Charlotte
“Charlotte. Wake up.”
I crack my eyes open to find Perry standing over the bed, fully dressed in last night’s clothes minus the jacket and tie. I immediately sit up in bed, the blankets falling to my lap, exposing my nakedness and his gaze drops to my chest.
Reminding me of the first time we met, when he kept staring at my legs and called my breasts tits just to shock me.
We’ve definitely come a long way in a short amount of time.
“Where are you going?” I grab his hand, tugging on it. “Come back to bed.”
“I need to go.”
“Why?” My body aches in the most delicious way, thanks to all the sex Perry and I just had.
“You need your rest. We have a big day and it’s all going to start for you in a couple of hours,” he explains, sounding completely logical.
But I’m feeling totally illogical and I tug harder on his hand, wanting him back in bed with me. “Please don’t go.”
“I’ll see you later. At the wedding.” He leans in and kisses me, his tongue brushing mine far too briefly. “And we can do this again, you know. Tonight.”
“Tonight.” My heart squeezes. “We’ll be married then.”
“You’ll be exhausted.”
“So will you.”
“Could still fuck you though.” He grins.
“Rude.” I scowl.
“You like it.” He kisses me again. “Go back to bed.”
“Why?”
“You’re a distraction.”
“My tits?”
His eyes darken and he reaches for me, cupping my breast, his thumb playing with my nipple. “Yeah. Your tits are a complete distraction, future wife. Now get under the covers.”
I let him tuck me into bed. He pulls the covers to my chin and presses a kiss to my forehead. I close my eyes, my lids heavy, and I realize maybe he’s right.
Maybe I should catch up on some sleep. My day will be longer than his since there’s so much prep to do for my big day, while all he has to do is shower, shave, and get dressed.
I’m half asleep by the time he slips out of the hotel room, and once he’s gone, I’m wide awake. My thoughts are too consumed with what happened between us, reliving every single moment. How controlling he was in the beginning—and how much I liked it. The way he touched me. Kissed me. How I sat on his face—my God. Every bit of it was amazing. Perfect.
And this man is going to be my husband.
I almost squeal out loud, I’m so happy.
It’s around nine when I give up and crawl out of bed, slipping on a pair of black joggers and a matching sweatshirt, not bothering with panties and a bra. I’m experiencing this weird combination of exhausted and exhilarated that I know only coffee can fix. I consider calling for room service, but it’ll take too long.
I want the coffee now.
After I throw my hair into a quick ponytail, I exit the hotel room, the key in my pocket, the earrings Perry gave me still in my ears. I touch one as I ride the elevator to the ground floor, a secret smile playing upon my lips.
My future husband got exactly what he wanted. Me wearing nothing but the earrings last night. And I got what I wanted too—I saw every one of his tattoos.