I can still feel her soft lips on mine. Taste the salty sweetness left behind from her sweat. I wanted to lick it off her, explore her mouthwith my tongue, claim her lips as mine, but I couldn’t. I know she’s pissed at me. But if I kissed her back, I’m not sure I would have been able to stop.
I turn around to see Brielle wearing pink silk pajama pants with little red hearts. Her matching tank top has a big red heart in the middle, and she is very clearly not wearing a bra under it.
As distracting as that is, my focus is on what’s she’s doing, not what she’s wearing. She pulls the bedcovers off the mattress, finding another thermal blanket underneath, and throws it onto the floor. It lands next to the pillow she’s already tossed from the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting your bed made up.”
My brows pinch, and I can feel a headache blooming behind my eyes. “I’m not sleeping on the floor, Brielle.” My tone brooks no argument.
Brielle glances up at me, surprise and frustration painted across her delicate features. “You’re really going to make me sleep on the floor?” A scoff, sharp and unamused, comes out of her in a puff, and she shakes her head. “Whatever.”
“No one is sleeping on the floor.”
“Then I hope the couch is comfy,” she counters.
This woman. No one has ever talked back at me the way she does. What I say goes unquestioned and unchallenged. Especially by one of my employees. But Brielle isn’t afraid to speak up, to oppose me, and I’m not sure if I like it or hate it.
“We are in a loving relationship, remember? I can’t be caught sleeping on the floor, and certainly not on the couch,” I tell her. I grab the pillow and blanket from the floor and toss them back onto the bed. She opens her mouth, but I cut her off before she can speak. “And neither can you.”
“No one will know what we do in this room,” she says.
I know she’s still talking about the sleeping arrangements, but that’s not where my mind goes. Dirty images of things we could get up to in this room fill my head.
“What did you think when you agreed to this trip? That they were going to give us bunk beds?”
She glares at me, her hand wrapped around the blanket again. She doesn’t break eye contact as she slowly lifts it up and tosses it to the floor again.
“Are you guys making a blanket fort?” Maggie bursts into the room, full of energy and excitement. “I love blanket forts!” she exclaims.
Panic flashes across Brielle’s face before she affixes a bright smile for Maggie’s benefit. “Oh, no. That would be fun, but Damian and I were just getting the bed made up the way we like it. I like one blanket, and he likes two,” she says.
“Maggie. You can’t just burst into someone else’s room without knocking. It’s not polite. Leave them be. It’s time for bed,” Courtney says, hustling into the room to collect her daughter. “Sorry about that.”
“Not a problem. She’s a great kid,” I tell her. It’s the truth. I’m not big on kids in general, but Maggie’s not too bad, for a five-year-old.
Courtney closes the door behind her as she marches Maggie away. I look back at Brielle with a smug challenge. We both know that there’s a good chance we’ll be woken up in the morning by a rambunctiousbundle of energy, and where we are sleeping will not go unnoticed.
“Fine,” she huffs. “I’ll stay on my side of the bed, and you can stay on yours.”
“Fine.”
Brielle fixes the bed that she destroyed while I get undressed. I can’t recall a single instance when I slept in bed with a woman who I haven’tslept with, and more often than not, I don’t do that either. Sleepovers aren’t really my thing. They tend to give the wrong impression, and I always want to ensure I’m clear in what I have to offer a partner, and a relationship isn’t on that list.
“Seriously?” Brielle looks me up and down as I stand at the side of the bed closest to the door in nothing but my briefs.
“This is how I sleep. I run hot at night.” I’m running hot right now with her looking at me like that. Even her bad attitude can’t mask the spark behind her eyes.
She rolls her eyes, turning her back to me to slip into bed. I lie beside her, listening to her breathing for a long while. Sleeping next to her is going to be a joke. I can feel every shift, hear every breath. The fabric of her cutesy little sleep set brushes against my arm, and she scoots further to the side of the bed. I want to wrap my arm around her waist and haul her back to me, but that can’t happen.Wecan’t happen.
I toss and turn, but I can’t fall asleep, and it seems like Brielle can’t either. When she turns around, I find myself face-to-face with her. My gaze is drawn to her perfect bow-shaped lips that have been on my mind all damn day. Her eyes are closed, but she’s clearly still awake like me.
“I know you’re mad at me, but I didn’t mean to offend you… earlier.” My voice is low and quiet. The stillness of the night does nothing to dampen them.
Brielle pushes away from me so she’s lying on her back and lets out a huff. I can’t help but follow her, rising to prop myself up with my arm, hovering nearer to her.
“Can we not talk about it? I’m not mad, okay.”
