19. Blake
19
BLAKE
K at’s eyes close as soon as we start driving, and I can’t stop looking over at her.
She’s different this way. Softer, more vulnerable. Completely different from the hard exterior she cultivates at work.
I drive her Honda Accord back to my house. My truck is in the garage since the guys were at my place when Addie called Cam, and he gave me a ride. Kat may freak out at waking up at my place, but at least she can just get in her car and drive back home once she’s sobered up.
“Kat,” I say, tapping her leg.
No response.
She’s either really tired or really drank too much, or a combination of the two. Addie said that Kat had three glasses of wine, and I’ve never seen Kat have more than one, so my money’s on a drunk Kat.
I try again, this time getting a groan from her, but she’s no closer to waking up.
“All right, babe,” I say, unbuckling her seat belt. “Time for bed.”
It’s 7 p.m., too early for me to go to bed, but it’s late enough that I think she’s out for the night. I climb out of the driver’s side and round the car to her door, where I scoop her into my arms.
I snag her purse with one hand, but I leave the dildo on the floor, despite the fact that I’m dying to see it. Apparently, Kat told them it was the same size as me. I’d love to know how she pictures me after that one night.
It better be damn big.
As we walk through the house, Kat settles her head against my neck. The scent of her shampoo tickles my nose, something floral and coconut, and fuck , this is killing me.
I haven’t wanted more than a one-night stand with any woman in years, so my self-imposed ban on relationships hasn’t been a problem. But now my need to protect myself and the people around me from hurt is directly clashing with my desire for more .
I want more of everything Kat has to offer.
Her gorgeous smile.
Her quick wit.
Her dirty mind and luscious body.
The way she gets me in a way that so few people do.
I carry her into the guest room and place her gently on the bed. Kat immediately rolls to one side, pressing her face into the pillow. I slip her shoes off and set them next to her on the floor.
Now what? She’s wearing jeans. It’s not the most comfortable sleepwear, but she may murder me if I undress her while she’s asleep.
I push a hand through my hair. There’s no right option here.
I stare at her sleeping form for a few minutes, trying to decide, and all it does is make me hard.
Fuck.
I grit my teeth and reach over her to carefully unbutton her jeans, then I peel them down her long legs. She rolls to her stomach as I pull a blanket up and over her, but not before I get a good view of her ass, her thong nestled between the two round globes.
My cock strains painfully against my jeans. This woman has no idea what she does to me.
I manage to fold her jeans neatly and set a pair of shorts and a soft T-shirt on the bedside table, along with a bottled water, before I lose all control.
Once I make sure Kat is settled, I move to my bedroom, where I strip out of my clothes and head straight for the shower. There’s a bead of precum already forming at the tip of my cock.
I step into the shower and brace my hand against the tile as the hot water streams over me. My dick is so hard it’s painful. I grip the base and squeeze. Why can’t I let this arrangement with Kat be what it is?
This is a business deal. An agreement.
Not a goddamn relationship or even friends with benefits.
But fuck if I can’t get her out of my mind.
I reach for the body wash, squeeze some into my hand, and use the liquid to coat my fist as it glides along my length.
The pressure builds as she consumes my consciousness. I grit my teeth, moving faster as need coils inside me. My head falls back as my chest tightens and my breaths get faster.
Her sass. Her confidence. Fuck, there’s nothing about this woman that doesn’t turn me on.
And when the edges of my vision blacken, when my legs shake as I come, it’s her face I’m picturing.
The humidity hits me square in the face as soon as we step off the plane in Nassau. Cam promised me that November is the perfect time to visit the Bahamas.
“Not too hot and not too humid,” he said. “It’ll be gorgeous.”
I call bullshit.
It’s got to be at least eighty degrees, and the air is so thick with humidity that I could cut it with a knife.
It doesn’t help that I’m wearing jeans and a button-down Oxford shirt. I was comfortable in Philadelphia and on the plane, but now it’s a different story.
Kat, for her part, looks effortlessly beautiful and breezy. She wore a dress with a sweater on the plane, and now that we’ve stepped outside, the sweater has been tucked into her tote bag, leaving her in just a sundress. The yellow of the fabric looks perfect against her tan skin. It’s almost glowing.
Her face is glowing, too, a smile stretched from ear to ear. It doesn’t fade as we pick up our luggage, as we slide into a taxi, or even as the receptionist at the hotel drops a bomb on me.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” I say, just in case I didn’t hear her correctly .
“We have you and Miss Milas in room 402. Would you like any help with your bags?” The woman behind the counter—Jenny, her name tag says—smiles helpfully.
