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"I am as tough as nails," I insist, then yawn and spoil the effect.
"Of course, you are." He carries me out of the shower cubicle, then lowers me down next to the bathtub. He reaches for one of the folded towels and wraps it over my head. He dries my hair quickly, then my body with brisk strokes. He rubs the same towel down his body, then tosses it aside. Why is it so intimate that he used the same towel on his body as he used on me? It’s just a towel. Doesn’t mean anything. He scoops me up in his arms and walks over to the bed. He lowers me to the ground, yanks the covers up, then jerks his head in the direction of the mattress.
I slide in and scoot over, turning over on my side. He pulls the sheet over me. The bed dips, and the next moment, the heat from his body envelops me. He slides his arm under my neck, wraps his other arm about my waist, and pulls me close. Then he spoons me. He freakin’ spoons and, OMG, it’s the most incredible sensation in the world. I can feel his hard body embracing every inch of my back, his cock—still semi-rigid—lays in the valley between my arse-cheeks, his thighs cradle mine, and his feet, oh his feet are so warm. I tuck my own freezing toes between his feet, and he chuckles. "Woman, your feet are like ice, and you just got out of the bath."
"So are my hands." I place my palm over his, and it feels so right. It’s just for one night. Doesn’t mean anything. Heat cocoons me and sinks into my blood. My muscles are so relaxed. My head feels so light. Clearly, the sex helped me relieve a lot of the tension I’ve been carrying. My eyelids flutter down, then I snap them open. "We didn’t use a condom," I exclaim.
There’s silence, then. "I’m clean. I can show you the paperwork tomorrow."
"I’m clean, too," I say slowly.
The silence stretches, then, "It’s not that I didn’t remember that we needed to use a condom, but I didn’t want to," he finally admits.
I stare at snow falling outside the window. "You didn’t want to use a condom?"
I sense him shake his head.
Then, "Are you okay if we don’t use a condom when I fuck you next?" He asks.
"What if I want you to use a condom?" I swallow.
"Doyouwant me to use a condom?" he parries.
Of course, I anticipated he’d answer my question with a question. Only, I hadn’t wanted to answer his question because… I don’t want him to use a condom. And damn, if that doesn’t surprise me.
I turn in his arms and glance up at him. "I’ve never allowed anyone to fuck me without a condom."
"I’ve never fucked a woman without a condom," he replies.
We glance at each other. His blue-green eyes are a dark blue in this light. He holds my gaze, then bends and kisses my nose again. "Don’t think too much about it. It’s you and me, baby, in this cottage. There’s no one else. Forget the outside world for the next few hours. It’s just us. You can be yourself. I promise, I won’t tell anyone."
I half smile. "As long as you’ll be yourself, too."
His gaze grows earnest as he replies, "Always, and only with you."
Why does that seem like a promise? Nah, it’s my imagination. Probably because I’m tired from the day.
"Okay." I nod.
"Okay." He kisses me on the lips, then tucks my head under his chin. "Sleep, so I can wake you up in the sexiest of ways."
My eyelids flutter down.
The images seem to flit over my mind almost as soon as I close my eyes. I know I’m dreaming, but I’m powerless to stop it. It’s always the same thing. Me chasing after Olly, who’s giggling and laughing as he runs from me. He steps on the road. I yell at him. He stops in the middle of the road and turns as a car bears down on him. He turns to see the car, and his gaze widens. "ZaraDi!" He yells my name with the honorific 'Di' added on at the end to symbolize his respect for me. Because I’m his bigger sister. Someone who should have been watching out for him. Someone who should have never let him escape my hold and stopped him before he stepped in the path of the car. Olly, my little squishy, smooshy Olly. Gone in the blink of an eye.
"Zara, open your eyes."
I snap my eyes open to find Hunter scowling down at me. His features are pale underneath his tan or maybe it’s just the moonlight that’s turning his face into an effigy carved out of marble? So smooth, yet so hard, and soft on the inside. He scans my features. "You were dreaming," he murmurs.
I swallow.
"I’ll get you some water."
He begins to pull away, but I grasp his arm. "No, don’t leave me."
He looks between my eyes, then nods. "Want to tell me about it?"
I shake my head.
