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“Would you stay with me? Just for a little while?” There I go again, being needy, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he wastes no time pulling back the blankets. I scoot over, rolling onto my left side so my back is to him when he settles in. The arm he drapes around me is like magic, easing whatever little bit of fear is left in me.
And now I am intensely aware of his nearness. Of having his body so close to mine, with only my thin nightshirt and shorts between us. It would be one thing if I didn’t have the memory of his touch weighing on my mind, my nerves tingling at the possibility of knowing that sort of pleasure again. It would be one thing if I had nothing but fantasies of what it might be like to have his hands on me. If I could only imagine whether he’d know just how to work my body into a frenzy.
Now I know. It could be a subconscious craving for nearness, intimacy, something to lose myself in, but the reason behind a slow unfurling of awareness deep in my core doesn’t matter. The result is the same, either way. I want him. I want him to take me away. To make me forget everything for a little while and sink into deep, delicious pleasure.
My body takes over for me, my ass wiggling a little against him in a way I know is bound to wake up what’s under those briefs. I felt it against me in the car. How hard he was. How big he is.
He lets out a strangled choking sound. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” I whisper, my heart in my throat and my ass against his dick.
“You don’t have to do that.” His hand is on my thigh, though, but his touch isn’t sexual. I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. This is not the way he’s supposed to react.
“But I want to.” It’s easy to say it when my back is to him, when he can’t see the growing embarrassment written on my face. Was this a complete mistake? I don’t want to think it was, but he’s making me wonder.
Instead of his hand creeping farther up my thigh, he pats my leg before wrapping his arm around me again. “Someday soon, we will. But not now.”
“Why not?” I hate the disappointment in my voice, but I can’t help it.
“Because you aren’t ready yet.” When I draw a breath, prepared to ask exactly what that’s supposed to mean, he makes a shushing sound like he’s quieting a child. “I would never take advantage of you, beautiful. And that’s what I would do now if I gave in to what we both want. Our time is coming, though. Make no mistake about that.” He presses a kiss against my ear, my jaw, the side of my neck. “For now, sleep. You need rest more than anything.”
Normally, I would ask exactly who he thinks he is, telling me what I need. But he’s right, unfortunately. I’m already fighting to keep my eyes open as it is.
Before I can thank him for being so understanding and considerate, I drift back off. This time, there are no nightmares. There’s no anything. Just deep, solid sleep.
And when I wake to sunlight streaming through the window, I’m the only one in the bed.
21
CHRISTIAN
This is the most nervous I’ve ever been in my life. In fact, I can’t recall a time when anything ever got under my skin. I’m not easily rattled, and the things that make most people squirm do nothing to me. I mean, how could it when you literally feel nothing—only pain, darkness, and destruction.
Yet, here I am, my insides turning flips as I drive Siân’s old Chevy down the highway. Tonight, she’s introducing me to the woman she calls her caretaker and insisted we take her car and not mine. Something about it being too flashy and wanting the woman to like me. Honestly, I can’t care less. I’m taking her away from here soon, so getting to know this woman—whoever she is, matters none to me. But until that time comes, I’ll go along with Siân’s plan.
“Relax,” she says from the passenger seat. Siân reaches for my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.
I glance between her and the road. “I’m relaxed.”
Siân chuckles, though the gesture is so subtle I barely notice it. “Tell that to your face.”
Wetting dry lips, I smile. “Why don’t you help me calm down, then?” I throw my gaze in her direction again, catching sight of the blush creeping across her features.
“Christian,” she squeals.
“What? You’re the one worried about my nerves. It’s only right you help settle them.”
She stares at me as if she’s waiting to see if I’m serious or not. When I don’t say anything else, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
