Page 148 of Things I Wish I Said
“We’re here already?” she asks, rubbing her tired eyes.
A soft chuckle vibrates in the back of my throat. “Yeah, sleepyhead, we’re here.”
“Sorry.” She offers me a sheepish smile I want to erase.
“It was a long day. Don’t be sorry.” I squeeze her hand before helping her out of the car, then head up to our room where I hop in the shower while she finds a movie for us.
I hurry, scrubbing up and washing away the sweat and sand before I brush my teeth and let her use the bathroom. I scrollthrough my phone to pass the time, completely unaware when the bathroom door opens, until I hear a throat clear.
“Hey, did you decide on a . . .” My words trail off as I glance up at her in nothing but a bath towel.
Droplets of water cling to her skin, sliding to the hollow of her neck where she grips the towel just above her breasts. Her face is free of makeup, her skin glowing from the hot water, cheeks pink. She’s every bit as gorgeous as she was before she showered it all off, maybe more.
My gaze settles on her wig, wondering why she’s still wearing it considering every other night she wore only a silk scarf.
I swallow over the butterflies wreaking havoc in my chest as I meet her glittering gaze. The hand holding the towel together at her breasts drops and it unravels.
The air rushes from my lungs. Lust and longing hit me every bit as hard as a sucker punch—demanding and insistent and stealing my breath.
I try and keep my gaze from wandering farther south, but it’s a battle I quickly lose. I drink in her smooth skin, the soft curve of her hips, and the full swell of her breasts.
She’s fucking perfect, everything about her.
An involuntary groan leaves my lips as I snap my eyes closed, willing my hormones to settle the fuck down when I feel the bed dip beside me.
My breathing turns shallow as I risk a peek just as Ryleigh straddles me.
The ferocious pounding of my heart increases with the rapid pace of my breath. “Sinclair, wh-what are you doing?”
She trails her hands down my chest, sliding beneath my T-shirt, nails raking over my abs, my pecs.
I hiss, biting back a curse.
“What does it look like?” she whispers.
A sly grin slides over her features, and it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to press her into the mattress. “Do you always sleep in so much clothing?” she asks, eyeing my T-shirt and shorts.
I shake my head. I can’t talk for fear of what might come out of my mouth. Because this is Sinclair. As strong as she is, she’s still vulnerable.
And I’m almost certain she’s a virgin, and I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to take her first time on a whim unless I know it means something to her because it sure as hell would mean something to me.
“Take it off,” she commands, lifting the hem of my shirt.
I hesitate, then grab the neck at the back of my head and pull it off in one sharp, clean movement.
She hums in approval, her eyes brightening like molten bronze, raking over me as her fingers slide over the grooves of muscle, shifting to the inside of my bicep where she traces my tattoo.
My hands grip her hips, trying to restrain her movement, but all it does is turn me on more.
“Are you going to touch me or what?” she whispers, sliding her mouth to my neck.
“Maybe we should slow down and talk?” I croak, my dick jerking in protest.
My heart applauds my restraint while my body demands attention.
Ryleigh chuckles darkly. “Your friend, here, says it would like to do more than talk.” She bucks her hips while I bite back another groan. “And you didn’t have a problem feeling me up on the Ferris wheel.”
“You weren’t naked on the Ferris wheel.”
