Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Paige?”
I lift my head off the pillow and reply with a groggy, croaky, indecipherable “Yeah?”
Cole releases a steady exhale and walks deeper into the room. He still has his flashlight on, so I can see him there, sopping wet. His shoes squelch against the carpet before he toes them off. Then he sets the flashlight on the dresser and starts to unbutton his shirt. This is a dream. Either that or I’ve found myself in some weird, topsy-turvy world where it’s normal for Cole to undress in front of me.
“How are the generators?” I ask as a way to remind him that I’m still here. He knows he’s taking off his pants while I watch, right?
Should I avert my gaze?
Fat chance.
If I tried to close my eyes right now, they’d pry themselves open. You’re not ruining this moment for us, girl.
He starts answering my question, something about how one of the backup generators did kick on. “The one that covers the kitchens, restaurants, and gym. That area of the resort has had power this whole time . . .”
I’m listening, but I’m also thinking, Hello, Cole’s abs.
Hello, Cole’s boxer briefs.
Hello, Cole’s noticeable bulge.
“. . . it’s only this portion of the hotel that’s been without power. The engineers are working on the issue . . .”
His voice fades out again as he turns toward the dresser and tugs open the top drawer.
His back is so sexy, broad, and muscular. I like the slope that extends from his neck to his shoulders, the defined taper down to his waist. I like that he’s seemingly tan everywhere. Well . . . everywhere I can see.
I ogle his butt like it’s my god-given right.
“They’ve assured us it’ll be up and running again by morning.”
“What time is it now?”
“A little after two a.m.”
Then he turns slowly, giving me a dubious look.
“Where’s my shirt? The one you had earlier?”
Oh, the shirt I’m cradling to my chest like a newborn baby?
“I was cold,” I say, sitting up to hand it to him. “Brr.”
He’s not buying it.
“What did you do to it?” he asks as he leans over the bed to take it like he’s worried I’ll revoke the offer.
“Nothing. I thought it was mine. I have one that’s really similar.”
He stands there, silently interrogating me.
“I was feeling weird, okay?! It’s been a weird day!”
His head tips gently to the side. “So you were hugging my shirt for comfort?”
“I was hugging your shirt for reasons I’m not willing to share.”
He’s too tired to deal with me. He takes the shirt and a new pair of boxer briefs into the bathroom with his flashlight, and then the water cuts on in the shower. And would you look at that? I’m depraved. Almost immediately, all sorts of X-rated images spring to mind. Cole discarding his last bit of clothing and stepping under the shower stream. Cole, lit by candlelight—(Shut up. It’s my fantasy and I’d rather it be a candle than a flashlight. Sue me)—as he sudses himself up with shower gel, running his hands all over his body. He doesn’t forget his biceps, his forearms, his chest and abs. He gets every single inch of himself. It’s in his DNA, after all. He’s so very thorough.
When the water turns off, I scurry onto my side of the bed and roll to face the window. I listen as he dries off with the towel. My imaginings are no less tame now than they were before, so that when he walks out of the bathroom once he’s finished getting ready for bed, my cheeks go bright red as if I have a thought bubble hovering over me, televising every naughty detail.
My eyes are shut like I’m trying to convince him I’m asleep, which is frankly absurd. Cole and I are sharing a bed; it’s not like I’m going to just conk out as if it’s a regular occurrence.
I feel his weight on his side, the bed dipping down as he lies back and fluffs his pillow.
His flashlight clicks off, and we’re back in total darkness.
I’M IN BED WITH COLE CLARK.
And he smells lovely from the shower, all clean and fresh.
I wish I could see him. I wish I could take him in from head to toe. Did he get all the water off with his towel, or is some sluicing down his abs? I could lick it off . . .
GO TO SLEEP.
Go to sleep!
Go. To. Sleep.
I can’t, though. Cole shifts, and I think he’s turned on his side toward me.
I’m shaking like a leaf.
I don’t even have the benefit of blankets to hide beneath. It’s too hot for that.
I’m still wearing my T-shirt and panties. Panties. Ugh, metaphorical facepalm. I didn’t even realize that he saw me like this earlier. I was too preoccupied with him. Oh well, it’s too late now. Besides, he’s seen me in far less and I’ve lived.