Yet here we were, after a kiss that hadn’t felt fake or like he was checking something off the list of things to do for his job.
I swallowed, my gaze drifting to the bathroom door.
Part of me, the part that had been brave enough to make the first move, wanted to go in there to continue that, um,physical conversation, but would he be doing it because he was being paid to? Or because he wanted to?
Grabbing a pillow, I buried my face in it and let out a muffled groan, because this was getting out of hand. It was one kiss. One kiss that had completely wrecked me, but still. Just a kiss.
I’d hired Beckett, which meant I was seriously taking advantage of this situation, right? Unless he wanted it too?
But then, what if he said no?
What if, what if, what if.
I threw the pillow across the room in frustration. Trying to figure out the line between what was real and not real and whether I was crossing it was going to give me an aneurysm.
This was temporary. One week. That was it, and I needed to remember that.
Beckett was here because I’d asked him to be, because I needed a buffer, a distraction, and a safety net to get through this week without completely falling apart. He’d done all that and more, and dwelling on his tongue in my mouth wasn’t going to help anything.
I dragged a hand down my chest, exhaling slowly, trying to calm the restless, buzzing energy under my skin that refused to settle.
Okay, so hypothetically speaking, what if hewasinto it?
I liked that line of thinking a hell of a lot better. It was just that I’d only kissed him in the first place because of the way it felt like something had shifted between us. Something real cracked open, we’d had an emotional connection, and then I’d followed through by making it a physical one…
I swallowed hard, my fingers curling slightly against the sheets. Beneath the lounge pants I’d thrown on my dick was stirring again, clearly wanting more than the quick jerk I’d given it in the shower.
Going still, I listened for the sound of running water. Then, with Beckett still occupied, my hand crept beneath the band of my pants. I ran my palm down over my briefs, cupping my growing erection, and closed my eyes, sinking into the sensation and letting my mind run away with images of Beckett. The way he’d looked in those short black swim trunks, his toned thighs caging me in…
My breath hitched as I slipped my fingers past the waist of my briefs, where the head of my cock was already wet with arousal. I coated my palm and grabbed hold of my dick, giving long, lazy strokes, imagining that it was Beckett’s hand instead.Those magic hands…giving me a full-body massage…
Oh yeah, that was doing it for me. My hips arched up into my hand as I pictured Beckett’s strong fingers gripping my ass to hold me tighter before sliding down between my cheeks. Spreading me and then pressing his finger?—
The water shut off suddenly and my eyes flew open.
No. Oh no, no, no.
Panic hit sharp and fast, snapping everything back into reality, which meant he was about to walk out and see me getting myself off on the bed.
Shit, shit, shit.
I yanked back the covers and pulled them over me, turning on my side so my back was to the bathroom.
This was fine. Totally fine. I’d just pretend to be napping and he’d never see my erection or be any wiser about where my thoughts had gone.
My eyes caught on the pillow I’d thrown across the room, where it had landed at the entrance of the kitchen.
Too late to grab it now.
I heard the door open and quickly shut my eyes, forcing my breathing to even out like I wasn’t in the middle of a full-blown internal crisis.
Breathe slower. You’re asleep.
My heart’s hammering would probably give me away if he got too close. I strained to hear what was happening even as I fake slept, and that was when I heard it. Footsteps. Coming closer.
I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe wrong. Didn’t do anything that might give me away.
You are a chickenshit, Sawyer.