Читать книгу Mistress to the Magnate: Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation - Jennifer Lewis, Michelle Celmer - Страница 13

Melody woke, disoriented and confused, expecting to be in her hospital bed. The she remembered she’d been set free and smiled, even though her head ached so hard she was sure that her eyeballs were going to pop from their sockets.

“Have a good nap?”

She looked over and saw Ash gazing down at her, a bottle of soda in his hand. Only then did she realize they were no longer moving. She rubbed her eyes, giving them a gentle push inward, just in case, and asked, “Why are we stopped?”

“Lunch break.”

She looked up and saw that they were parked in a fast-food restaurant lot.

“I was just going in to grab a burger. Do you want anything?”

“No, I’m good. But my head is pounding. What time is it?”

“After three.”

She’d been asleep for five hours?

“It’s probably the elevation. Do you need a pain pill?”

She nodded, so he opened the glove box and pulled out the prescription they had filled at the hospital pharmacy. “One or two?”

One pill wouldn’t put her to sleep, and she would be able to keep Ash company, but gauging the pain in her head, she needed two. “Two, I think.”

He tapped them out of the bottle and offered his soda to wash them down. “I’m going in. You sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m sure.”

While he was gone she lay back and closed her eyes. She must have drifted off again because when the car door opened, it startled her awake.

Ash was back with a bag of food. He unwrapped his burger in his lap and set his fries in the console cup holder. It wasn’t until they were back on the highway, and the aroma permeated the interior, when her stomach started to rumble in protest.

Maybe she was hungry after all. Every time he took a bite her jaw tightened and her mouth watered.

After a while Ash asked, “Is there a reason you’re watching me eat?”

She didn’t realize how intently she’d been staring. “Um, no?”

“You wouldn’t be hungry, would you?” he asked.

She was starving, but she couldn’t very well ask him to turn around and go back. “I can wait until the next stop.”

“Look in the bag,” he told her.

She did, and found another burger and fries inside.

“I kind of figured once you saw me eating you would be hungry, too.”

“Just one more reason why I love you,” she said, diving into her food with gusto.

She was only able to eat about half, so Ash polished off the rest. When she was finished eating the painkillers had kicked in and she dozed off with her stomach pleasantly full. A few hours later she roused for a trip to the rest stop, and as soon as the car was moving again, promptly fell back to sleep. The next time she opened her eyes it was dark and they were parked in front of an economy hotel. She realized that Ash was standing outside the open passenger door, his hand was on her shoulder, and he was nudging her awake.

“What time is it?” she asked groggily.

“After eleven. We’re stopping for the night,” he said. “I got us a room.”

Thirteen hours down, eleven to go, she thought. Maybe this time tomorrow they would be home.

He helped her out and across the parking lot. All the sleep should have energized her, but she was still exhausted, and her head hurt worse than it had before. Maybe this trip was harder on her system than she realized.

Their bags were already inside and sitting on the bed.

“They didn’t have any doubles left and there isn’t another hotel for miles,” he said apologetically. “If you don’t want to share, I can sack out on the floor.”

They had shared a bed for three years. Of course, she had no memory of that. Maybe he was worried that she would feel strange sleeping with him until they got to know one another better. Which she had to admit was pretty sweet. It was a little unusual being with him this late at night, since he always left the hospital by ten. But actually, it was kind of nice.

“I don’t mind sharing,” she assured him.

“How’s your head feel?”

She rubbed her left temple. “Like it’s going to implode. Or explode. I’m not sure which.”

He tapped two painkillers out and got her a glass of water. “Maybe a hot shower would help.”

She swallowed them and said, “It probably would.”

“You can use the bathroom first.”

She stepped in the bathroom and closed the door, smiling when she saw that he’d set her toiletry bag on the edge of the sink. He seriously could not take better care of her.

She dropped her clothes on the mat and blasted the water as hot as she could stand then stepped under the spray. She soaped up, then washed and conditioned her hair, then she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, letting the water beat down on her. When she felt herself listing to one side her eyes flew open and she jerked upright, realizing that she had actually drifted off to sleep.

She shut the water off and climbed out, wrapping herself in a towel that reeked of bleach. She combed her hair and brushed her teeth, grabbed her dirty clothes, and when she stepped out of the bathroom Ash was lying in bed with the television controller in one hand, watching a news program.

“Your turn,” she said.

He glanced over at her, did a quick double take, then turned back to the TV screen. “I thought I was going to have to call in the national guard,” he said. “You were in there a while.”

“Sorry. I fell asleep in the shower.”

“On or off?” he said, gesturing to the TV.

“Off. The second my head hits the pillow I’ll be out cold.”

He switched it off and rolled out of bed, grabbing the pajama bottoms he’d set out. “Out in a minute,” he said as he stepped in the bathroom and shut the door. Less than ten seconds later she heard the shower turn on.

