Yeah, his thoughts exactly. ‘Well.’ He stated it quietly. ‘This isn’t Nathan’s room. This is my room.’ Literally. Every room in the place was his.
Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times. He waited—motionless—to see how this was going to go. She didn’t seem to realise her thighs were sandwiching his hand in a hot, smooth vice and he wasn’t going to make any sudden kind of movement. But the memory of those limbs straddling his hips wasn’t helping him recover his equilibrium. All he could feel were those lush, strong curves. He wanted the rest of him to be in the midst of them again.
She flicked a wild glance around the room and then arrowed all her attention right back at him. ‘But this has to be his room—I counted the doors. The other one was empty.’
He pressed his lips together to stop the chuckle sliding out because he didn’t want to make the situation worse for her.
‘Are you sure you’re in the right room?’ she asked, her eyes still shocked wide.
‘Positive. I got in late last night.’ He’d been so tired it had been all he’d been able to do to stumble from the shower straight to what was definitely his bed. ‘I came to bed and then the best dream ever turned out to be real.’
Only his dream-turned-real lover was now turning fifty shades of red—embarrassment staining her skin in a swift sweep. Her murmurs of pleasure came back to him—her rough claim that she hadn’t known it would be so good. Yeah. The sweetheart had made a mistake. She’d meant that passion for some other guy. A sharp claw of envy swiped his ribs, puncturing his enjoyment of his best ever wake-up. But it hadn’t been some other guy who’d pleased her so much. It had been him.
‘You’re a guest here?’ she asked in a low choked voice.
‘Actually I—’
She didn’t give him the chance to introduce himself; instead she launched into a monologue of mortification and panic. ‘Oh, I can’t believe this. I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry.’
Partly because he wanted to see her reaction, but mainly because he couldn’t resist, he let his fingers stroke—just the once, so very gently—in the hot, damp prison she gripped them in.
The incessant apologies ended instantly on a breathless gasp. Her mouth reddened, her muscles tightened and her temperature sizzled. His eyes locked on hers, watching the blue go brilliant, then her black pupils absorbed that colour as they swelled super fast. Her flush deepened. He felt the spasms before she twisted, releasing him as she scuttled to the far edge of the bed.
‘You don’t need to apologise,’ he said, wondering if he should be the one saying sorry now. But he couldn’t quite regret it. She’d been waking up so wonderfully willing in his arms when she’d thought he was this Nathan, but just then? That had been a raw response to him. She was hot and hungry for him. As she’d been last night when he’d been the one to meet her demands.
A swift glance told him what he needed to know—there were no rings between those white knuckles. No guy had staked a permanent claim and the Nathan guy was a fool for not taking her to bed sooner. The woman was passionate and hungry, literally a dream lover.
He coughed to ease the constriction in his chest. ‘I’m sorry I’m not Nathan.’
Only because he wanted what she’d meant for the other guy—that invitation and pleasure. Hell, he wanted it now. He was stiffer than a steel pipe and feeling her sensual response spike like that had worsened it. But he fought the impulse to drag her close again, wincing at his new-found Neanderthal leanings.
The poor woman was completely mortified and he was all rampaging lust, desperate to sleep with her again. What kind of human was he?
Definitely one who’d been without too long. Because try as hard as he could he couldn’t seem to ‘relax’.
‘Don’t be sorry.’ She emphatically shook her head.
Her deepening discomfort bothered him more than his uncontrollable body. Somehow he had to limit the damage here and help her find a funny side. And nothing smoothed a situation more than some humour.
* * *
Ellie struggled to hide her breathlessness. Shock still had her lungs in a tight grip, but so did desire—she was seconds from orgasm and, frankly, that doubled her shock.
She stared at the complete stranger only a couple of feet from her. The stranger that she now knew so intimately. And just looking at him sent her heart rate through the ceiling.
‘You’re okay?’ The soft query delivered between dangerously curved lips. That gorgeous smile was as natural to him as the stripes were to the tiger. Oh, yeah, he’d been blessed with beautiful lips, upturned at the ends so he looked as if he was always in good humour. Which, given all his other assets, he probably was.
She clutched the sheet closer. Only her action dragged the sheet completely off him and, yeah, this was definitely not Nathan. And his natural assets were...sizable.
‘I’m so sorry this happened,’ she said again, determined to ignore the savage desire rippling through her like some internal beast that refused to be tamed. What kind of depraved animal had she turned into?
‘I’m not.’
She hardly heard him as she apologised another ten times, interspersing the phrase with a few more choice words beneath her breath. Clutching the sheet to her with one hand, she put her now freezing hand to her face.
He sat up, resting his weight on one hand behind him, and spoke more forcefully. ‘You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to.’
That silenced her for all of a second. ‘You didn’t have much choice.’ She looked across the bed at him. ‘I seduced you.’ The guy had been sound asleep and she’d been stroking him all over. Like everywhere.
His smile burst forth again. ‘Yeah, well, it wasn’t like I said no.’ He chuckled. ‘And it wasn’t like I was a virgin.’
Well, no, he hadn’t been that. Ellie bit her lips to stop from smiling. He’d had all the moves. And he executed another now—a languorous stretch that drew her attention once more to his completely fit length.
Hell, she had to move away before she did something stupid again. So she stood, taking the sheet with her. She didn’t care about leaving him exposed, he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Whereas all she wanted to do was hide. She tried to wind the sheet around herself, glanced up to see him watching close—with undisguised amusement—and arousal. Man, was he aroused.
‘You’re free to take advantage of me any time you like,’ he said softly, lying back down again. ‘Or, you can come back to bed and let me take advantage of you this time.’
Oh, she so nearly had already and they both knew it. She felt her blush deepen. ‘I really am sorry.’
‘Sweetheart,’ he drawled, but with an underlying hint of seriousness. ‘I could have stopped you if I’d wanted to.’
And there was the question. She looked up from her twisted toga attempt—facing his gaze direct. ‘Why didn’t you want to?’
He
