Chapter 14
“Any update on a room?” Millie asked Mr. Dunston for the fifth time. She’d been lingering in the lobby reading “Pride and Prejudice” for two hours now. Anything to avoid the situation upstairs.
“I’m afraid not, Miss Aldrich. I’ve called everyone I can think of in walking distance, but none of them can take you. Most have guests already for the harvest festival. Anyone farther out is unreachable in this storm. I’m afraid you and Mr. Pritchard will have to make do.”
No. Anything but that. Didn’t Mr. Dunston realize what a perilous situation they were in?
Of course, he didn’t. How could he? Nobody knew about her and Ernie. Nobody knew about the kiss. Nobody knew how impossible it would be for them to stay away from each other cooped up in a tiny hotel room.
But she had to try. There was nothing else for it. She couldn’t very well sleep in the lobby.
It was after 9 p.m. when she made her way up the stairs to the room.
She knocked on the door before opening it, not wanting to catch Ernie in a state of undress.
He opened the door to let her in. His shirt was untucked, and his sleeves rolled up leaving his swallow tattoo visible, but thankfully he was fully clothed.
He inhaled sharply upon seeing her and then seemed to stop breathing as she entered the room. She was hardly any better, her heart pounding and her eyes wide as she eased past him, keeping as much distance as she could manage, but still far too close.
Unable to take her eyes off him, she sidled over to the unoccupied bed, sat down, then cleared her throat. “Mr. Dunston couldn’t find another room.”
Ernie closed the door, and the click of the latch boomed in her ear. They were alone, nothing to keep them apart but their tenuous self-control.
“I was afraid of that.”
“I’ll uh… I’ll…” Good Lord. Could she not even form sentences? “I’ll take this bed, and you stay over there. All right?”
“Yes,” he said in a husky voice. “I’ll just sit here and sketch,” he said, gesturing at his pad. A half-finished drawing of Jack Thompson eating pie lay face up on the bed.
“That’s very good,” she said, forgetting herself and coming closer to look. “I didn’t know you drew.”
“It’s been a hobby of mine since I was a child,” he said, running his hand up the back of his neck and turning slightly pink.
“It looks one of those illustrations by that fellow who does covers for the Saturday Evening Post.” It was so true to life and detailed she could hardly believe it.
“Norman Rockwell?” he asked, coming up beside her.
Too close.
“Could be. I don’t know the name.” She inched away.
“I’m very flattered,” he said, turning those big, caramel-colored eyes on her.
Oh, dear.
“I’m going to get ready for bed,” she said hurriedly, picking up her bag and bolting to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She was safe, at least for a few minutes. Maybe she could sleep in the bathtub?
Taking off her dress, she put on her light blue striped cotton pajamas. She’d always preferred men’s pajamas to nightgowns, and tonight she was grateful for her preference. There was nothing frilly or suggestive about them. They covered her completely.
She brushed her teeth and braided her hair as slowly as she could manage, dreading her return to the room and Ernie.
At last, she could delay no longer. Bracing herself, she stepped out of the bathroom and strode over to the bed, determined not to show weakness.
“Oh, my God, you’re in pajamas.” His newspaper came crashing down not-so-subtly hiding his crotch.
Her eyes went wide. “They’re perfectly modest,” she said, hurrying into bed and pulling the covers up to her chin.
“Of course,” he said, closing his eyes. “I just happen to…um…like women in pajamas.”
Now it was his turn to flee to the bathroom. Millie heaved a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him, and she heard running water. Grabbing her book, she turned to face the wall and snuggled down into the covers until only the top of her head was visible.
The wind howled outside, but the Brockerhoff was sealed tight. She was warm and cozy in her room. In their room. Good God, this was awkward.
Several minutes later, she heard Ernie return to his bed. “Shall we turn out the lights?”
“The sooner the better,” she answered without looking at him.
“Right.” He turned off the two lamps and then climbed in bed.
She lay in the dark, staring at the wall.
Minutes ticked by, and sleep wouldn’t come.
Her heart beat furiously. She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.
After a short while, her eyes popped open again.
This was going to be a very long night. Her throat felt dry. Thirsty. She was very thirsty.
Swinging her legs out from under the blankets, she stood up to get a glass of water.
Bang! She crashed right into Ernie.
“Watch where you’re going,” she said at the same time he said “Sorry!”
She was pressed up against him. His arms were holding her steady. Her own arms, much to her mortification, were wrapped around him for balance.
And for some reason, neither of them stepped back.
“I was just going for a drink of water,” she said, still not moving.
“So was I.”
“You’re too close,” she murmured.
“Far too close.” His lips brushed her ear.
“Step back.”
“I can’t. You’re holding onto me.”
Oh. Yes, she was. And for some reason, she wasn’t stopping. She tilted her head back, straining to see his face in the darkness. “Ernie?”
“Yes?”
He was so close, so very close.
She touched her lips to his, unable to stop herself.
His response was immediate and fervent. He traced her lips with his tongue and sucked her lower lip between his, leaving her knees weak and her heart fluttering.
Oh, no. She could not kiss Ernie. It was a terrible mistake that she couldn’t seem to stop making.
His tongue found her own, and she opened to him.
Let the snow fall outside. In here, she was on fire, consumed by sensation as heat pulsed through her. Where his fingers touched her back, she felt licks of flame. It was too much, and she wasn’t supposed to be doing this at all. How could something so wrong feel so exactly right?
