“My body is on the bed just fine,” I say, lying. Well, that was a short recovery time between workout sets.
Engage. The. Core.
“Okay,” he says. “Suit yourself.”
Awkward silence descends.
Every now and then, Xander moves his body. To rub his neck. To stretch his back. To find a more comfortable position. And it’s contagious. I’m feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute too, because every time he moves, it feels like the air has been sucked out of the space between us, so no matter how much distance I’ve created, it’s like we’re basically touching.
This is going to be way harder than I thought.
I creep along the hallway, returning from a quick bathroom intermission. It’s so quiet you can hear the whirring of the machines behind the doors marked Observation. I can just imagine Ben and a bunch of nerds huddling over their monitors, unlocking an interesting new discovery to the human sleep cycle they’ll study during the week. A loud snore cuts through the silence from behind one of the observation rooms.
Or not.
Judging by the darkness, we’re miles from morning. I woke up on my side of the bed, miraculously not touching Xander (yes, I would like a medal for my effort) even though every muscle in my body is aching from the restraint that I managed to show while asleep (yes, I would still like a medal for my subconscious effort). Xander was lying in bed with his ankles crossed and arms folded on his chest, and he looked peaceful until the light from my phone lit up the tips of his eyelashes, showing he was wide-awake.
I slowly open the door back to our sleep study room, ready to creep back into bed without saying a word when I see Xander standing. Maybe I did touch him during the night and he’s hereto implement a pillow barrier system? But no, he’s just standing. And staring.
Staringstaring. At me.
Like he wants me.
Before I know what’s happening, Xander closes the space between us.
Clutching my face with both hands, he lowers his lips to mine. He expertly traces kisses from my mouth to my neck, and the pace changes.
Xander slows down. He takes his time, savoring every kiss. My skin buzzes. Every touch feels like he’s marking me permanently with aXander was heretattoo. He lingers on my collarbone, trailing kisses along it before turning back to my lips then to my earlobe. I run my hands under his T-shirt toward his strong shoulders, feeling his muscles flex under my fingertips.
He hasn’t even touched me below the neck, and I’m losing it. The guy is a sexual magician. I lift his T-shirt to signal it’s time to take our clothes off, and it’s the first break in Xander’s mouth-to-skin contact. I’m already missing his lips when his hands graze the sides of my hips to slowly lift the flannel shirt I’m wearing and I gasp. In one smooth move he discards my shirt and gazes over my body before pressing his bare chest into mine and our lips collide again in sweet relief. His strong arms are wrapped around my back, keeping our bodies locked in place.
He presses his entire body into me, and I feel where his sweatpants frame the main event. I let out a whimper.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you,” he says, whispering in my ear, sending shock waves everywhere.
Gently, he pushes me back toward the bed, and his hands start to migrate south from my stomach. I will my legs not tobuckle and then mercifully I hit the bed and fall back, his body following mine onto the soft surface.
“Xander.” I let out a moan. And then …
I’m lying on my back. The room is light. My hands are between my legs.
And Xander is not on top of me.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
Oh fuckity fuck.
My heart starts racing. And not the good kind of racing, like you get from heart healthy cardiovascular activities such as running. No, this is the kind you reserve for panic attacks when you realize you just had a sex dream and have literally been caught with your hand in your pants.
I look over at Xander and he’s wide-awake, sitting upright and staring at me.
Just like in my dream. But not.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
I throw a pillow over my face, willing myself to disappear.
If there was ever a time to make a deal with the devil, that time is now.
