“Key,” he says stopping outside my door.
I rummage in my handbag, and pull my key card out. Reaching down, I put it into the slot and push the handle down, as Jake shoves my door open with his leg.
He carries me through the darkened living room of my suite, letting the door swing shut behind us. I drop my shoes to the floor and toss my handbag onto the sofa as he passes by it.
“Fuck!” he curses, walking into the coffee table.
“You okay,” I stifle a giggle.
“No,” he grumbles. “It hurts like a mother fucker.”
“I’ll rub it better for you.”
“Is that a promise?” His tone is serious. He’s staring down at me, his eyes impenetrable in the darkness of my suite.
Looking away, I say nothing.
We reach the bedroom and Jake gently deposits me down on the bed.
“Why thank you kind, sir,” I say putting on a really bad Southern accent like Smith’s, except his is actually cool. “Your work here is done.”
“Not yet, it’s not.” He pulls his boots off and climbs onto the bed, lying down beside me.
“Are you staying?” I ask, nervous.
“Of course I am. I’m not leaving my girl drunk and alone. You might be sick and choke on your own vomit.”
His girl? And also, worst excuse ever for climbing into my bed, Jake, seriously.
But then I’m not exactly fighting him out of here either.
“I’m not drunk,” I giggle. “And just trust me, I’ve taken care of myself in worse states than this.”
“Yeah? Well you shouldn’t have had to.”
What’s that supposed to mean? Was that a dig at Will?
He turns on his side and faces me in the darkness. “Do you want me to go?” he murmurs, and his voice suddenly sounds all deep and intense.
Shivers envelop me. My heart-rate increases, and my breathing hitches.
“No, it’s fine, stay. But I need to pee,” I say, voice pitchy, as I climb off the bed.
I cross the bedroom on seriously wobbly legs, which have nothing to do with the alcohol in my system, and everything to do with Jake in my bed over there, and grab my pyjamas; a vest and short set, and stumble into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
I pee, brush my teeth, take my make-up off and climb in the shower.
After I finish my shower, I put my pyjamas on, towel dry my newly clean hair, and tie it damp into a messy knot.
I’m hoping I’ve been gone long enough so that Jake has fallen asleep because I’ve got a feeling if he hasn’t, I’m soon going to be making the mistake, I really want to make with him tonight.
I turn the light off before opening the bathroom door, then I quietly let myself back into the bedroom and pad my way across the carpeted floor.
As I’m nearing the bed, Jake utters, “Well that was the longest pee in history. What the fuck were you doing in there?”
So he is still awake. Crap.
“I took a shower, just like you should.”
“You saying I smell?” he chuckles.
I pull the duvet back and climb into bed.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, but if you’re too lazy to take a shower, can you at least take your stinky ass clothes off, and get your own blanket out of the wardrobe.”
Laying on my back, I tuck the duvet safely around me.
Like that will stop Jake getting near me if he wants to. The man could undress a woman with one look alone.
“Yes ma’am.”
He clambers up off the bed and I watch in the dark as he pulls his T-shirt off over his head and removes his jeans, leaving him in just his boxer shorts. His sexy, tight black boxer shorts.
“Fuck, I do stink,” he says sniffing his T-shirt, then his armpit. He tosses his shirt to the floor next to his jeans. “I’ll take a quick shower.”
He disappears off into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar and the light flooding into the bedroom.
I lay here, my heart beating up a storm in my chest. My whole body on fire, as I listen to the running water, desperate to go climb back in that shower with Jake, and do things with him I shouldn’t want to do.
I hear the water go off, then he re-emerges a few minutes later, wearing only a towel around his waist, his hair all damp and mussed up.
I’m so done for.
He leaves the bathroom door ajar again, a splay of light in the room illuminating his nearly naked form, his tattoos looking intricate in the low-light. He looks beautiful, and I wonder if he’s done it on purpose leaving the light on him, giving me a full view.
Maybe he left the door open while he was getting a shower on purpose too.
Maybe it was an invitation.
He saunters over and drops back onto the bed, wearing only the towel.
This is not good. Well, it is good, great in fact … but not good for so many reasons.
He rolls onto his side facing me. “Do you remember when we used to sleep together like this when we were kids?”