Page 18 of Hidden Gem
Chapter 9
Jason steadied himselfagainst the back wall of the lift, his body heavy with fatigue. He could barely focus his eyes on the beguiling woman with him. What a waste. She was so delicious, someone to be savoured, worshipped. The things he wanted to do to her... if only his body wasn’t run to the ground.
“It’s a gorgeous building,” she said softly.
He met her eyes in the mirror. “It is now.” He could at least flirt back, make her feel special. What he was about to ask her was wrong, weird...
Jason sighed, trying to expel the shame.
They stepped out on the fifth floor and moved to the far end of the carpeted hallway. Jason unlocked his door, revealing a small apartment dominated by a large tidily made bed. Room service had been there, keeping everything sterile and hotel-like.
Jason touched Beatrice’s elbow, guiding her through the doorway, suddenly scared she would run away. “Would you like a drink? A cup of tea?”
She shrugged. “I’m good. So, you want to get some sleep?”
Jason forced himself to look her in the eye. “I’m sorry. This is the worst booty-call ever.”
To his surprise, she blushed. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never really... anyway. Don’t be sorry. You need sleep. If I can help, I will.” She nudged him towards the bed, removing her heels. Her soft but firm tone calmed him further, flooding his veins with overwhelming drowsiness.
He kicked off his shoes and undressed, sliding between the sheets in his underwear. The bed felt heavenly, and a wave of exhaustion ran through his body, reminding him of home, the deep rest he’d once experienced in his cottage with the breeze from the lake blowing through his bedroom window. Beatrice lowered herself on the bed next to him, laying her hand on his hair, stroking it softly. She spoke in a voice too low for him to hear. The old urge stirred at the back of Jason’s mind, his arm reaching for a laptop that was just out of reach. What if his secret was out there, in the depths of the internet? He should have checked, just quickly... But with every stroke of those gentle fingers, the urge dampened, turning into a distant echo. Before long, another wave of sleepiness engulfed him, a blanket of black and blue swallowing his busy mind, forcing him to surrender.
***
JASON OPENED HIS EYESto a faint light peeking through a gap in the curtains. Was it morning? The digital alarm on his nightstand blinked at 6:30 a.m. He’d slept through! He remembered waking a couple of times with his heart pounding and listening to Beatrice’s breathing. But it hadn’t lasted long. Her presence must have lulled him back to sleep. His head felt groggy and disoriented, which he recognised as the sign of true rest after a period of insomnia. For the first time in weeks, he felt functional, with fresh energy brewing under the surface. What absolute magic. If he shut his eyes, he could drift off again, catch a couple more hours. It felt unreal, like someone had saved him.
Beatrice.
He turned around and caught the tangle of chestnut curls on the pillow, her hand resting next to it, her peaceful, sleeping face peeking through the gap. He watched her curves, her shoulder rising and falling with her breathing. That dress she’d worn last night. He’d dreamed about it. In his dream, he’d made love to this woman, over and over again. He’d been the man he was supposed to be, full of life and energy.
Jason pulled on the sheet, hoping to catch a glimpse of her dress and her cleavage. But Beatrice wasn’t wearing the dress. Her full breasts rested against her curled-up arm, dark nipples staring at him, cherries on white icing. Unable to help himself, Jason pulled the sheet a little lower and caught a glimpse of her underwear. Thank goodness. It was too early in the morning to spontaneously self-combust from excitement. He lay in silence, staring at her soft, smooth curves sinking into the mattress. Okay. He was officially not responsible for his bodily reactions. Actions, yes. But his hard-on was an uncontrollable fact of life. She’d magicked him into sleeping all night and woken his libido, like jumpstarting a car. A sorceress. Or an angel sent from heaven. Either way, he couldn’t allow her to leave. He needed her like he needed air to breathe.
Beatrice shifted. Maybe she could feel his hungry gaze burning her skin. Jason pulled the sheet up a little, hoping she wasn’t too cold.
He should let her sleep, but before he closed his eyes, she cracked hers, staring at him in confusion.
“Sorry I woke you,” he whispered.
She seemed to take a moment to get her bearings. Then her face morphed into the most adorable, hopeful smile, eyes wrinkling in the corners. “Did you sleep?”
“I slept,” Jason croaked. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.”
“What time is it?”
“Only six-thirty.”
“Do you want to sleep some more?”
“I do. But...” Heat rose up his chest, burning his neck. “I was looking at you. You’re... you’re gorgeous. Sorry. Go back to sleep.”
Her cheeks reddened as she pulled the sheet up to her chin. “I... I didn’t have any pyjamas and couldn’t risk sleeping in that fancy dress. I want to be able to sell it later.”
He grinned. “I really don’t mind. But do you want to borrow a T-shirt?”
“Yes, please.”
