Page 54 of Between Desire and Denial
“You don’t have to say a damn thing. I just want you to know it.” He took a step back and sighed. “My day has been particularly frustrating. So, we should get some rest.” Right after he said that, he looked down at me and reached behind his head to pull his shirt slowly over his body.
I watched the shirt rise inch by inch and every ab of his appeared below it. The V of muscle showing on the edge of his slacks was much more defined than any other man’s I’d ever seen. I had the urge to drag my tongue across it and started imagining how it would taste.
“I’m going to shower,” he said through what might have been clenched teeth, then he disappeared into the bathroom.
My desire for him was getting out of hand, and I refused to envision the water running down every ab, the way his arm would flex as he washed his hair, how big his—
I grabbed my phone to look at my dating app instead. I would find someone to talk to. I even swiped right and messaged a few guys, determined to do better.
I wouldn’t fall for a friend, especially not when he was a Hardy who could have any woman he wanted. I’d already made a fool of myself by getting cheated on by Rufford. Not again. Plus, I wanted to experience different things. I’d told Dimitri that time and time again. Back to swiping.
His eyes were nowhere near as interesting as Dimitri’s. They didn’t pierce my soul. Left.
That jawline couldn’t compete with any Hardy brother. Left.
There was no way he was as tall as Dimitri. Left.
I sighed deeply and I heard, “That guy looks like an asshole. Swipe left again.” I jumped and turned to see abs with water droplets now on them.
“Jesus, Dimitri. Put some clothes on.” I covered my eyes so I wouldn’t keep looking at his half-naked body.
“Olive, I have a towel on.” He chuckled and went into the walk-in closet only to come back with shorts on but no shirt.
“Are you sleeping without a shirt on again?” I said, frustration laced in my tone.
“Are you sleeping in what you’re wearing?”
I took a deep breath. “I can change if it makes you uncomfortable.” I was regretting my decision to get his attention now that I had to stare at his response.
“I’m not uncomfortable with your bare legs next to me.” He walked to his side of the bed where he grabbed the pillow from next to my head and placed it at my feet. Sleeping with his head at my feet was so juvenile and yet completely necessary at this point. I was too attracted to him to do otherwise. Then he flipped back his side of the comforter, and I felt the cool air on my legs and toes. “But then again, I have less restraint after a long day, and I’m not used to being frustrated all through the night.” His voice was strained, low and raw.
“I understand.” I licked my lips, not sure exactly what he was frustrated with. Me talking to him, lying next to him? “You took a lot of phone calls. It’s got to be a long day dealing with all of what you do. Are you talking to clients all day most days?”
He rubbed at his jaw. “You think I’m frustrated with work?”
“Well, yeah. I get it. I hear you talking to people all day and it sounds tiring,” I blurted out.
His eyes narrowed on me as he sat on his side of the bed. “Are you listening to my calls?”
“No. Of course not.”
“If you’re going to lie, take a breath before answering.” He chuckled and laid down. “It will be more believable.”
I sighed. “Okay. Sorry. I just hear you talking and can’t help but—”
“Be nosy?”
“I like to classify it as being informed about my current surroundings.”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Knowledge is power,” I argued back and even pulled my arms from the blankets that were restraining them so I was able to sit up higher and lean on my elbows to look him in the eye.
He chuckled. “Ignorance is bliss.”
He wasn’t going to outwit me. I crossed one ankle over the other, and my toe touched the side of his arm. “‘Nothing is more dangerous than sincere ignorance.’”
Just as I was about to shift my legs away from him, I felt one strong hand reach over and rub over my foot. “Really? Martin Luther King Jr?” He smiled big at me.
