Like it was back at the dunes, Conor is a grump, making half-hearted protests about trying things with me, but I always catch him smiling when he thinks I’m not looking. The views are just as stunning, but this time, I find myself watching Conor more. It’s not until we’re done that I realize that I’ve only taken a single picture— and it’s of Conor’s profile as he stares at the sunset.
This is not good.
Something has shifted between us. I felt it earlier, but I feel it even more deeply now. When we’re done with the activities of the day, I find that I can’t shake it off. It’s pathetic to fall inlove with the first man to kiss you, but it feels like that’s what’s happening.
And perhaps those feelings are why I feel comfortable enough to invite Conor to sleep in my bed with me. This morning, I noticed how tired he looked after spending all night in the passenger seat, stretching his neck and back like they were sore.
“Are you sure?” he asks when I make the suggestion, clearly confused. I consider taking back my invite, but it’s not fair that he has to travel with me with sore muscles when we can squeeze together in my bed. It shouldn’t matter, right? We’re just getting some sleep.
“We’ll fit…I think.” My cheeks burn with heat, so I look away. “I just need to get changed and then you can…um, come in.”
“Alright,” Conor says, turning around to give me privacy. I quickly change into my sleeping shorts and comfortable T-shirt before sliding under the covers. My heart is racing fast as I squeeze into the corner, leaving more space for the man who’s built like a linebacker.
“You can come in now.”
There is some shuffling as he too changes out of his clothes. When the bed dips beside me, I nervously bite my lower lip, heart racing fast as he slides under the covers.
Christ, he’s so big. There is no freaking way we’re going to fit in here unless…
Oh!
I bite back a whimper when an arm circles my waist, and I’m pulled flush against a solid body, a hand settling over my stomach. I shiver when I feel his warm breath against my neck,so soft and heated, making my skin tingle. Neither of us says a word, and when the hand on my stomach starts drawing circles, I push down the urge to cry out with need. I’m sensitive…and hot. On my neck, my stomach, and the spot between my legs. God, my nipples have pebbled against my T-shirt, and I am half terrified his hand will move up a little and feel just how hard they are. How...achy.
“Conor,” I whisper into the dark, wiggling nervously, but his arm bands tighter around me. Pressed hard against me, I feel his erection brush against my ass, and the wiggling only works to rub against his cock.
“Just relax,” he rasps into my nape, his mouth brushing softly against my skin and fanning the heat in my belly. “I’m not going to do anything to you,a rún.”
And isn’t that the problem?
I want him to touch me. He is so warm, and he makes me feel so safe in his embrace in ways nothing ever has. I shouldn’t like his touch as much as I do, but as his hand moves over my stomach, his lips gentle on my skin, I feel my body drawn into a relaxed state of arousal. It feels good—he feels so good.I close my eyes, slowly drifting off to his voice whispering soothingly against my skin.
“Sweet dreams, Arianna.”
Chapter Four
Conor
Something is up with Arianna.
And my intuition tells me it has to do with more than what happened last night. Fuck, just thinking about it has my cock hardening again. I should have known better than to touch her, a woman so young and innocent. Not to mention that she’s a freaking client and therefore forbidden. No, I should have kept my hands and lips to myself, but it felt right to just touch her…to hold her close.
However wrong it was for me to cross those lines, I can tell that’s not what’s bothering her. She’s been jittery all morning and more so in crowded areas. I noticed it first when we stopped to get coffee. She’d peek out the window and look around. Not in the way she does when she’s taking in a potential filming location, but in a manner that suggested she was looking for something…or someone.
She seemed more distracted, and I had to remind her to take pictures of the Bean and film the Navy Pier as we explored Chicago. Each person she bumped into seemed to send her into a wave of anxiety. Any questions I raised about her behavior were simply shrugged off as her being nervous about visiting a new city. I’m not sure I believe her.
And now, I’m beginning to question if the “negative comment” response I got yesterday was just an excuse to throw me off the truth.
Still, I decide to push down the matter as we try a couple of restaurants for Chicago staples. She tries everythingfrom Portillo’s hot dogs and Pizzeria Uno to Garret’s Chicago mix popcorn. The jolly smile she wears for her viewers looks a tad strained as she records every meal and gives a review. By the time the evening rolls around, we’re both clearly tired. The thought of driving to a campsite sounds like a nightmare after all that walking. I nearly groan in relief when Arianna announces we’re staying at a hotel she booked in advance—parking the van in the hotel’s garage overnight. That had been her plan all along.
There is some awkwardness as we walk through the lobby—until Arianna stops midway and turns toward me, nervously glancing at me.
“Okay, I have a confession to make,” she says, her nervous eyes locking with mine for the first time all day, but it lasts for only three seconds before she looks away. “So I booked a single room with a single bed for this trip because I thought I’d be traveling alone, and even when Amy joined in, I figured we’d just share my bed, but…” She sucks in a deep breath before releasing it slowly through her mouth. “I called them this morning, but they couldn’t change my reservations. They said they were booked solid.”
Aaah.
“That’s what happens when you travel during peak tourist season.”
“Right, I know. I didn’t intend to plan the trip around this season, but I’ve been putting this trip off for so long that I just…needed to finally do it...” Her voice trails off. and her eyes widen with surprise when she realizes she’s shared more than she meant to. “My point is, I’m still going to ask in case someone canceled a reservation, but I’m not too hopeful.”
