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An involuntary wheeze escapes. Bree in my T-shirt? Fucked. I'm so fucked. How the hell am I supposed to sleep in a bed with her, while she's wearing my t-shirt no less, and hide my dick's reaction to her? I was relying on wearing that damned t-shirt to cover it, but now all I can think about is seeing her in it.
I snatch it off the hanger, and open the door to the walk in closet, shirt bunched tightly in my fist. Drawn to her like a magnet, I stop an inch from the tips of her toenails. "Yellow," I say, staring at the bright polish. "It's so...sunshiny."
She drops her head to my chest, staring down, a smile in her voice when she answers. "I can be sunshiny sometimes." She raises her head, giving me a challenging look.
"I believe it. I'd love to see more of it though."
"More sunshine?"
"Just more. More sunshine, more smiles. More of your happiness."
She sobers, searching my face. Finally she nods. "I'm working on it."
I can't resist her. I let myself tuck her hair behind her ear, and cup her cheek. "I know you are. I see how hard you're working to get better."
She briefly cups her hand over mine, then with the other hand tugs the shirt out of my grasp. She's closed in the bathroom before I can breathe. I drop to the side of the bed and cup my hands around my neck. I can do this. I can follow her lead and control myself. I'm not some kid desperate for a fuck. I'm playing the long game here.
I'm playing for keeps.
"There has got to be a story here," Bree says. I suck in a deep breath and give myself a full exhale before looking up. Standing in the doorway of the bathroom, hands braced on either side of the doorframe, light on behind her, it's worse than I imagined. So fucked. As expected, the material of the shirt is baggy and loose, but I didn't realize how thin it was. With the light behind her, every curve, every dip of her body is on display.
And there are a lot of curves.
A lot.
I like all women. Young, old, tall and short, skinny or fat. But Bree is ticking every perfect box I didn't know I had. The thickness of her thighs, the curvy strength of her bare calves, the roundness of her tummy, the strength in her shoulders. She's steel wrapped in warmth and softness.
She's everything I never knew I wanted.
"Nick?"
I shake myself out of the stupor a glimpse of her body put me into, and try for a smile. "Our one and only trip to New Orleans. Colton and I stumbled across this joint with an all you can eat challenge. Prawns," I say, pointing to the giant cartoon prawn on the front of the white shirt. The prawn is faded, the once bright red now cracked and softened after repeated wear. "We both went for it, but Colton tapped out."
Her eyes widen comically. "You ate more than Colton? How is that possible?"
"I don't think I could do it again if I tried, but that night, I was on a mission. I cared more about beating Colton than whatever the prize was."
"How many did you eat?"
"I have no idea. The bowl was bigger than Colton's head, and we only had five minutes. I haven't eaten a prawn since that day."
"Oh my god," she says, laughing. There I go getting distracted again, but who could blame me, really? Her laughter makes her breasts bounce enticingly. "And you ended up with a giant T-shirt? This thing must be a 5X."
"Yeah. They said it was the only one they had. I refused to take it off for the rest of the trip. Every time Colton sees it, it makes him grumpy. It's a fuck of a lot of fun, so I've worn it a lot over the last ten years. I don't think it was the highest quality fabric to begin with, so...um, it's a little thin."
She runs her hand over her hip, an unconsciously sensual move. "It's so soft now," she murmurs.
"Yeah," I squeak, a wave of heat washing over me. Dios. I haven't felt like this since I was in my teens. Maybe not even then. Ransom preached control at all times, and we bought in. Control over our minds, control over our emotions, and definitely control over our bodies. I thought I had that last one mastered, but Bree is proving me wrong.
She bites her lip as she stares at me and there's another uncomfortable jerk in my shorts. Pulling that lip of hers out from between her teeth and nibbling on it is about all I can think about. Slow, go slow. She's in charge.
She lets go of her lip, takes a deep breath, and pushes off the door, coming to stand at my bent knees. She's trying to make me break. She has to be. "Which side am I sleeping on?" she asks quietly.
I rub my hands down my thighs and grip my knees. "Whichever you want. It doesn't really matter. You ended up on top of me last night. I'm guessing we'll have a repeat tonight."
Her hands cup her cheeks. "Oh god, I did, didn't I. I'm so sorry." I shrug because I'm not even a bit sorry, and I tell her so, but she doesn't look convinced. "I should go to my place and leave you in peace."
Her body makes the slightest sway back, and I'm moving before my brain engages. Giving into my instincts, I clamp my hands on her hips and yank her into me on the side of the bed. She's tall, really tall, but so am I. Those two things together equal Bree's delightful chest pressed right into my face. She squeaks and plants her hands on my shoulders, but the movement I'm waiting for, the one I promised I'd respect, doesn't come. She doesn't push me away. Instead, her fingers curl into my bare shoulders, gripping tightly. The rest of her is frozen.
