Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
And that simply cannot happen.
Eight
LAILA
Sunshine lights up my dreams.
I take a moment to lie in bed, appreciating the way the sun is slicing through the bedroom this morning. It only lasts a short while before the sun moves on, ever closer to the horizon, but after nearly a week of snow, the sun feels good, especially since I’ll be heading into Oslo, which always looks so much prettier with the sun reflecting off the harbor.
I have a whole day off, and I get to see my grandmother. I’ll stop by Steen & Strøm, the department store, and see if they have any of her favorite cloudberry cake (something she still seems to love), maybe do some shopping for myself, then head on over to her. Afterward I’ll get a bite to eat at a wine bar and drink until my heart feels warm, then come back home.
I sigh in quiet contentment, closing my eyes.
Suddenly James’s headboard knocks against the wall.
My eyes fly open. I take in a deep, shaking breath through my nose, willing myself to calm down, my contentment interrupted.
The headboard knocks again.
What the hell is he doing?
I find myself holding my breath and listening now. Any sense of morning peace has vanished.
Wait…wait a minute…
I close my eyes, as if that will help me hear better.
A moan.
I hear a fucking moan.
And not just any moan. A familiar, low, lust-soaked moan.
Oh my god. Does he have someone over? Did he bring a woman back here last night?
My heart pinches, as if I’m jealous, and I’m trying to think, my brain flipping through the files of last night. No. He couldn’t have. He stayed in, just as I had.
But while I’m distracting myself with this, he’s moaning away in the bedroom next to me. And I’m starting to realize that he’s got no one else in there.
He’s by himself.
Jacking off.
I smile to myself, feeling all sorts of things I shouldn’t be feeling. One is that I’m catching James in the act of something I shouldn’t, so yes, I’m feeling a little naughty. Two is that the sounds are bringing me back. Back to when I used to make him feel that way. He’s always been very vocal, and a dirty talker to boot, and I have to say I sometimes miss the way he let me know how much he enjoyed what I was doing to him.
Three is that James has no idea I’m hearing him right now, so this could be rather embarrassing information for me to wield.
Except…no.
Of course he knows I can hear him right now.
My body reacts, heat pooling between my legs, a tightness in my throat.
I feel a sudden thrill at the knowledge that he’s doing this on purpose, knowing I can hear him, knowing how it affects me. It’s hot, dirty, and wrong, and I can’t help but run my hand down over my shirt, my legs parting slightly.
He whispers good night to me through the wall every night—is this his way of saying good morning? He knows I can hear every heated sound that’s coming out of his mouth, probably hoping to wake me up.
That bastard. And to think I was this close to touching myself and playing along with him, my nipples already tight against my nightshirt, body feeling flushed with heat.
I get out of bed as quietly as I can, silently seething, and know that the only way to play this is to pretend that I hadn’t heard him at all.
I head into the shower and try to forget his asinine attempt…at what, even? Turning me on? Reminding me of what I’m missing? As if I didn’t know. All I had to do was sleep with him once, and then I was a goner, utterly addicted to him.
I know I sound like some obsessed woman who slept with a guy and let her feelings run away from her, immediately wanting more. I know that’s what James thought of me, at one point. But that’s not really in my nature.
Before I worked for the Fairfaxes, I was an au pair and a nanny for a lot of aristocratic and royal-adjacent families around Europe. Back then, my duties were very typical and I always had evenings and weekends off, unless there was a special event. I had all the time in the world to date, but I just…didn’t. Not to say I never went on dates. I did. They just rarely went anywhere. If I was lucky it ended with a one-night stand, but even the guys who were the best in bed weren’t really worth calling the next day. There was no one I wanted to let into my life. No one I wanted to open my heart to. Even friendships were tricky for me as I’m never sure of people’s true intentions. You learn to distrust people as a whole when you’ve been burned before.