Page 60 of Wish I Might
He made sure his expression held only mild amusement when he turned back.“It’s too hot to do anything else.”
She huffed out a laugh.“True.”
“Pick a side,” he invited with a wave at the bed.“I’m going to hit the bathroom.”
She nodded, shifting away from the doorway so he could pass by, and he didn’t let out the breath he was holding until he’d shut the bathroom door behind him.
He didn’t have to piss—or at least not enough to fight through the half-hard-on to try—but he needed a minute.He turned on the cold water, letting it run full in the sink, then dunked his head under the faucet.
It shocked him awake, cut through the hazy heat muddling his brain so he could think clearly.He lifted his head to look in the mirror over the sink, hair and face dripping.“You’re a grown man,” he mumbled out loud, staring into his own eyes while water streamed into the sink.“You can do this.”
Was it going to be easy?Hell, no.Spending the night with Bailey lying next to him, knowing he couldn’t touch her, was the closest thing to torture he could think of, and it was a good thing blue balls wasn’t fatal, because his would be cobalt by morning.But he’d fucking deal, because the alternatives were unacceptable.He couldn’t let her sleep on the couch, and he couldn’t break her no-sex decree.
He supposed he could sleep on the couch—that would be the truly gentlemanly thing to do.But it turned out that in addition to being a glutton for punishment, he wasn’t that much of a gentleman.So they’d sleep, and he’d suffer, and hopefully in doing so prove to her that he could be trusted.
He shut off the water and grabbed a towel.He scrubbed it over his hair and face with a force that bordered on violence, then slapped it back on the rack and turned off the bathroom light to return to the temporary hell of his bed.
She’d left the light on, giving him no choice but to see her.She lay on the far side of the mattress, snuggled up on her side, the sheet a tangle at her feet.
She looked so beautiful, so goddamnrightlying in his bed, waiting for him, the last eight years of hope realized.Emotion reared up to grab him by the throat, and he stopped dead in the doorway.
She came up on one elbow, tits shifting and swaying under the thin tank, a frown on her face.“Everything okay?”
“Fine.”He forced the word out, forced himself to move.He turned off the light, hoping the lack of sight would make the whole thing easier.
“I can sleep on the other side if you want,” she said, her voice coming at him in the darkness, and he realized nothing was going to make this easier.
“I don’t,” he assured her, though part of him yearned to sayyes, please, move so I can sleep on sheets that smell like you and torture myself all night.
“This was your idea,” she reminded him, irritation sharpening her tone.“I don’t know why you’re getting pissy.”
“I am not pissy, I’m tired,” he ground out and, out of delaying tactics, flopped down on the mattress with more force than he’d meant to.It dipped sharply, and she rolled toward him.
It was just a small shift, easily and quickly countered, but the movement stirred the air so her scent wafted to him, teasing his senses and his dick, and he let out a muffled curse.
“I can’t sleep if you’re going to mutter all night.”
“I’ll stop muttering if you’ll stop moving around.”
“I only moved because you flopped,” she said peevishly and jabbed an elbow into his side.
He grunted, gritting his teeth when her scent drifted his way again.His dick was never going down, dammit.“Look, it’s hot, it’s late, so just stop moving and go to sleep.”
“Fine,” she muttered and turned over on her other side.“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” he echoed, just as irritated and, closing his eyes, tried to will himself into unconsciousness.
Thirty seconds later he opened his eyes and sighed.
“Oh, Christ, now what?”
The irritation in her voice made him smile in spite of his discomfort.“I didn’t say anything.”
“You sighed.”
“So?I’m allowed to sigh in my own bed,” he said, enjoying himself now.
“Fine.Are you done now?”
