into a bun and her face is shiny from her skin products.
“You probably had a different idea of how tonight was going to go,” she says. Her walls are erected, the same ones I thought were coming down after the last few days.
Leaning back on my hands, I make myself comfortable and watch her. I’m only in a pair of boxer-briefs and athletic shorts. I considered wearing a shirt but I hate sleeping in one. Plus we’ve already been intimate, and we are fucking adults.
I’m glad to see she agrees.
I crook a finger at her. She crosses her arms, mentally digging her heels in.
My lips slowly tug upward. “Please,” I say in a low, gravelly voice.
That one simple word has her feet movingcloser to me.
When she’s within reach, I grab her hips with both hands and pull her between my legs. “I tried to imagine what you’d look like when you came to bed,” I admit. “None of them did the current moment justice. It never does.”
She squints at me and I stare up at her with raw intensity. Her hand skims up my arm, stopping at my shoulder and tracing the outline of the devil horns with a finger. Electricity sparks in her wake, making my next words hard to get out, but they feel necessary.
“We’rejustgoing to bed tonight.” The words taste like tar, trying to stick to my vocal cords before it’s too late.
Her head whips in my direction. I can’t tell if she’s surprised or disappointed—maybe both.
She eyes me. “You said the choice would be mine.”
“I did.” I nod. “But I want to make sure things are really okay between us.”
“What are you talking about?” Her voice lowers, matching the warm lighting around us.
Tilting my head, I give her a patient look. “I’m talking about the beach. Er, rather, what was saidafterthe beach.”
That blank, unattached expression slowly slides into place. “So they thought we were fucking—not like we haven’t before. I don’t care what they say.”
No one actually saw anything, as far as we know, but the rumor mill was bound to turn our fairly innocent moment into something far more illicit.
“Neither do I.” Her brows raise, questioning me. “I care about you and your comfort. I’d rather be here with you, dying from blue balls—” she lets out a surprised snicker and a small smile cracks through, “—than have one more night with you, only to lose you to your own mind in the morning.”
She swallows, and her fingers twitch against my skin. I expect her to pull away, to start reinforcing the shield around her heart. Instead her nails dig into my shoulders as she makes herself hold on to me.
“So what you’re saying is…?”
“Tonight,I’mnot ready,” I admit.
Understanding washes over Calypso. Whether she truly wanted to cross that line tonight or not, she accepts my hesitancy, not seeing it as a game or rejection anymore.
She runs her hand up my neck and across my jaw. “You’re on my side of the bed.”
