Page 39 of Vain
“It’s been a long day,” he agrees, wiping his fingers on his napkin before he tosses it on his plate.
“It’s been a long few months for me,” I admit, looking toward my room. When we got to town, I booked a suite. We have a communal sitting area with an outdoor terrace but separate bedrooms and bathrooms. “I think I’m going to jump in the shower and call it a night.”
“Sounds good. I’m going to grab the dishes and leave them outside for room service.”
I nod, feeling oddly shy for some reason. Instead of dwelling on it, I head to my room and rummage through my bag for my nightie and some clean underwear. I grab my toiletries bag fromthe top and carry it all into the bathroom. I turn the shower on, twist my hair up, and hold it in place with a clip. As the water warms up, I strip out of my clothes and grab some shower gel from my bag. I climb in and stand under the spray for a few minutes, letting it wash the day away. My thoughts drift back to Zoe and then to Cora. I’ve spent so long living in a bubble that I forgot that the world continued turning even if it felt like it stood still for me.
I clean up and get out, drying off with a plush white towel. Finding a moment of bravery, I let the towel drop to the floor and stand in front of the mirror naked. I take in the duality of my body—the smooth, unblemished skin on one side and the mottled scars on the other. This morning, I would have recoiled in horror. It’s funny how meeting Zoe changed things.
Physically, I’m still the same, but perspective is everything. I rub some lotion into my skin and think about how I’ve been looking at things all wrong. I’m so used to being criticized by my mom and the media that I never noticed I was doing it to myself, too. Instead of feeling ashamed of my body, I should be feeling amazed that it went through something horrific and still came out strong. I’m not sure I am ready to think of my scars as battle wounds, but I shouldn’t be looking at them like they’re marks of failure either.
I slip the nightdress on, which is a light purple and made of silk. It skims lightly over my skin, ending at my calves. There is a split that reaches up to mid-thigh, which means I don’t feel as restricted wearing it as I do some. I like to feel pretty, but I don’t get the beauty-is-pain thing—not outside of work anyway.
I don’t bother with underwear, feeling a wave of heat lick through me at the thought of being next to Aiden and him being oblivious. I remove my makeup, moisturize my face, brush my teeth, and then my hair before returning to the bedroom. The cool air from the AC makes goosebumps break out overmy skin right away. I shiver, cursing myself for forgetting the robe that goes with the nightdress. I pause near the foot of the bed, marveling at the realization that not being covered up isn’t sending me into a blind panic. I feel safe to let my guard down with Aiden, and I have to admit it’s freeing.
I look to the door and bite my lip. Part of me wants to go out there and invite him in, but I’m not sure I’m ready for more just yet. Something tells me if I invite him in, sex will be inevitable. I want to have sex with him. Holy moly, I do. But what if….
I shake my head. Nope. No more negative thoughts, Matilda. I chastise myself before climbing into bed and turning out the lamp.
I toss and turn for what feels like forever but is probably only an hour or so before I hear a tapping at the door.
“Come in,” I call out as I sit up, wondering if something is wrong. Crap, did the hospital call? “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just can’t sleep.”
“Oh.”
He steps into the room, and my eyes zero in on his naked chest. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts, so all I can see is a vast expanse of golden lickable skin. The man is fit. I knew that, of course, but his body is a work of art. I want to trail my fingers over those ridges of his stomach down the little grooves at the side of his?—
“Tilly?” he calls out, and his tone tells me he’s said my name more than once.
“Yeah?” I answer, coming out of my daze.
“I want to hold you. Are you up for that?”
I remember all the reasons it’s a bad idea to let Aiden into my bed and throw them all out the window. “Sure. I’d like that.”
He’s moving before I’ve finished speaking. He lifts the covers and slides in next to me, moving in so close I can feel the heat radiating off him before he even touches me.
His arm slides around my waist as soon as I lie down. I turn away from him and sigh when he pulls my back to his chest, his knees bent behind mine. “That’s better,” he mumbles behind me, his voice sounding deeper.
My skin tingles with awareness. There is no way I’m going to fall asleep like this. He’s too—everything. I’ve never been so aware of another person before in my life.
But when he settles in and his breathing evens out, it has a deep, calming effect on me. His warm breath skates over my shoulder, and the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat soon makes me drift off into a deep sleep.
One which is nightmare free.
Chapter Seventeen
AIDEN
I woke up an hour ago, but it was still dark out, and nothing was going to make me leave this bed. Not when I have the most beautiful woman in the world wrapped up in my arms. I breathe her in, wondering what I did to deserve this. I’m half afraid it’s all a joke, and I’m somehow the punchline. Matilda Carson is in my bed, in my arms, and my cock wants nothing more than to be buried inside her.
Unable to stop myself, I slide my hand around her ribs and cup her breast through the silky fabric of her nightgown. I thrust my hard cock against her ass, imagining what it would feel like to slip into her tight wet heat. She stirs, grinding back into me, making me curse as I tweak her nipple.
She jolts, her swift inhale of air making me wonder if I should stop. But when she keeps silent and ever so slightly pushes back into me, I carry on, wondering if perhaps she needs to be pushed a little.
“Fuck. If you knew what you do to me,” I grumble, sliding my hand down her thigh. I grip the silk in my fist and slowly edge it up her body. And still, she doesn’t stop me.
