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I can’t. It would be impossible to look away from him.

“I’m hard for you.” His statement sounds like a warning, not an enticement. Those words should freak me out, make my cheeks even warmer, but I’ve come to some very thrilling conclusions since he was gone.

I married this man. He’s mine, and that knowledge sends a thrill of need running over every inch of my flesh. I have no idea how far things could go tonight, but I’m not pumping the brakes just yet.

The leather of his belt hisses as he pulls it free of the loops in his jeans, and when he sits on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots and socks, I find that his declaration is very true, the thickness of his erection outlined by the stiff denim.

“April?”

“Hmm?” I manage, pulling my eyes away from his middle.

He stands but doesn’t get closer to me. “I’m going to take my jeans off now.”

“You are?” I swallow, my eyes darting back to where his fingers are working open the button before moving to the zipper. The rasp that fills the air is like fingers on my skin, featherlight brushes that promise so many things.

“I need to get a shower. We’ve already established that I do that naked.”

“Me too,” I stupidly say.

His laughter is light, but I can’t focus on it as he pushes the denim to his feet, kicking the fabric away. His hands now hang down by his sides, fingers twitching like he’s fighting a battle of his own.

“Do you need a shower, April?”

My mouth hangs open, my eyes taking a little too long to work back up his body until I get to his eyes. I can’t seem to stop focusing on the bulge in his boxer briefs. One of his hands moves closer to it, like he’s aching to touch it, but then he drops it back down by his side, no doubt determining that touching himself would be going a little too far. I want to tell him that it wouldn’t, that I’m aching as much as he seems to be, but I’m not that brave.

“A shower, April?”

I shake my head. Is he wanting me to join him? I couldn’t possibly.

“I took one a couple of hours ago.” Plus, I’m wet enough as it is.

“I’ll be out in a couple of minutes. Get ready for bed.”

Sleep is going to be impossible. Doesn’t he know that?

The bathroom door closes, snapping me out of my trance and I move quickly to change my clothes, in the closet with the door closed at first. I change my panties because I ruined the ones I was wearing, pulling on one of his soft t-shirts. I want to be brazen and climb between the sheets in only those two items, but just the thought of it stresses me out, so I pull on a pair of cotton shorts before running across the room and diving into the bed.

The cool sheets feel amazing on my heated skin as I close my eyes and take long, deep breaths. My pulse is erratic, the sound pounding in my ears. My breathing is shallow and labored as if I just ran a marathon.

I sit with my back against the headboard, the covers pulled up to my middle, wishing I didn’t know what the man looked like with water droplets on his skin, but flashes of that time I walked in on him in the hotel seem to be playing on a constant reel in my mind.

I manage to slow my breathing by the time the bathroom door opens, but my efforts were pointless because he walks out in a towel, low on his hips, moisture still clinging to his skin like even the water is reluctant to let go of him.

“Forgot clothes,” he says as he makes his way to the closet.

The towel drops to the floor before the door swings closed behind him, and now I know just how muscular he is everywhere. The tan line at his waist is now going to be burned into my mind.

I notice when he walks out of the closet that the problem he was having with his boxers being so tight doesn’t seem to have abated during his shower.

Then he flips the light off in the room. My hearing goes on high alert as I sense him walking through the room to his side of the bed. He doesn’t waste a second, pulling me to his side. This is much more intimate than the way we’ve snuggled in the past. I’m half on his chest, my head resting just over his heart. I have no idea what to do with my hand. I could tuck it between us, but that means I won’t be touching him with the front of me as much. That seems like a mistake, so I rest it gently on the area of his torso between his pecs and stomach.


Tags: Marie James Romance