Page 39 of Stripped

“Life is never that simple,” I said, but my voice was breathy, because laying on him, having his face that close to mine, was making it hard to breathe.

“It should be. It fucking should be.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead and looked at me like he wanted to do more, but he tweaked my nose and turned back to the T.V. “What next?”

“We should call the front desk and arrange our wake-up call.” I snuggled deeper into his arms, wishing I could stay there forever. “I'm getting sleepy.”

He rubbed my back. “Why do we need a wake-up call? Are we in a hurry to get out of here in the morning?”

I looked up at him. “No, but I do want to hit the gym before we leave and… It's just nice, to wake up to the sound of a friendly voice and a gentle good wish for the day.”

He grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Of course, it is. What time do you want your wake-up?”

I told him and let him make the call down to the front desk, because I was way too comfortable to move and my arms felt way too heavy for such an onerous task.

“Now what?” he asked. “If you're serious about using every amenity, we should check out the porn on offer.”

“Porn's not free.” I didn't even have the energy to roll my eyes, and I yawned halfway through the sentence. Even as tired as I was, the mention of porn had me envisioning naughty, naked things that had parts of me perking up with decided interest. If I watched porn with Zane, lying on his chest, my body wrapped around his, I would give in to every one of my lustful thoughts about him and I'd ruin this amazing friendship we were building. I'd break his heart, and I never wanted to hurt him. “No porn.”

He gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I'm fully emasculated now so I won't argue about whatever movie you pick.”

I could have shown him mercy, but Pride and Prejudice was on and I couldn't resist. He rolled his eyes and moaned, but he shut up and watched it. I fell asleep before Elizabeth met Darcy.

***

“This is your wake-up call,” a refined, male voice whispered into my ear. “I hope you have a fantastic day.” I startled and sat straight up to see Zane, phone receiver in his hand, amused grin on his face.

“Some wake-up call,” he said. “You didn't even hear the phone ring.”

“Did you whisper in my ear?”

His grin widened. “No, I put the phone to your ear.” He put the receiver back on the cradle and leaned into me. “If I whispered a wake-up call in your ear it would be…” He pressed his lips to the shell of my ear and kissed it. “You're the sexiest woman I've ever seen. Or, now that I've had you in my bed, no other woman will ever compare. Or, Zane is an amazing guy, you should lock that shit down.”

I jerked away from him, because my hands had started to wander, I'd started thinking sex might be a nice way to wake up, but then he'd reminded me that we wanted very different things. “I should get dressed. I want to hit the gym.”

I leapt out of that bed like it was on fire and locked myself in the bathroom. Even with the door shut, I could still hear his laughter, could still hear his sweet whispers. My resolve was dissolving. I wanted to give into him, to let him touch me, but I couldn't do that, I wouldn't.

I pulled on a comfy pair of sweats and a t-shirt and realized I hadn't bought myself sneakers. I'd bought shoes, pretty boots and snow boots, but nothing I could work out in. “Do you think I can work out in bare feet?” I stepped into the room as I asked the question, eyes on my feet.

Zane didn't answer, so I looked up and saw he was still in bed, the blankets thrown off. He was wearing only boxers and his eyes were closed, his face slack in sleep. I couldn't stop staring at him. The man was an artist's canvas of hard lines and planes, his arms flung out to the sides, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his boxer briefs tight and outlining every inch. I couldn't breathe. He was erect and I couldn't get a breath, because I wanted, more than I'd ever wanted anything before, to lay myself over him and feel his skin against mine, to pull down his boxers and wrap my lips around him.

“Enjoying the view?”

My gaze flew to his face. His eyes were open, his grin wide.

“You can get a lot more exercise in bed with me than you can in that silly hotel gym.”

I considered it. I took a step toward him, every bone in my body and every drop of blood in my veins urging me toward him and that warm bed. Except, I still couldn't catch my breath and I knew jumping into that bed with him would be more than sex, it would be everything. It would be the weight around my neck that kept me in Mule Creek when I should go to Denver. He would become the man I resented for his small life and his small dreams.

I retreated and his grin widened, like my retreat was what he wanted. “You're scared.”

“I'm pissed that I forgot to buy sneakers.”

He sat up, his muscles rippling and flowing as he moved. “You're scared of what will happen if you stop denying that you want me and get into this bed with me.”

“Right,” I said. “I'm scared you'll get attached, and I'll break your heart.”

His expression softened. “I'm already attached, Abby. I'm already going to miss you when you leave. That fear in your eyes, it isn't for me, it's for you. You're scared you won't be able to walk away, and that means it's about more than sex. You care about me. You're attached to me.”

“You're a cocky a-hole,” I said, surprised by my own anger. I was mad because he was right and, even as I could admit that in some rational part of my brain, I couldn't stop being angry. “I'm going to the gym.”

---