Her traitorous body pressed against him, reveling in the delicious feel of his chest against her own, her hips moving against his.
The hard evidence of his desire grew between them, and she leaned into it, wanting to feel his heat in her most intimate places.
And that was when she realized she was in far more trouble than she initially thought.
Millie was no innocent and knew how much pleasure there was to be had from the joining of two bodies. Barney had been an enthusiastic lover, insatiable really. He was always backing her into dark corners and running his hand up her skirt. It was a miracle they’d never been caught.
And now, here she was with Ernie, and all she could think of was how it would feel if he touched her, tasted her, took her. She wanted him with every fiber of her being. All of him. Not just lips and tongue. That wasn’t nearly enough to sate her.
“I want you,” groaned a husky voice she hardly recognized as her own. Did she really say that out loud?
Ernie froze, still holding her tight against him, breath ragged and shallow. “I want you too, but there are so many reasons we should stop.”
“There are. To start with, you’re still a no-good cad,” she said, unable to relinquish him. If anything, she was pulling him tighter against her.
“A no-good cad you can’t resist.” He nuzzled her neck, and she arched into him to give him fuller access. Her heart pounded in her chest as she moved against him, desperate for some friction.
“Then there’s the fact that we’d both be fired if anyone at work ever found out,” she said, touching him greedily, unable to stop.
He made an appreciative grumbling noise as her hands continued to explore. “Yes, there’s that,” he said in a strained voice. He nibbled on her ear, and she almost lost her mind. “And yet, we don’t seem to be stopping.”
“No one knows we’re stuck together here except Mr. Dunston at the front desk, and no one at all would know what happened between us tonight if we didn’t tell them.
” Why was she arguing in favor of this? She was supposed to be putting a stop to it.
The risks were far too great. But instead, she was grasping his firm and perfectly-shaped buttocks and enjoying his sharp intake of breath.
“Maybe we should get this out of our systems,” she heard herself saying. What? No, that was a terrible idea. “Everything seems to have conspired to force us together. Maybe we should give in for tonight so that we can be rid of this mad attraction and move on with our lives.”
He was silent for a long moment, but his hands continued to caress her sides, his thumbs grazing her breasts.
“Maybe you’re right. One night and then we’re through.
” He nodded slowly against her hair in the dark and then reached up to cup her cheek as he pulled her into another bone-melting kiss.
When he had reduced her to nothing more than a pulsing puddle of sensation, he asked, “Millie, may I turn on the light? I want to see you.”
It felt so safe in the dark, as if none of this was really happening. Light would make it so much more real. But it was real. She might as well admit it to herself. “You can turn on the light.”
Hanging on to her tightly with one arm, he reached around her with the other and switched on the lamp. There he was with that unruly blond hair and golden-brown eyes, looking at her from beneath his long, thick lashes, eyes darkened with desire.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured as he pulled the tie from her braid and began to loosen it. Soon, her blonde hair sprung free and cascaded over her shoulders. “There. Perfection.” He buried his face in it, breathing deeply. “I am a very lucky man. At least for tonight.”
He pulled her into a kiss, and she surrendered.
She wanted this more than she could remember wanting anything in her life.
Her fingers found his shirt buttons, and she began to undo them one by one until his shirt hung loose and he shrugged out of it.
Beneath, he was wearing a thick, wool union suit, understandable, given the weather, but frustrating nonetheless.
She wanted to touch bare skin, trace the contours of his chest with her fingers.
She found the buttons of his undergarment and made quick work of them, revealing his chest at last.
At the sight of him, she let out a tiny moan.
She knew he was a shapely man from the way he filled his clothes, but this view of him was downright decadent.
He was a god among men, much more muscular than Barney had been.
His chest was lightly sprinkled with coarse blond hair, and she couldn’t wait to touch him.
She ran her hands over every angle and plane, memorizing the feel of him, enjoying the heat he radiated on this cold, wintry night.
And for tonight, he was all hers. In the morning, they would go their separate ways as if this never happened.
But tonight was for indulgence. No one would ever be the wiser.
His fingers began to work the buttons of her pajama top.
One. And then another. Each button seemed to undo a little bit more of her control.
When he reached the last one, he took the parted cloth in hand, holding it together then slowly pulling it apart to reveal her inch by inch, her breathing hitching as the fabric brushed the tips of her taut nipples.
At last, she was fully open to him, and he gently slid the top off her arms as he groaned, “Oh, Millie.”
Stepping back, he took a moment to rake her with his gaze.
She missed the warmth of his touch but felt his eyes on her like a caress.
Never had a man looked so worshipful in her presence.
He threw her pajama top to the floor and rushed in, placing a thousand kisses on her chest until he reached her nipple and sucked it into his mouth.
Arching back, she was supported by his strong arm as he drove her mad.
His knee pushed between her legs, and his beautifully muscled thigh rubbed where she needed him most. Her silk underwear was already damp.
Riding his thigh, she could see colors starting to swirl at the edges of her vision.
Much more of this treatment, and she was going to soak herself.
“Yes, let go, Millie.”
A shudder ran through her, and a spasm of bliss turned the world to rainbows. Oh. Dear. God.
And they were still fully clothed from the waist down. What would it be like when he finally touched her?