I can't believe I didn't hear her working around me. I'm not sure my ability to focus is as good of a thing as I once believed it was, because I should have stopped her. Should have sent her to bed so she could get the rest I know she needs. Instead, she likely spent hours cleaning up my mess.
Because I’m an asshole who was once again too wrapped up in his own shit to notice what was happening around him.
Standing from my chair, I stretch, working out the kinks inmy back and the tightness in my shoulders. I lean out my open door to peer down the hall, finding Mariah's door closed. I want to thank her. Want to tell her how much I appreciate everything she does for me. But I won't wake her up to do it.
Instead, I stumble into my dark bedroom, making my way to the attached bathroom. While I might not be dried out to the point of a migraine, staring at my computer screen for hours didn't do me any favors, and I can feel the beginnings of a throb at the base of my skull. So I leave the lights off as I peel away my clothes and step under the hot spray. After scrubbing down, I quickly dry off, making sure I throw my towel in the hamper since I don't want Mariah to feel like I'm completely incapable of cleaning up after myself.
It just didn't matter before. The state of my home was irrelevant. It didn’t affect anyone but me, and I didn’t give a shit about the mess. Still don’t.
But Mariah does. And I give a shit about her.
Mostly dry, I aim for my bed, dropping to the mattress, ready to get some sleep now that I know all my clients’ and McKinley Security’s private information are safe. Rolling to one side, I shift around until I find the edge of the covers so I can slide beneath them. It's not until I'm fully covered that the state of my bed registers.
It's warm.
That’s the only warning I get that I'm not alone before a soft and familiar body scoots close to me.
I freeze. Have I been awake so long I'm hallucinating? There've been times I worked thirty-six hours straight and didn't even realize it. When I did finally stop, I was almost delirious. Delirium would explain why I believe Mariah’s in my bed, winding her limbs around me as she lets out a soft snore.
It wouldn’t explain the very real press of her skin to mine. Or the horrifyingly fast hardening of my dick as she sighs contentedly.
Fuck. What in the hell do I do?
She’s managed to tangle her body with mine so quickly there wasn’t an opportunity to stop her. If I move now, it'll wake her up. If Mariah wakes up, she's going to notice I'm naked. And if she notices I'm naked...
There's no scenario that could follow that up where I won't make very bad decisions.
Waiting to make my move was the wrong choice, because Mariah has taken full advantage of the additional seconds. Her face is now burrowed against my chest, her warm breath coasting over my skin as she settles back into a deep sleep.
There hasn't been a woman in my bed in years. Not since Kara. I haven't been naked next to one in just as long. And after such a long dry spell, my body is reacting in a big way.
Even as tired as I am, I can't help but notice the way Mariah feels against me. The way her scent surrounds me. And I can't help but wonder what it would be like if she was always here. If this wasn't just an accidental situation where she likely sat down thinking she'd keep me company and conked out waiting for me to finish.
What would it be like if Mariah came to my bed on purpose? With intent. Would I send her away?
Or would I do exactly what I'm going to do now? Pull her closer. Keep her. Pretend I'm capable of being everything she deserves. That I'm not so terrified of what could happen to her that I frequently can't breathe.
I tell myself that’s why I don’t let her go. Why I don’t scoop Mariah up and carry her to the bed in her rooms.
Because I need to know she’s safe. That her baby’s safe.
And maybe I do. Because having them here with me makes it way too easy to close my eyes and slide into sleep.
At first I don't know what wakes me up. Whether it's a strange noise or my phone vibrating in the other room. Possibly the ping of an email being received on my laptop.
I pull in a deep breath as I try to come around. Attempt to get my brain functioning a little faster. It doesn't seem like I've been asleep for very long, but time has been pretty arbitrary for me for a while, so it's possible I just slept the clock around.
I hope not, because I need to get back to work. Figure out a way to safeguard the data my company has collected from whoever seems intent on accessing it.
But when I shift, planning to get up, all thoughts of work and code and firewalls fly right out of my mind.
Because Mariah is in my bed. A fact I remember when she wiggles around, rubbing her body against mine in a way that has me stifling a groan.
I’m positive she has no clue how intimately her body is pressed against mine. And since I don't want her to feel weird around me if she discovers it, I carefully wrap a hand behind the knee of the leg she has slung over my hip. Slowly, I lift it up so I can shift her into a spot where her pussy won't be right against my dick.
A dick that is as hard now as it was last night when I fell asleep. I'm actually a little concerned it's been this way the entire time, because I’m pretty sure that would put me at risk for needing medical intervention. I speed up the process of what I'm doing a little, moving faster than I should in an attempt to escape the situation as quickly as possible. I need to protect Mariah from embarrassment, and myself from humiliation.
Thankfully, she seems to be a deep sleeper, and I’m able to get her positioned comfortably, replacing my body with a pillow as I slide free.
