Chapter Thirty-Seven Alex
The sunlight streaming through the room is too damn bright.
I roll over and cover my head with the pillow, but there’s something weird about it—the texture is wrong, and the smell is too neutral.
Now that I’m paying attention, I feel my clothes twisted awkwardly around my body, the heavy weight of an unfamiliar blanket.
I slowly raise my head, only one eye peeled open for self-preservation against the sun, and peer around the room. How did I end up in a hotel?
Last night, I went out for drinks with Nick.
We talked about Euan and the marriage and then …
did Nick say Euan was coming? But that can’t be right.
He lives hundreds of miles away. Even if he wants to visit me—which I’m still not sure he does—he can’t just drop everything and show up in half an hour.
Except … another memory trickles in. Strong arms around me. A familiar scent filling my lungs. A soft, sweet voice whispering gently, “Did you want me to stay?”
Was that some drunken dream? Or did he really come back? I throw the pillow off my head and look around the hotel room again. It’s empty, no signs of another person. The bathroom door is closed but there are no sounds coming from inside. “Euan?” I call, my voice rough from sleep and alcohol.
No response.
I stumble out of bed and check the bathroom anyway, pushing the door open. Empty.
He’s here, right? I didn’t imagine him?
Out of more desperation than hope, I decide to ask the front desk if they’ve seen him. Too impatient to even put shoes on, I throw the hotel room door open—
And collide with a solid, warm body.
Euan grunts but remains steady on his feet. The drink carrier he’s holding isn’t as lucky, dumping iced coffee over both of us. The paper bag he’s holding in the other hand is far enough away to avoid the splash.
I blink up dazedly at Euan, wondering if maybe this is the drunken dream. Though, if I’m dreaming, why would I be cold and sticky? “You’re here—” the last syllable turns into a sharp yelp as an ice cube slips all the way down my spine.
“Good morning to you, too,” Euan replies, lips quirked in amusement. “Why don’t we step inside before you start flailing?”
“I’m not flailing,” I mutter, though that’s only because I’m tightly clutching his shirt instead. It takes a few seconds to untwist my fingers from the fabric and step away from him.
Euan enters the room and I follow him like a lost puppy afraid his favorite human will disappear if I lose sight of him. “You’re here,” I repeat, with less vibrato this time.
“Sorry you had to wake up alone,” he says as he sets both the drink carrier and the paper bag on the counter. “I thought you’d need something to eat once you woke up. I didn’t realize you’d have enough energy to leap out of bed and attack me.”
A slight flush heats my cheeks. “I was … kind of worried I’d dreamed you,” I admit. “I didn’t know you were coming. You didn’t reply to my text.”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry, that was my dad’s bright idea to surprise you.”
A grin spreads across my face as I realize that not only was he not ignoring me, but he jumped on a plane the next day just to come see me. “How long are you here for?” Please say forever.
“I have to leave on Monday.”
Two days. I only have two days with him. It’s not nearly enough, but I’ll take whatever he gives me. Still, I can’t help but ask, “Why such a short trip?”
He stares back at me steadily. “I didn’t know if you really wanted to see me. After the thing with Nick … I didn’t want to be stuck here for another week if you didn’t feel the same way.”
My heart is pounding so loud it almost drowns him out. “And what way is that?”
He sighs and sits down in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “After firing the attorneys, I got this stupid thought in my head: what if we just stayed married?”
My breath catches at the question.
Euan doesn’t look at me as he speaks, his eyes locked on his own clasped hands. “Then we got the phone call from the County Clerk. You were so happy, while I felt like something had been ripped away from me.”
“You wanted to be married to me for real?”
He chuckles, though the sound is bitter, self-deprecating.
“I know, even I don’t tend to rush relationships that much.
But everything about that week with you was …
It was practically my married-life fantasy.
It’s the little moments of intimacy and sharing things together.
The trust you showed while we explored your kinks.
And I know the sex was supposed to be casual and you only invited me to stay at your apartment out of a sense of obligation—”
“I loved living with you.”
That finally gets him to look up at me, dark brows furrowed.
“Yes, I invited you to stay because I didn’t want you to waste money on a hotel all week,” I begin, speaking slowly as I try to find the words to explain.
