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Noelle
The tricky thing about laying down the law is you also have to stick to those rules. And like a butt-hurt idiot, forty minutes ago I declared that Reid and I should pretend that nothing happened between us—that we never kissed so long and deep and hard that my bones turned to jelly.
Yeah, right.
He agreed, and my boss has been silent ever since. Withdrawn and pale. My heart aches every time I glance at him, his jaw harder than granite, those icy eyes fixed unerringly on Kermit’s antics. His damp hair is all rumpled from the shower, and his skin smells like the inn’s complimentary lemon-scented soap.
Is Reid okay?
Did I hurt his feelings?
Buthe’sthe one who ran away from our kiss like he was horrified. I did him a favor by drawing a line under it. Saved him from the thing he hates most in the world—an awkward conversation. Right?
It’s a relief when the movie ends and we can crawl under the bed covers. Part of me dreads that Reid will insist on sleeping on the floor, that he won’t allow something so pedestrian and intimate between us as sharing a bed, but he slides beneath the covers without comment. We both flick off our bedside lamps, sudden darkness filling the room.
Reid turns over, facing away from me, the sheets rustling against his clothes. He’s still dressed in his freaking shirt and pants, but hey. At least he’s not curled up in the shower tray, determined to keep away from my grabby hands.
“Night,” I say. My voice sounds weird.
“Goodnight.”
Oh, god.
This is so awkward.
Lying in bed with my boss, our breaths soft in the quiet, I’ve never been so aware of my body. The awkward sprawl of my limbs, never comfortable no matter how much I shift position. The itch of my still-damp hair against the back of my neck. My breathing. My gurgling stomach. My racing heart.
The wind moans outside our bedroom window, the blizzard still raging out there. Probably burying Reid’s car under mounds of heavy snow. Oh man, what if we’re trapped here another night? What if I have to spendanothernight lying beside my boss in bed, dying a slow, agonizing death of awkwardness?
“Stop fretting,” Reid snaps. “I’m not going to touch you, Noelle. You can stop gnawing on your fingernails.”
Balling my hand into a fist, I wrench it away from my mouth. Okay, so maybe I was stress-nibbling. Can’t he just go to sleep and leave me to freak out in peace?
“That’s not what I’m worried about, you giant jerk.”
Reid laughs, bitter and scornful. “Your December bonus is safe too. Go to sleep so we can get this night over with.”
Ugh. Flopping over onto my side, I glare at the shadowed outline of my boss, and picture smothering his beautiful head with a pillow.
It takes a long time. Takes what feels likehours,though Reid never shifts or rolls over to face me too.
But I fall asleep with a scowl on my face—and our earlier kiss still tingling on my lips.
* * *
Heat.
Comfort.
Safety.
When I surface from a fuzzy dream, I’m being held. Not just held—clutched. Gripped possessively in my boss’s arms, my back sealed against his marble chest. Held so tightly, it’s like he’s worried that pirates might steal me away in the night.
Reid’s sleeping breaths puff against my neck. Slow and deep.
His hard cock digs into my ass cheek.
Ah, crap.