Barely able to keep her eyes open, Melody walked on wobbly legs to the bed. She’d forgotten to grab something to sleep in from her suitcase, and with her case on the floor across the room, it hardly seemed worth the effort. It wasn’t as if he had never seen her naked before, and if she was okay with it, she was sure he would be, too.

She dropped her towel on the floor and climbed under the covers, her mind going soft and fuzzy as the painkillers started to do their job.

At some point she heard the bathroom door open and heard Ash moving around in the room, then she felt the covers shift, and she could swear she heard Ash curse under his breath. It seemed as though it was a long time before she felt the bed sink under his weight, or maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her. But finally she felt him settle into bed, his arm not much more than an inch from her own, its heat radiating out to touch her.

She drifted back to sleep and woke in the darkness with something warm and smooth under her cheek. It took a second to realize that it was Ash’s chest. He was flat on his back and she was lying draped across him. At some point she must have cuddled up to him. She wondered if they slept like this all the time. She hoped so, because she liked it. It felt nice to be so close to him.

The next time she woke up, she could see the hint of sunlight through a break in the curtains. She was still lying on Ash, her leg thrown over one of his, and his arm was looped around her, his hand resting on her bare hip. The covers had slipped down just low enough for her to see the tent in his pajama bottoms. It looked … well … big, and for the first time since the accident she felt the honest-to-goodness tug of sexual arousal. She suddenly became ultra-aware of her body pressed against his. Her nipples pulled into two hard points and started to tingle, until it felt as though the only relief would come from rubbing them against his warm skin. In fact, she had the urge to rub her entire body all over his. She arched her back, drawing his leg deeper between her thighs, and as she did, her thigh brushed against his erection. He groaned in his sleep and sank his fingers into the flesh of her hip. Tingles of desire shivered straight through to her core.

It felt so good to be touched, and she wanted more; unfortunately, the more turned on she became, and the faster her blood raced through her veins, the more her head began to throb. She took a deep breath to calm her hammering heart. It was clear that it would be a while before she was ready to put her body through the stress of making love.

That didn’t make her want Ash any less, and it didn’t seem fair to make him keep waiting, after having already gone through months of abstinence, when there was no reason why she couldn’t make him feel good.

Didn’t she owe him for being so good to her? For sticking by her side?

Melody looked at the tent in his pajamas, imagined putting her hand inside, and was hit with a sudden and overwhelming urge to touch him, a need to please him that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside, almost like a shadowy memory, hazy and distant and just out of reach. It had never occurred to her before, but maybe being intimate with him would jog her memory.

She slid her hand down his taut and warm stomach, under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. She felt the muscle just below the skin contract and harden under her touch. She moved lower still, tunneling her fingers through the wiry hair at the base. He was so warm there, as if all the heat in his body had trickled down to pool in that one spot.

She played there for just a few seconds, drawing her fingers back and forth through his hair, wondering what was going on in his head. Other than the tensing of his abdomen and the slight wrinkle between his brows, he appeared to be sleeping soundly.

When the anticipation became too much, she slid her hand up and wrapped it around his erection. The months without sex must have taken their toll because he was rock hard, and as she stroked her way upward, running her thumb along the tip, it was already wet and slippery.

She couldn’t recall ever having done this before—though she was sure she had, probably more times than she could count—but she inherently seemed to know what to do, knew what he liked. She kept her grip firm and her pace slow and even, and Ash seemed to like it. She could see the blood pulsing at the base of his throat and his hips started to move in time with her strokes. She looked up, watching his face. She could tell he was beginning to wake up, and she wanted to see his expression when he did.

His breath was coming faster now and his head thrashed from one side to the other, then back again. She was sure that all he needed was one little push.

She turned her face toward his chest, took his nipple in her mouth, then bit down. Not hard enough to leave a mark, only to arouse, and it worked like a charm. A groan ripped from Ash’s chest and his hips bucked upward, locking as his body let go. His fingers dug into her flesh, then he relaxed and went slack beneath her.

Mel looked up at him and found that he was looking back at her, drowsy and a little disoriented, as if he were still caught somewhere between asleep and awake. He looked down at her hand still gripping him inside his pajamas. She waited for the smile to curl his mouth, for him to tell her how good she made him feel, but instead he frowned and snapped, “Mel, what are you doing?”

Mel snatched her hand from inside Ash’s pajamas, grabbed the sheet and yanked it up to cover herself. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or hurt, or a little of both. But Melody didn’t do angry. Not with him anyway. At least, she never used to.

“I think the appropriate thing to say at a time like this is thanks, that felt great,” she snapped.

Yep, that was definitely anger.

“That did feel great. The part I was awake for.” Which wasn’t much.

He knew last night, when he’d pulled back the covers and discovered she was naked, that sleeping next to her would be a bad idea. When he woke in the middle of the night with her draped over him like a wet noodle, limp and soft and sleeping soundly, he knew that he should have rolled her over onto her own side of the bed, but he was too tired, and too comfortable to work up the will. And yeah, maybe it felt good, too. But he sure as hell hadn’t expected to wake up this morning with her hand in his pants.

