Emery drank the rest of her water and got settled while I finished getting ready for bed, and when I came back into the room, the only light came from my bedside lamp. It cast a soft glow, and I felt strangely warm as she watched me round the bed and walk to the side that had become mine.
She wasn’t gazing at me with desire, but some other kind of look I struggled to understand. Was it longing? I got under the covers and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, and a terrifying and thrilling idea descended on me.
I’d warned her not to, but Emery seemed like the type of woman who did as she pleased. Was she . . . starting to fall for me?
Emotions clashed inside my head. Part of me was excited at the possibility, but another part was cautious. I wasn’t the most trusting guy and did not want another transactional relationship. I’d be a fool not to consider all scenarios. What if I was only seeing what she wanted me to?
When we’d talked last night, she’d steered the conversation away from her past even better than I’d done to her. She had a reason, though, didn’t she? She’d been arrested and had a record, and it was clear she was ashamed of it. She’d offered that information honestly.
What was my excuse?
I froze when the bed shifted. Every night we’d stayed on our own sides, but now Emery ventured out across the mattress, closing the space between us. Her soft hand grasped mine and dragged it up, making room for her beneath my arm. I swallowed hard as she hesitantly tucked herself in, laying her head on my bicep and a hand on my bare chest.
Her breathing was hurried and uneven. She’d done this not knowing how I’d react and was nervous she’d overstepped. She whispered it like I might somehow be asleep already and didn’t want to wake me. “Is this okay?”
With her hand on my chest, could she feel how quickly my heart was beating? I didn’t mind if a girl wanted to cuddle after sex, but I’d never done it before, or in place of it. I wasn’t used to connecting this way, and before tonight, I would have said ‘no, thanks’ to it.
But . . . I liked it so much, I tightened my arm subtly, pulling her even closer.
“Yeah.” I said it more for myself than for her. “It’s okay.”
I had my hand on my dick and was mid-stroke in the shower when the bathroom door creaked open. Everything slowed to a stop as the hazy figure appeared in the doorway. I couldn’t make her out exactly because I hadn’t put my contacts in yet, but also because the shower door was fogged. I swiped a hand on the glass to clear away the steam, and found her standing only a few feet away, wearing the same bathrobe as she’d been the other morning.
She stared at me with an even mixture of determination and trepidation. Like last night, she wasn’t sure if this was a risk she should take—but she was going to try anyway. She unbelted the robe, pushed it off her shoulders, and let it drop in a heap to the floor.
Fuck me. How was it she looked even better than the last time I’d seen her naked?
Her stare was intense, and mine back at her was probably the same, and we engaged in a wordless conversation.
She could have asked if I wanted her to join me earlier because she’d been awake when I gotten out of bed ten minutes ago. We’d had a quick conversation where she’d said she was good and didn’t feel hungover, so I’d kissed her before leaving to grab my shower. Maybe she’d needed the extra time to work up the courage because she was silently asking me if I wanted company now.
I straightened and pushed open the door.
It gave her the first look at me completely naked, and even though my less than perfect eyesight meant I couldn’t make out every detail of her expression, I saw the path of her gaze as it worked down my body. She liked what she saw, and her throat bobbed with a swallow as she reached my favorite part. The longer she stared at me without moving, the hotter I became.
But she’d asked to join me, and she couldn’t do that if she remained in the center of the room. My voice was tight with something that felt a hell of a lot like need. “Did my amazing dick distract you? Get in here.”
My statement jolted Emery into action, and she came forward, stepping into the well of the shower and pulling the door closed behind her.
The space was big, with jets and a handheld nozzle in addition to the square rainfall showerhead that loomed over us. The tile was various shades of tans and ivories and some with an iridescent sheen, and Emery studied it like she’d never seen it before, even though she’d taken a shower every day since we’d arrived.