“It didn’t occur to me we’d be sharing a bed. And a small one at that.”
Ash looks at the bed and shrugs. “We’ll fit.”
Of course we’ll fit. But how well? Are we going to end up ass to ass? Will I wake up with my leg slung over him?
I’m already aroused from having him stroke my thigh at dinner. This will be torture.
“I’m going to shower,” Ash says as he heads out down the hall to the guest bathroom.
I go to my overnight bag and contemplate my options. I brought my sleep shorts and a cami. I normally take my bra off to sleep, but I decide to leave it on this time.
I want to shower as well, since seven hours of driving made me feel grimy, so I wait for Ash to return. He comes back wearing a loose pair of black sleep pants and a plain white undershirt.
I’m grateful he has the shirt on. I can see a few inches of some kind of tattoo down his left upper arm, but his shirt covers most of it. His chest and shoulder look darker under the left side of the white shirt, which makes me think the tattoo covers that whole side.
Ash is already in bed when I return from showering. I wear my bra,cami, sleep shorts, and – unusually – underwear. As I suspected, the bed looks so much smaller with him in it, but I stuff my dirty clothes into a plastic bag and head over resignedly.
Ash is on his back with his hands under his head, elbows out over his pillow. I climb in under the covers and lay on my back as close to the edge as possible before I turn out the lamp.
“How was dinner?” Ash asks me in the dark.
“It was nice,” I say. “A bit nerve-wracking, but your family is very welcoming.”
“Think we convinced them we’re dating?”
“You tell me. You know them better.” I pause. “I think Inga gave me a strange look at one point, but we may have saved things by the end.”
Ash turns over in bed toward me, and I jump as his hand slides over my stomach under the sheets.
“Does it bother you when I touch you?” he asks. “You seem to flinch when I do. I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”
The heat of Ash’s hand burns right through my cami, and I force myself to breathe before swallowing hard.
“I like being touched,” I say. “It just feels strange to have you do it. I know we’re supposed to be dating, but my mind knows we’re not, so I can’t help reacting.”
Ash skooches closer on the bed, and his damn thumb starts to stroke near my navel. His hand feels huge against me, and I’m acutely, achingly aware of how close it is to the waist of my sleep shorts.
“Maybe we just need to practice,” he says. “To let your body get used to me touching you.”
His breath ghosts across my ear as his shin presses into my calf under the sheets. My mouth goes bone dry, and my stomach feels like I suddenly swallowed soda and Pop Rocks, but the warmth of his body next to mine makes me want to snuggle into him.
Ash gently tugs the hem of my cami up so he’s touching bare flesh as he continues to stroke his thumb over my stomach, and I remind myselfto breathe. I should stop him, if only because this feels entirely too good, but I can’t move.
Ash moves even closer when I don’t stop him, and his hand slides higher so his thumb brushes the underside of my breast through my bra. His body is flush against mine, and I smell the musky scent of his bodywash. Air punches from my lungs as I let out a ragged breath.
“That’s it,” he whispers against my ear. “Just breathe.”
Ash props himself up on an elbow so his face hovers above mine. “We should probably practice kissing as well.”
The line is so cheesy and so obvious I want to laugh, but I can’t bring myself to call him on it. Or to stop him for that matter. I’m paralyzed as he lowers his head, and his lips brush mine. I lift my own head the barest amount to meet him, and Ash rewards me by pressing his lips down more firmly. Every nerve in my body comes alive as his hand cups my breast under my cami, and I grab his forearm to anchor myself. I feel the steely muscles and snaking veins under my fingertips.
Ash’s tongue parts my lips to slip into my mouth, and I taste the mint of his toothpaste. He deepens the kiss as his hand kneads my breast, and I can’t stop the needy moan that escapes my throat.
Ash breaks off the kiss and rests his forehead on mine. “Fuck, Gray. Don’t make noises like that, or I’ll lose what little self-control I have left.”
We’re both breathing hard.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur as I slide my hand up to his bicep.
