Cade got up from the bed without another word, put away his laptop, and disappeared into the closet.
I sat frozen while he changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth. The new glint in his eyes put ideas in my head, like imagining all the different ways he could be making me moan right now.
I’d never thought I’d rue the day I created the Cuddle Code.
Cade returned from the bathroom and climbed into bed in silence. He flicked off the lamp on his side, then settled in to sleep.
I hesitated a long moment before turning off my light, too.
The air in our room felt different than ten minutes ago. Heavier. Charged.
Every rustle of the sheets as I scooted under the covers seemed too loud in the stillness.
We lay together in the quiet for a long time, the only noise Whiskey swatting his new crab toy around the other room.
Long enough that the silence that’d been comfortable not long ago turned suffocating.
When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I turned my head to Cade. He already lay on his side, facing me—eyes closed. I cleared my throat and whispered through suddenly dry lips, “You know, you don’t have to keep your handscompletelyto yourself. Cuddling is still?—”
He hooked an arm over my waist and pulled me against his front before I had time to blink.
Laughing softly, I snuggled into his chest, which was growing more and more familiar each night.
It wasn’t the primal, passionate experience Dr. Lovejoy had promised us. There weren’t any auras weaving or multiple orgasms or beastly roaring, and I didn’t transform into a goddess.
But Cade held me all night long, keeping me warm like my own personal furnace.
And he’d given me his chocolate.
the slippery crab
. . .
Cade
It was tempting to skip breakfast the next morning.
Not just because I’d slept so well and wanted to savor it. But after Lovejoy’s completely unhinged friend had dropped in to give us guys a motivational sex speech, I could only imagine the group discussion the “doctor” would lead us in this morning.
But I didn’t need Harrison snitching to Grandfather that I wasn’t playing nicely. I could survive a postgame sex talk if it meant I got the UK division.
Ellie seemed unconcerned as we walked to the main deck together. She’d spent the walk admiring her new flowy checkered dress from the wardrobe Nate’d had a stylist pull together last minute. She couldn’t stop gushing about it having pockets.
Usually Ellie would be a nervous, itchy mess knowing we were walking into a situation where she’d have to lie, and her sudden confidence unnerved me.
“Lovejoy will have questions about last night,” I warned her, glancing around to make sure no crew were in earshot. The yacht was moving through the water again, having left the island behind, and everyone was busy with their jobs. “You ready to sell this?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Ellie assured me. “As far as they’re all concerned, you blew my mind last night. Why do you think I brought this?”
She held up a beige seat cushion that matched the dining set in our cabin, and I stopped in my tracks.
Ellie walked another couple steps before stopping, too, and she sent me a questioning look.
I stared at her, trying to keep up. “…A cushion?”
“Yeah. Nothing will convince the others I’m sore from a night of wild sex better than carrying around something soft to sit on,” she explained as if this were completely normal. Her brows pulled together. “Do you think I should bring a second one to really sell it?”
At a loss for words, I grabbed the cushion from her and tossed it aside.