16. No Erections and No Cuddling
Ron
"No hugging. No accidentally tangled legs. And absolutely no accidental grinding with awkward middle-of-the-night erections."
I lean against the bathroom doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest. I pretend to weigh her non-negotiable terms with the utmost seriousness, only to let a lazy, brazen smirk spread across my lips.
"Hmm..." I murmur, dropping my voice, "I actually think you might enjoy that last clause. Truth be told, you might even find yourself begging for more."
Selene twists her face into a grimace so theatrical and horrified that I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from bursting out laughing.
At the end of a long, exhausting, highly irrational forty-minute argument, we'd "decided" that sharing the massive king-size mattress was the most logical choice.
Or rather, Selene forced me to agree to share the bed with her, threatening to sleep on the floor herself rather than let me spend the night crammed and curled up on the window seat.
Just as I suspected... she's got a total softie hidden deep down inside.
"And no cuddling if you happen to have a nightmare," she adds, aggressively fluffing her pillows.
Yeah. Definitely a softie.
Not that I didn't want to share a bed with her, obviously.
I'd be out of my fucking mind not to. But I suggested the window seat for one very simple reason: I didn't want to make her uncomfortable.
And, above all, I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit that I desperately wanted to avoid testing my already fragile self-control.
"Hey, I can be a perfect gentleman," I declare.
And yet, the only thing I can think about right this second, as I devour her with my eyes, is how fucking sexy she looks in that set.
Silk. Pure, slippery black silk.
A camisole with paper-thin straps clinging to her chest, and a pair of shorts so short they should be illegal. All I can think about, as the dim glow of the bedside lamp caresses her skin, is just how much bare skin is on display.
The line of her shoulders, the soft curve of her pale thighs sinking into the mattress. Her, lying in my bed. That cascade of raven hair, highlighted by those two white streaks, spilling messily across my pillow.
The thousand, incredibly dirty ways I could rip that flimsy, pointless little outfit right off her.
Yeah, well... my thoughts aren't exactly gentlemanly right now.
I gather my courage, take a deep breath, and, completely ignoring the red alert blaring in my head, I slide under the covers, claiming my half of the mattress. The bed creaks under my weight. Her orchid scent invades my senses.
Nope. I am not a gentleman. I am a bastard of the highest order. I can feel the soft fabric of my sweatpants pulling dangerously tight. I am already rock hard, and I just laid down next to her. This will be the longest night of the century.
I'm about to roll onto my side, trying to find a position that avoids any physical contact, when a dull thud vibrates against the wall right behind the headboard.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Now what?" Selene huffs, lifting her head off the pillow.
"Oh, yeah... Dustin, harder!"
A high-pitched moan, followed by a deep groan.
I bite my lip, but I can’t help it. A low, raspy chuckle escapes my throat, vibrating in my chest. "I think that’s... pretty obvious," I reply, turning to look at her.
Selene’s mouth drops open in a perfect “O” of pure horror. She lets out a strangled sound, a mix of a grunt and a groan of pure despair, grabs the edge of the duvet, and yanks it right over her head, burying herself under the covers.
"Oh, no..." her muffled voice says from under the fabric. "Tell me this isn’t happening. I cannot believe we share a wall with them!"
I smile in the dark, shaking my head. It’s already funny, but her reaction makes it ten times worse.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The wall shakes again. Our neighbors’ bed creaks.