I glance down.“I think this should do it.”
The floor-length, pale-yellow quilted zip-up night coat with flowers embroidered around the neckline doesn’t exactly screamseduce me.My grandmother bought it for me at a little boutique in Lake Geneva one Christmas and laughed when she gifted it to me.I remember her saying,“For the cold nights, darling, wherever you end up.”
I haven’t worn it until this moment, but as I was packing my bag, I figured if I went to bed wearing this, there would be less of a chance I’d end up sleeping with Easton.
Now, seeing the way he’s looking at me, I know it wouldn’t matter what I wore.The tension between us isn’t going anywhere.
“First of all, I can restrain myself.Second of all, you could wear a suit of armor and my dick will still salute you.”
I shrug.“I figured it was my best shot.”
He’s still looking at me in that way he does that I can never fully decode, and tonight I’m too tired to try to figure out where his mind is.
The entire room is set up for romance.The champagne his parents ordered is still sitting in its bucket, the city lights reflecting through the window and the enormous bed between us.
I move toward my suitcase to grab my charger, ignoring that Easton hasn’t taken his eyes off me.He goes to his suitcase to get his own.
I turn to walk back, but the hem catches under my foot.It happens so fast—one second, I’m upright, and the next I’m pitching forward with nothing to grab.Then his hands are on me, and I’m not falling anymore.I’m in his arms.
My hands are on his chest, fingers curling into the soft cotton of his T-shirt.His hands grip my arms, steadying me, and we’re close.So close.
My eyes slowly lift, and he’s already looking at me.
Say something funny.Thank him.Step away.You’re good at running.
But I don’t have it in me.The last of my fight was putting on this ridiculous old lady night coat.
I lift on my tiptoes, never stripping my gaze off Easton’s, and kiss him.It’s soft at first, tentative, a question lingering.His hands tighten on my arms, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t push me away or pull me closer, leaving me as the decision-maker.
I’m done.Done pretending this is nothing.
I press closer, and his hands slide from my arms to my waist, and the kiss deepens, dissolving the question between us.
He pulls back a fraction of space, just enough to look at me.
I open my eyes.
His hand slowly rises and lands on the zipper at my throat.He only holds it between his fingers and thumb, drawing in a deep breath.
I nod.
He lowers it slowly, all the way down until my night coat parts.
“Fuck, Hadley,” he says, his eyes filled with desire I’ve missed.He pushes the coat off my shoulders, and it falls to the floor.
I stand in front of him in a thin cami and shorts, and he looks at me the way he looked at me in the bookstore—as though I’m his.
“You’re so stunning,” he says quietly.
“I tried,” I say.“I really tried.”
“Me too.”Our gazes hold.“I guess we’re just too hot for one another.”
I laugh, but he swallows it down by kissing me again.
This time there’s nothing tentative about his lips.His hands find my hips, and he walks me backward until my knees hit the bed and we go down together, his weight settling over me in a way that is so familiar and so completely new at the same time.
“You have no idea how hard I’ve fought.”His mouth moves to my jaw, my neck, the place below my ear.He remembers all my favorite spots.Of course he does.He’s the one man with a roadmap to my body.“You still like this?”