Before the accident it would have been par for the course. If he had a nickel for every time he’d roused in the morning in the middle of a hot dream to find Melody straddling him, or giving him head.

But now he almost felt … violated.

Looked as if he should have listened to his instincts and slept on the damned floor.

The worst thing about this was seeing her there barely covered with the sheet, one long, lithe leg peeking out from underneath, the luscious curve of her left breast exposed, her hair adorably mussed, and all he could think about was tossing her down on the mattress and having his way with her.

Sex with Melody had always been off-the-charts fantastic. Always. She had been willing to try anything at least once, and would go to practically any lengths to please him. In fact, there were times when she could be a little too adventurous and enthusiastic. Three years into their relationship they made love as often and as enthusiastically as their first time when it was all exciting and new—right up until the day she walked out on him.

But when it came to staying angry with her, seeing her in such a compromised condition and knowing that she had no recollection of cheating on him took some of the wind out of his sails. For now. When she got her memory back, that would be a whole other story.

But that did not mean he was ready to immediately hop back into bed with her. When, and if, he was ready to have sex with her, he would let her know. He was calling the shots this time.

“I don’t get why you’re so upset about this,” she said, sounding indignant, and a little dejected.

“You could have woken me up and asked if it was okay.”

“Well, seeing as how we’re engaged, I really didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“You’re not ready for sex.”

“Which is why I don’t expect anything from you. I was perfectly content just making you feel good. Most guys—”

“Most guys would not expect their fiancée, who just suffered a serious head injury, to get them off. Especially one who’s still too fragile to have him return the favor. Did you ever stop to think that I might feel guilty?”

Some of her anger fizzled away. “But it’s been months for you, and I just thought … it just didn’t seem fair.”

Fair? “Okay, so it’s been months. So what? I’m not a sex fiend. You may have noticed that my puny reptile brain functions just fine without it.”

That made her crack a smile. “It didn’t seem right that you had to suffer because of me. I just wanted to make you happy.”

Is that what she had been doing the past three years? Making him happy? Had she believed that she needed to constantly please him sexually to keep him interested? Did she think that because he paid for her school, her room and board, kept her living a lifestyle many women would envy, that she was his … sex slave? And had he ever given her a reason to believe otherwise?

For him, their relationship was as much about companionship as sex. Although, in three years, of all the times she had offered herself so freely, not to mention enthusiastically, had he ever once stopped her and said, “Let’s just talk instead?”

Was that why she cheated on him? Did she need someone who treated her like an equal and not a sex object?

If she felt that way, she should have said so. But since they were stuck together for a while, he should at least set the record straight.

“The thing is, Mel, I’m not suffering. And even if I was, you don’t owe me anything.”

“You sure looked like you were this morning when I woke up,” she said.

“Mel, I’m a guy. I could be getting laid ten times a day and I would still wake up with a hard-on. It’s part of the outdoor plumbing package.”

She smiled and he offered his hand for her to take. She had to let go of the sheet on one side and it dropped down, completely baring her left breast. It was firm and plump, her nipples small and rosy, and it took all the restraint he could muster not to lean forward and take her into his mouth. He realized he was staring and tore his gaze away to look in her eyes, but she’d seen, and he had the feeling she knew exactly what he’d been thinking.

“Not suffering, huh?” she said with a wry smile.

Well, not anymore. Not much anyway.

“I honestly believe that we need to take this slow,” he said. “If you’re not physically ready, we wait. Both of us.”

“Okay,” she agreed solemnly, giving his hand a squeeze. “You mind if I use the bathroom first, or do you want it?”

“Go ahead.”

She rolled out of bed and he assumed she intended to take the sheet along to cover herself. Instead she let it fall and stood there in all her naked glory, thinner than she’d been, almost to point of looking a little bony, but still sexy and desirable as hell.

Instead of walking straight into the bathroom, she went the opposite way to her suitcase, her hair falling in mussed waves over her shoulders, the sway of her hips mesmerizing him. He expected her to lift her case and set it on the bed, but instead she bent at the waist to unzip her case right there. She stood not five feet away, her back to him, legs spread just far enough to give him a perfect view of her goods, and he damn near swallowed his own tongue. He saw two perfect globes of soft flesh that he was desperate to get his hands on, her thighs long and milky white, and what lay between them … damn. Doing him must have turned her on, too, because he could see traces of moisture glistening along her folds.

He had to fist the blankets to keep himself from reaching out and touching her. To stop himself from dropping to his knees and taking her into his mouth. He even caught himself licking his lips in anticipation.

She seemed to take an unnecessarily long time rifling through her clothes, choosing what to wear, then she straightened. He pulled the covers across his lap, so she wouldn’t notice that conspicuous rise in his pajamas, but she didn’t even look his way; then, as she stepped into the bathroom she tossed him a quick, wicked smile over her shoulder.

If that little display had been some sort of revenge for snapping at her earlier, she sure as hell knew how to hit where it stung.