We change into our non-sexy pajamas and I turn off the lights, but feel like she wants to talk. So, I wait. And wait.
The hotel room is still and dark. I strain to hear anything from Harlow’s side of the bed, a small sigh or her quiet breathing—anything to let me know whether she’s awake or asleep. My body reacts to hers as an unnamed tension radiates between us. Some might call it body heat. I call it fucking torture.
“Sin?” Harlow’s sweet voice cuts through the dark.
“Yes, Harlow.”
“I wonder if they have a room with two beds open tomorrow.” Yes, she’s feeling the same push and pull.
“It’s rough for me, too,” I confess.
“I want to touch you so bad.” Her voice rings with need.
I grit my teeth to keep me from saying something I’ll regret. “Uh huh.”
“How about this? Can we at least touch feet?”
We both break out in laughter and in that one second, all the tension is gone.
Chapter Thirty-One
Harlow
Over the last couple weeks, Sin has won my heart—all of it. Sweet and stubborn at first, he only allowed innocent toe touches under the sheets. We progressed to handholding. Then, finally, last night, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Now, I’m resting my head on his chest and nuzzling into his side. Hearing the steady beat of his heart gives me a calming sense of peace. Being held in his embrace is complete and total bliss. I have found a place I never want to leave.
Morning sun shines through the hotel curtains, but I don’t want to get up from the warm cocoon of his arms. I peek over at the clock on the nightstand. We only have a few minutes before the alarm goes off. Dammit.
I battle this needy struggle when he is near me. I feel him struggling too, but somehow, he triumphs over his desires. He hasn’t really kissed me since the day we were at the lake, and I long to have his lips on me again, kissing me until I’m so dizzy, I’m barely able to stay conscious.
Sure, he kisses me on my cheeks and forehead, like he would a sister or friend, but I want the kisses stored up for a lover. Like the passionate ones he trailed across my neck where my knees gave away.
Each night we lie in the darkness of the hotel room, tension hovers in the air from our suppressed desires. A want so thick, it presses against my skin.
I bring my hand to my face at the memory and try to will back the sensation of his touch, but the feeling never comes. Nothing can replace his lips.
At first, I asked him why he hasn’t kissed me again. He claimed it’s too soon for us to be together and I need time to heal from the past few months, find out who I really am again without trying to please a man.
But don’t we want to please those we care for? And I care for him in unsettling ways, which scares me, mostly since he’s leaving me in a few days to head back to Manhattan. I push the thought away and try to live in the moment. It may be all we have together.
I take a deep breath and savor his delicious scent. His arms tighten around me and I wonder if he’s starting to wake up too.
“Hmmm.” His chest vibrates beneath my cheeks. Yes, he’s up.
“Morning.” My voice is muffled thanks to his hard chest.
“How did you sleep?” he asks.
“Like a baby.”
“My baby, right?”
“Yes, yours,” I say, because I truly am.
“Maybe we should hit the showers.” He stirs, but I move in closer, not ready to leave the comfort of his side.
“How about we do the shower thing together?” I tease, knowing the answer before he even responds.
“Soon,” he sighs. “But for now, ladies first.” I rise off the bed and stick my tongue out at him, showing how mature I am. At least it makes him laugh.
***
Sin and I shower and then stop at the hotel restaurant for breakfast. I watch him consume a mile high stack of pancakes. He uses so much syrup, they are floating on the plate. Disgusting.
“Quit wrinkling your nose at me,” he says while stuffing half a pancake in his mouth.
“How can you eat all that sugar?” I give him a pointed stare.
“At least I’m eating.” He puts down his fork and reaches across the table to take my hand. Sticky syrup coats his fingers.
“I’m fine.” I look down at my uneaten breakfast.
He releases my hand and picks his fork back up. After spearing a pancake bite, he soaks it in the syrup. “Now, open up.”
I roll my eyes, but open my mouth. After a few chews, I swallow. I hate to admit it, but all the syrup tastes divine. Like a little birdie, I open my mouth again and he feeds me more.
“It’s good to see you eating.” He wipes the corner of my mouth with his napkin. “Even if you’re messy.” I roll my eyes again, and that simple act feels so good. I can express my likes and dislikes with Sin. He’s helped me learn that is how it should be.