“But I enjoyed having you in my space. Whether it was spending the whole day with you or coming home and knowing you’d be there.
The only thing I didn’t like was when we slept in separate beds.
Hell, I might have tied you to the bed if I could have.
” An image flashes through my head of Euan’s arms locked above his head, muscles stark from tension.
Tempting, but not as fun as when I’m in his place.
“Actually, I still think I’d prefer to be the one tied up. ”
Euan’s eyes darken at the suggestion. He stands up and approaches slowly, like he’s afraid I’ll bolt if he makes any sudden movements. “What do you want from this relationship? I need you to say it clearly.”
I take a deep breath and lock eyes with him. “I’m happy we aren’t married.”
His expression shifts slightly, jaw tightening as he braces himself for disappointment.
“Because I want to date you normally. I like you, Euan, but I really want to get to know you without the confusing and messy complications of an accidental marriage and an annulment and all that bullshit—”
His mouth seals over mine, finally cutting off my rambling. The kiss is sweeter than usual, and I hum in delight as I deepen it, licking up all that sweetness. But when I lean in closer, my coffee-soaked shirt sticks uncomfortably to my skin.
Euan kisses a trail from my cheek down to my neck. “I think we both need a shower.” Then he bites down gently and sucks.
“You’re going to leave a hickey,” I complain, even as I tilt my head to give him better access.
He withdraws his teeth and licks up the traces of iced coffee from my throat. “Sorry, you’re just so delicious.”
“What are you going to do, give me a tongue bath?”
He chuckles and traces a line with his tongue down to my collar bone. “There’s an idea.”
The image of him licking every inch of me clean makes my skin feel hypersensitive, tingling at even the slightest touch. “O-okay.”
Euan’s smile against my skin is soft and ticklish—then he bites down again.
My half-yelp, half-moan just encourages him.
Slowly, he strips layers of my clothing away like he’s peeling the wrapper off a candy.
Each time he reveals an untouched stretch of skin, he licks it clean right before taking a bite.
He spends an extra long time on each nipple, teasing and sucking them both into peaks that continue to ache even after he’s moved on.
He drops to his knees, tongue laving over my stomach, swirling around my belly button. One of my hands is clutching his shoulder, the other is tangled in his soft hair. I don’t try to guide his head though—I doubt I could move him even if I had enough thoughts left to know where I want him to go.
Too focused on his mouth, I don’t even notice what his hands are doing until my slacks fall to the ground, exposing my briefs that are soaked for a very different reason. Euan slides them out of his way and begins lapping up the precum dripping down my cock.
“Th-there’s no coffee there,” I pant, watching him with half-lidded eyes.
“You’re still the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he says right before closing his lips around the tip.
He gives my cock the same ravenous attention as the rest of me.
Long, leisurely licks. Sucking with just the right amount of pressure.
Taking the whole length of me, until his beard brushes my pubic hair.
At some point, my knees stop holding me up anymore. I feel strong arms around me, then the world tips over as my back lands across the bed. Everything is a hazy mix of sensations: wet, hot, slick, friction.
Cool air chilling my wet cock finally snaps me out of the daze.
Frowning, I push myself up on my elbows.
But the second I see Euan, the frown disappears.
He’s stripping off his own stained clothes.
Quick and efficient at first, but when he notices me staring, he slows down.
Takes his time unbuttoning his jeans. Sliding them down his hips and thighs.
He leaves his boxers in place for now, only giving me a hint of his erection as it tents the plaid.
“Turn over,” he orders.
I pout at him. “I’m not done looking.”
“And I’m not done eating.”
I inhale sharply at the implication and immediately roll onto my stomach.
Then Euan’s hands are on my hips, guiding my ass to the edge of the bed.
He caresses his hands slowly over me, squeezing my cheeks, massaging them, and then spreading me open.
Hot breath brushes my hole and it twitches in response.
Then his tongue is on me—in me—devouring me like a starved man presented with his favorite treat.
Fingers join his tongue, and I’m lost. The sounds spilling from my mouth are barely human. If there’s any words in there, I forget them the second they’re spoken.
Suddenly, it all disappears, leaving me empty and aching. I whine in protest and gather enough strength to glare over my shoulder at Euan. Just in time to watch him roll a condom down his length.