Page 62 of My Secret to Protect

Lowering her gaze, she nods. ‘Yeah, I haven’t been a nun either.’ Well, fuck. I hate that. Now I understand that jealousy she mentioned. Pushing up out of my chair, I stand, and her eyes track my movement. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Looking for a pen and paper.’

‘Why?’ She laughs lightly.

‘So, I can take names. I have some eyes to claw out.’

Laughing louder now, Bree reaches out to grab my wrist and stop me from walking away, and the contact feels electric.

‘We should go to bed,’ I say, my voice low as her hand slides from my wrist into my hand and her eyes raise up to meet mine and fuck, I’ve seen that look in her eyes before, and a huge part of me, mostly my dick, wants me to pick her up over my shoulder and carry her to my bed like some caveman, but that can’t happen. ‘Separately,’ I clarify, more for myself than her. ‘Go to our own beds, apart.’

‘Arlo…’ the breathy tone to her voice is a dead giveaway. She wants the caveman act as much as I do.

‘Bree, we’ve been drinking. It’s not a good idea.’ Using the hand still in mine, I pull her up to standing and reach up to push her hair behind her ear, the silky brown strands tickling across the skin of my thumb and finger until I reach the end and step back, breaking all contact. ‘Go to bed, pix.’

She holds my attention for another moment, then nods and heads inside. The click of her bedroom door is a bucket of ice-cold water on the fire that started between us. That shit can’t happen. I need to get it together.

Nobody Is Watching You but Me

Bree

God.Goddam.Whatishappening?

I had just enough self-awareness to walk away when he told me to when all I wanted to do was kneel and beg. It’s the booze, that’s all. The fuzziness in my head confirms that as I drop to sit and then lay back on the mattress. Something changed tonight, something that I wanted to give into, but he was right—as the room spins around me, I know he was right—no good decisions are made with a bellyful of whiskey.

As I hear his bedroom door close, I push myself up, head out to go to the bathroom and get a glass of water, say goodnight to Beans, and then go to bed, hopeful that while the liquor might have led to regrettable decisions, it might also lead to a night of sleep.

Myhopesforanight of rest were pointless. For three hours now, I’ve laid awake tossing and turning and staring at the shadows of the trees moving in the breeze outside as they dance across the back of the thin curtains. The sound of the rain lulled me into sleep when I first lay down, but it was short-lived. I soon woke with the room spinning around me once more, thanks to the alcohol still in my system, and I haven’t been able to get back to sleep since.

The cabin is silent, but for Beans snoring outside my door, and his presence there is comforting. I got up to use the bathroom and get a snack to soak up some of the booze, and he didn’t move. I had to step over him as he just opened one eye to check everything was okay before going back to sleep.

‘Some guard dog you are,’ I said softly, smiling as I kneeled down to kiss his head, getting a couple of slow tail wags in return. ‘Sleep tight, baby.’

Now I’m lying on my bed, frustrated and tired.

We strayed close to the line tonight with talk of monks and nuns, dicks in hands, and jealous eye scratching. The attraction between us was never the problem. It always burned hot, and it still does. He keeps his distance, though. He’s guarded when we’re alone and when he’s no longer putting on a show.

The unmistakable squeak of Arlo’s bed grabs my attention, and I lean over, bringing my ear closer to the wall as the sound stops. He must have turned over and gone back to sleep. I want to hear more, I realize. I want to hear that he’s as unsettled by how close we came tonight as I am. The way he looked at me. God, if he’d have just given in, I’d have let him do whatever he wanted tonight. It’s been so long. I don’t mean with him—that’s been an age, but with everything going on, I haven’t even considered hooking up or even getting myself off. Maybe he was right—maybe that would help. I’m stuck between the rock of wanting Arlo, being so attracted to him that it feels unbearable at times, and the hard place of being tired and too frightened that Nolan is watching me, waiting for me to drop my guard.

That kiss, though, and the way he held my head and positioned me where he wanted me. My god, that kiss has been playing on a loop ever since.

Relinquishing control to Arlo feels good. I push back, but the fact is, he’s calling all the shots right now, and I like that I can let my brain take a break when I’m with him. I want him to call the shots. I want him to kiss me again. I want him to tell me to get on my knees, or into his bed, or wherever the hell he wants me, and oh, fuck, I’m horny. For the first time in I can’t remember how long, I’m really, really horny.

The memory of his hands on my body, the way his ice eyes freeze me in place as they roam over my face and body has my fingertips trailing across my stomach. Can I do this?

He’s asleep, he can’t hear anything when he’s asleep, and, like he said, it could help me to relax. Taking a breath, I consider what I’m about to do and shake my head in the dark room. It must be the gentle remaining buzz of the alcohol lowering my inhibitions. I’m sex-positive and not ashamed of a little masturbation, but with my ex in the next room and a paper-thin wall between us, yeah, this one is on whiskey.

I’m doing it, though. I would have fucked him right there on the deck if he’d given me half a chance, and I know if I don’t get some release and rest soon, my decision-making and judgment is going to get even worse.

Fuck it.

Taking a deep breath and settling back against the mattress I close my eyes and start to push my hand into my shorts. Arousal buzzes under my skin as old memories of Arlo touching me this way once upon a time rush to the surface, but then, without warning, panic hits me, and I snap my eyes open, sitting up and turning my attention to the window.

The curtains are closed, and nothing has changed. I’m alone in my room. Beans is still snoring, but I felt like I was being watched.

Squeezing my eyes tight, I take a couple of deep breaths, then look around the room.

‘He’s not here,’ I say quietly to myself. ‘I’m safe. He’s not here.’

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