I’m about to put Jenny in her place, point out that we should obviously have two rooms and that someone messed up the reservation. But even as I open my mouth, a finger taps my shoulder.
“Thank you. Room 402 sounds great. We can handle the bags.” Kat steps up to the counter from behind me, sliding closer to me and then, when I don’t expect it at all, elbowing me in the ribs.
“Ow!” I protest, wondering what I did.
Kat glares daggers at me.
“Here are your keys,” Jenny says, clearly ready to be done with us.
“Thank you,” Kat says.
She grabs my arm and hauls me toward the elevator, luggage in tow.
As the elevator door slides closed, she finally lets me go.
“What was that about?” I ask.
Kat rolls her eyes. “You doofus. We’re here as a couple. Of course Cam and Addie only booked us one room. They think we’re a real couple. Plus, how much do you want to bet there’s only one bed? How did you not think this through?”
Uh, good question. I didn’t, obviously. When I first decided to bring Kat to this wedding, it was mostly an attempt to avoid being set up with Addie’s friend. And then Kat and I got along well, so I figured it would be fun to hang out with her.
And despite my PhD-anointed brain, I didn’t put any thought into where two people who are supposedly dating might spend the night while on vacation.
I’m not all that surprised that she thought it through, actually. She’s smarter than I am, in plenty of ways. What is surprising is that she anticipated the one-bed situation and still agreed to come along.
The elevator opens on our floor, and Kat strides toward room 402.
“You coming?” she says, holding the door open.
I step into the room, and once again, I momentarily forget our situation. This place is beautiful. It’s not so much a hotel room as a suite, with white walls and curtains accented with a beige the color of sand. Framed artwork of flowers and the ocean provide pops of color.
I slip off my shoes just inside the door and let my toes curl into the thick white carpet. Keeping this place clean has to be a colossal task, but it’s absolutely breathtaking.
I push back the gauzy curtains, revealing a view of the beach that’s so freaking gorgeous that I suck in a breath. “Kat. Come here.”
“Huh?” she calls from deep inside the suite.
I turn around to see her poke her head out from the bedroom, which is its own separate room from the sitting room that we entered. I cross my fingers that when I finally get around to checking it out, there will be two beds. Because there’s no way I’ll be able to share a bed with Kat and keep my hands off of her.
“Come see this.” I beckon with my hand.
Kat saunters over, dropping a pillow on the love seat as she passes.
“What are you doing?” I ask, curious about the pillow.
“Uh, coming to see something. You called me.” Kat looks at me like I’ve grown a third head.
I need to rein this in. I’m used to being in control, confident, the one people can lean on. But the idea of sharing a room with Kat has thrown me for a loop, and I’m floundering here.
Jesus, I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. It sounds like the plot from one of those romance novels Miller is always reading. Oh no, they go on vacation, and there’s only one bed, and now they have to bang.
I straighten my shoulders. There will be no banging. This is a professional arrangement.
“With the pillows, Kat. Are you redecorating?”
She looks past me to the beach, her eyes growing wide as she takes in the massive expanse of coastline that’s visible and the ocean that stretches as far as I can see. “This is beautiful. I could just look at this view all day.”
I could, too, although my view is one of Kat’s tight ass and long legs in that sundress, her hands pressed up against the window. What would it be like to fuck her just like this? Her looking out at the ocean, watching the waves crash on the sand as I drive into her over…and over…and over…
“Blake?” Kat’s eyebrows form a line as they pull together.
Fuck.
“I’m good. What’s going on with the pillow?” Maybe if I redirect this, she’ll ignore the fact that I was staring at her ass.
“Oh. That. I figured I’d sleep on the love seat. It’s not huge, but it’ll be fine for a few nights. I know you were kind of thrown by sharing a room.”
I turn to look at the sofa. “Love seat” is an accurate description. “Oversized armchair” may be even more accurate, actually.
“You can’t sleep there.”
“Why?”
The love seat looks like it could fit maybe half of Kat’s body comfortably. If she pushes her head up against one arm, her legs will hang off the other end. There’s no chance that would be comfortable for anyone but a four-year-old.
I gesture to the seating, which looks smaller by the minute. “It’s nowhere near big enough. Your legs are going to hang over the edge.”
She studies the furniture. “It’ll be fine for a few nights. Besides, what’s the other option? Are you going to sleep there?”
“We’re adults. We can share a bed without it getting inappropriate. Right?” I take a step toward the bedroom, but I look over my shoulder at Kat. “Right?”
At least, I sure as hell hope she can. Because my willpower is growing really, really thin.