Page 37 of Falling in Between
I place my hands on my hips as I make my way to the bottom of the stairs. “I’m not sleeping with you.” At this point, I’m trying to convince myself. Nothim.
He cocks his head to the side as a wrinkle sets between his brows. “There’s more to life than sex, Demi.” He pats the mattress. “Surely you can’t blame me for wanting to sleep next toyou?”
There goes that stupid pitter-patter heartbeat. He’s swoon-worthy. Lies and all. So I can’t blame my feet too much when they carry me up the steps and straight to the foot of hisbed.
“You can borrow a shirt.” He points to the dresser behind me. “Topright.”
Eyeing him suspiciously, I open the drawer and grab the first white undershirt I see. “Thanks,” I say on my way to the bathroom. I don’t miss the smirk on his face when I slip through the door and close it behindme.
A set of halogen lights blink to life over the round mirror, and I find myself standing in a completely white, marble bathroom. After I step out of my dress, I tug his shirt over my head, and although I mostly smell fabric softener, there’s still a hint of that spicy, leather scent that seems to exude from his everypore.
I check my reflection and run my fingers through my hair to try to give it a little volume. I’m so out of my element here. I wasn’t prepared for this; I was supposed to go home. I have no clothes. No toothbrush. Dragging in a breath, I nod at my reflection before opening the door. I can do this. I can totally do—whatever I’m about todo.
The hem to Elijah’s T-shirt hits right at the top of my thigh, and the movement of the soft fabric against my breasts causes my nipples to pucker andharden.
When I walk into the room, he’s no longer looking at the TV; he’s staring at me with his bottom lip gripped between his teeth. That look—God,that look.It makes my skin heat. It’s electrically charged, empowering. And dammit, I want to drown init.
I crawl onto the bed, wondering if I should kiss him or just lie down, but before I have a chance to do either, his hands land on mywaist.
“You know what you’re doing, don’t you?” he says, gently pushing me back on the mattress. “I know youdo.”
He nips at my earlobe while grabbing the bottom of the shirt and pulling tight. He kisses down my neck, slowly trailing his way to my breasts where he hovers. Looking up with hooded eyes, he slowly places his teeth around my nipple, biting me through thefabric.
I hiss in a sharp breath. My back bows. My toes curl. And then he rolls off me. My breathing is ragged. I’m throbbing between my thighs. Again. He literally rolled off me and now has the remote in his hand, flipping channels like he’s bored. Suddenly, he stretches an arm across the pillow, then looks at me before jerking his head at his outstretchedarm.
“What?” Iask.
He pats his barechest.
“You want me to lie on you?” I know I must bescowling.
“Isn’t that what most people do when they sleeptogether?”
I watch for a hint of a smirk, a crinkle by his eyes, but no, he’s serious. “Um…”
Without another word, he sits up, places his arm around me, and drags me against his chest as he falls back onto the bed. “Finger fucking in the stairwell and masturbating on balconies are acceptable, but cuddling isn’t?” heasks.
I don’t even know what to say; cuddling doesn’t seem like a word that should exist in his vocabulary. “Ijust…”
“You’re scared of everything. Bridges. Sex. Cuddling.” He chuckles. “But not Uberdrivers.”
Against my will, I melt into him. Into his warm embrace, his hard chest. He’s well versed at this; it’s obvious, but even with that knowledge, my heart and head are still at war with oneanother.
This feels so right it actually terrifies me. One date. And this feelsright? That’s ridiculous. I must be drunk or overly tired or just…horny. Slowly, cautiously, I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He’s so relaxed, like this is no big deal. As though this is how it should be; us in this bed. Not having sex.Relax, Charlie. It’s no big thing. He’s just holding you like you mean something to him. Holding you like Harold never did. And it feels right, but it’s nothing. Just basic humanaffection.
“Don’t worry, Demi,” he says, still looking straight ahead at the TV. “I promise we’ll keep it casual. Somewhere between strangers andlovers.”
“Okay,” I whisper, not sure whether that weird feeling in my chest is relief, or my heart already breaking just alittle.
