“Since our night together?” I offer, which only makes the tension between us thicker.
She doesn't respond, instead cutting into a pancake and popping a bite into her mouth. She doesn't have to say anything, because we both know the answer. We said no consequence, no nothing. Things were supposed to go back to normal—which is us hating each other—but I haven't gone a single day without reliving the way she shattered beneath me. The way her pussy clamped around my cock, milking me dry.
I cross my arms over my chest and let her eat, my mind wandering. Thinking back to the way I had her bent over the last time I was in this room.
Sure, I could fuck her the exact same way right now to take her mind off things, but that isn't what she needs. She needs comfort and reassurance. Or whatever that doctor online said.
When she's finished eating, she shoves her tray away. I check my phone—no messages from Sebastian. That’s a good sign.
“Do you want to lay down? We can watch a movie,” I offer, knowing there's not much else to do in her hotel room. She's definitely not dressed to go out, and it’s still early as fuck.
With a sly smirk, she stands and makes her way across the room. “If you wanted to get me into bed, you could have just said that. No need for theatrics.”
I chuckle. It’s not much, but there’s a hint of the sass I know so well. An ember of the fire I crave.
At the thought of her in bed, my cock twitches, and I silently scold myself.
Comfort and reassurance.
Comfort and reassurance.
Comfort and…
“Are you sure we can stay a little longer?” she asks, changing the subject. She’s obviously itching to get back to the tour bus.
“Positive.” I kick off my shoes and join her by the bed, grabbing the remote off the bedside table. “We can watch TV or you can go back to sleep. We can even count the dots on the ceiling, but if I'm honest, I’d rather you run me through with a serrated knife.”
She eyes me warily before grabbing the remote out of my hand and crawling into bed.
“You know, I think I prefer you being an asshole,” she says, settling under the comforter and turning on the TV.
“Oh?” I climb in next to her, and I don't miss the hitch in her breath. “So the nice guy thing doesn't do it for you?”
“I didn't say that.” Her reply is short. “Just not when you do it.”
I laugh and fold my hands behind my head. “Yet you're complaining that I ignored you all week. Explain to me how that works.”
The channels stop flipping, and I glance over to find Joseline's eyes boring a hole into my head. Her jaw works like she's trying to figure out what to say, and I know I'm walking a thin line. As fun as it is to mess with her, I'm supposed to be helping.
In a swift motion, I roll over and land with my face hovering just above hers, my body pressed up againsther side. Her stuttered breath rolls over my skin, and I smirk.
“You can admit you enjoy my attention, sweetheart.” I trail my thumb along her jaw, brushing it over her full bottom lip.
“I don't want to enjoy it,” she grits out softly.
“But you do?”
Her silence is answer enough.
“We don't have to talk about it,” I assure her. “Not yet. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”
“But you said?—”
“I know what I said, and I meant it. At least, I tried to.” I sigh. “But staying away from you this week has been the hardest thing I've done in a long time.”
She laughs dryly. “You sure make it look easy.”
“It wasn't.” My jaw hardens as I think back to every time I had to be near her and the restraint it took to stay away. Even though it pained me, I did it. For her. “I did my damndest to keep my distance. I knew that if I gave myself an inch, I wouldn't be able to stop myself.”
