Page 59 of Hale Yes
Angelica speaks up, her face once again smug for the first time since I put her in her place at dinner. “I needed extra space for some of my stuff, so I moved it all into your old room.”
“Oh. Okay.” Nicolette sounds a little freaked out, and to be honest, I am too. But I take her hand and give her what I hope is a reassuring smile instead of an expression ofholy shit, I’m going to be sharing a bedroom with a woman I’m wildly attracted to and yet can’t touch because she’s my employee.
“It’s fine, babe,” I say for everyone else’s benefit as we head upstairs.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeats in a whispered hiss the entire time we’re walking up the steps and turning down a hallway to the left.
“It’s fine,” I repeat. “I can take the floor.”
Nicolette pops her eyebrows at me as soon as she swings open a door and waits for my response.
“Oh.” That’s all I’ve got because this is the tiniest room I’ve ever seen. I’m not even sure if it could be considered a room. More like a glorified closet. The walls are painted a soft blue, and the bed covers have a blue-and-black diamond pattern that makes my eyes cross.
I stare at the bed that I’ll apparently be sharing with Nicolette because there is no floor space to speak of. The bed is pushed up against the left wall, and there’s less than a foot of room on the right side because a black lacquered dresser takes up most of that wall. Our suitcases wait at the foot, and the fit is so tight, we have to squeeze around them just to enter.
Nicolette deflates before my eyes. “I’m so sorry about this, Helix. I didn’t even think…”
My cock hardens simply from standing beside a bed with this gorgeous woman, which doesn’t bode well for me, but I tighten my fingers around hers in reassurance.
“We’ll make it work. There’s plenty of room.” My tone is falsely cheerful, but I smile through it.
She casts me a dubious look because there is definitelynotplenty of room on the bed… thedoublebed.
Christ on a go-kart.
“You’re right. We’re both adults,” she tells me, making me harder as I think about some very adult things. “Why don’t you get ready for bed first? The bathroom is across the hall.”
I scoot around her, and the space is so limited, my erection brushes against her round ass. My sharp intake of breath is echoed by Nicolette’s. Pretending like my cock didn’t just have the pleasure of meeting those soft globes, I quickly grab a few things from my suitcase and hold them in front of my crotch to hide the evidence of what she already felt.
“I’m just gonna…” Jerking my head toward the hallway, I exit like the hounds of hell are on my heels.
Fifteen minutes and one cold shower later, I re-enter the prison cell, er, bedroom, with a settled cock to find Nicolette attempting to gnaw a hole in her bottom lip.
“All yours,” I announce. I’m dressed in soft black shorts and a plain white T-shirt, and once she’s gone, I contemplate what to do. I normally sleep in my underwear unless Reece is staying over. Then I wear my pants or shorts, sans shirt. I sweat like a motherfucker if I try to sleep with a shirt on, no matter how low I set the air conditioner.
Finally deciding that sweating through the mattress would be more embarrassing than sleeping shirtless, I pull it off over my head and fold it neatly on the dresser. If Nicolette seems uncomfortable with my lack of sleeping attire, I’ll put it back on and try my best to deal with it.
I sit on the edge of the bed and scroll through my phone until Nicolette returns, her hair in a messy topknot, her face scrubbed clean, and…
She’s trying to kill me. Literally. The woman wants to send me into cardiac arrest. Without my permission, my eyes plunge down her body and to her sleepwear, which consists of a red satin tank top with skinny crisscross straps and lace around the bust. The hemline of the matching shorts slants upward on the sides, revealing a whole lotta damn leg.
The Sahara Desert has apparently relocated to my mouth. Or maybe my salivary glands have malfunctioned because my dry tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth.
“Hey, sorry. This is all I brought. I didn’t know…” She looks uncomfortable, shifting from one bare foot to the other.
I manage to produce enough spit to get my tongue to work, though my voice is croaky. “It’s nice. Totally fine.” Not sure howmany times I’ve said the wordfinein the past hour, but I’ve definitely gone over my limit at this point.
Her chin dips shyly. “Pretty lingerie is my guilty pleasure.”
“Mine too,” I say before I can stop myself. When her head snaps up, I quickly add with a chuckle, “Not to wear but to… admire.”
Our eyes lock and then Nicolette’s drag down my body, hanging on the scar on my shoulder for a second. Her brow wrinkles, but she doesn’t comment because her appreciative gaze continues its downward trek. It’s almost palpable against my bare skin. Without makeup, the pink flush coloring her cheeks is easy to discern. Due to the confined space, I can smell her body wash, something fresh and light. But something else joins the scent. Is that feminine arousal?
Apparently having an excellent sense of smell, my cock makes a resurgent effort in my pants, and Ireallyneed her eyes to not land that far down. So I say her name.
“Nicolette?”
She almost looks surprised at her brazenness as her gaze returns to my face. Her voice is a sweet rasp, laden with what sounds like desire. “Yes?”
