Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Henry
I flush hot, awkward, and uncomfortable. “I don’t think it’s because you slept well. I was abrupt this morning. That set both of our days off on the wrong foot. Had I known how badly you’ve been sleeping, I’d have been, I dunno. Less of a dickhead.”
That makes her laugh. “You’re never that.”
“It’s okay to tell me I was too curt, too rough with your sweet girl feelings.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling now. “All right.”
“Maybe we need to get you a body pillow to snuggle with at night, so I. . .” I trail off as her eyes go wide.
“You, what?” She frowns. The way her eyebrows pull together and her lips purse when she’s thinking. . . fucking beautiful. “Henry?”
Fuck. Me.
“Last night. . .” She inhales with a little hitch in her breath before she licks her lips. “Henry, did you sleep in the big bed with me last night? Did I? Did you. . .?”
“It’s not—You wouldn’t let go of me when I moved you. I didn’t—”
“I liked it,” she whispers. Her eyes are big as saucers. “I remember now. Is that why you were short with me this morning?”
This time, my curse is out loud. “Fuck. Yeah, maybe. I thought I’d crossed a line. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
She shakes her head vigorously. “You would never. Is that why I slept so well?”
I cannot be the answer to her restless nights. Cannot. Will not.
And she doesn’t care. She presses on. “Would you sleep with me again tonight?”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
I open my mouth to tell her it’s not fucking appropriate. That I’m an old man, and she’s too innocent for the filthy thoughts I have about her. Then I realize I didn’t have any of those last night.
Not one. I didn’t get a fucking hard-on as I held her. I just worried about her and wanted her to be safe.
If she needs me, I can do whatever she wants. “No good reason,” I say gruffly. “Just trying to be a good guy.”
“You are the best.” She stretches. “I’ll put my PJs on. And I know you might not be tired yet, but if you just lie down with me, I’ll fall asleep fast, and then you can get back up. Is that okay?”
How can I say no? “Yeah. That’s fine.”
But I won’t get back up. I know it in my bones. I’ve missed holding her all day, and if she knows I might be there all night, I’m going to fucking take it.
This is fine, I tell myself as she crawls into bed. Unlike last night, where she was exhausted and unconscious, this time, she’s nervous and unsure of how to hold on to me.
She launches herself against me as I’m still settling in, then laughs as I push her back, just a little, until I’m lying down. Then she pounces again.
And fuck if that eager uncertainty doesn’t wake a part of me that stayed dormant last night.
My cock thickens as she wriggles against me, her top leg creeping onto mine. A heavy need pulses deep inside me as I think about the innocent need to wrap herself around another person.
Before her leg slides too high and discovers my growing erection under the blanket, I shift my hand across my body, stopping her thigh just in time.
Of course, now I’m fucking holding her bare leg.
Danger is an understatement.
She makes a happy, contented sound and then yawns. It’s a big, tired gasp for air, and her eyes fluttering shut, then stay closed when she settles again.
My hand covers most of her thigh, and her flesh is cool and soft and plump at the top where my thumb rests. I need to release her, move my hand to somewhere, anywhere else.
Stop touching her bare fucking skin. But I can’t. She threw herself against me. The feelings of vague, shadowy want constantly looming in my mind now threaten to coalesce into clear images that—if imprinted—could ruin me forever. Even worse, they would ruin Summer.
Let go of her. But I can’t.
I tell myself it’s because she might nudge my cock. I’m not holding her against me; I’m holding her back from being too close.
It’s both a truth and a lie at the same time.
And then my thumb strokes back and forth. I want to pretend it’s not of my own volition, but I do that. I make the fucking choice to touch more of her, even as my heart pounds in my chest.
She won’t want you mauling her. But that shadowy want is stronger now, more confident.
When this is over, and she moves into her dorm, I’ll look back and recognize that mistakes were made. But right now? I can’t let myself think about this as wrong, not when she clings to me as if her life depends on it.
So I hold my breath and wait for her to fall asleep.