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Imprisoning her.
She had a vague recollection of him returning from the bathroom and picking her up from the sofa, but she’d been so bushed, it had felt like a dream.
Now she became acutely aware of the fact that her purloined t-shirt had ridden up over her butt and that the lacy thong she’d bought especially for her wedding night offered scant protection against the insistent hardness she felt pressing up against her.
He was naked. There was no denying that fact. And there was not a single layer of clothing between her naked skin and the rock-hard shaft pressed up against the curve of her behind.
“Don’t panic, okay,” he ground out, his voice intimate in the darkness.
“Hard not to panic with that thing pressed up against me,” she retorted, her own voice still husky with sleep. “I told you I don’t want this.”
“There’s no this happening. It’s just a natural physical reaction to your closeness.”
“I was asleep on the sofa. And considering the situation, you could have worn clothes, for God’s sake.”
He moved away from her until there was cool air where before had been scorching heat. Gooseflesh skittered along her skin and she shivered involuntarily.
“I sleep nude.”
“Then you should have left me on the sofa.”
“You looked uncomfortable. It’s a king-sized bed, I didn’t see the harm in sharing.”
“You didn’t see the harm in sharing?” she repeated, mimicking his deep voice. “You groped me the first chance you got.”
“I wasnae fuckin’ gropin’ you.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard his accent so thick and she understood that she’d hit a nerve. The room flooded with warm light to reveal her beautiful bare-chested husband, propped up against the headboard on his side of the bed, a sheet loosely draped over his still hard penis.
“You were all over me like a…a cheap suit.”
“You were having a nightmare. I tried to comfort you and I fell asleep holding you. The hard-on is merely a reaction to the way you were grinding your arse against my cock.”
She went bright red. Not sure if she had been grinding up against him. But since he looked simultaneously outraged and smug, it was a distinct possibility.
She climbed out of bed, and his eyes honed in on the shirt she was wearing.
“That’s my t-shirt.”
“Is it?” Yes, it was a dumb response, but her brain had shut down.
“You know it is. You would’ve had to go through my bag to get it.”
“Would I?”
“For fuck’s sake, Lilah.” There was a world of exasperation in his voice. “Are you going to tell me why you’re wearing my shirt or not?”
“No?”
“What?”
“I, uh…” Gah, she was terrible at coming up with on-the-spot lies. She was the world’s worst liar. “I forgot to pack a nightgown.”
Those cobalt eyes sharpened.
“Seems like an odd thing to forget, no?”
“I mean I do have sleepwear, of course. But they’re all in the suitcase. I just forgot to add a nightie to the overnight bag.”
“Isn’t that the entire purpose of an overnight bag? To pack the things you would need for the night and the following morning?”
“I forgot it, alright? It’s not a big deal.”
“Hmm…” Well, that sexy rumbling sound told her nothing. “I’ll need that shirt back. I’m wearing it on the flight.”
The thought of Ben wearing the shirt she’d slept in just the night before left Lilah feeling hot and itchy and uncomfortable. It would carry her scent, maybe still be warm from her body. The intimacy of it unnerved her greatly.
“I meant to get it laundered before you wore it again.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen. I’m not going through that bastard of a suitcase just to find a fresh t-shirt. That one will do me fine.”
“What’s the time?” Lilah asked, feeling it prudent to change the subject.
Ben lifted his phone. “Nearly five. The alarm will be going off in the next half hour or so anyway, best to just get dressed and order some breakfast.”
Last night’s untouched food was still spread all over the table and Lilah grimaced at the wastage. She didn’t think she’d fare much better with breakfast.
“You’re sure I can’t change your mind about the honeymoon? We can just skip it and avoid people until the two weeks are up.”
His expression remained hard as granite but a moment later he sighed and gave her a curt nod as if making his mind up about something.
“We could cut the trip short. Go for one week instead of two. I’m sure we could come up with a more plausible excuse for shortening the honeymoon than we would for cancelling it entirely. It’s a shite time for me to leave work anyway. I only agreed to this godforsaken trip because Cyrus would have found it odd if we skipped it.”
It was a fair compromise and Lilah pondered over it for a beat even though she knew he wasn’t going to give her a better deal than that.
