Page 30 of Had To Be You

Eventually I pull out, tie the condom and wrap it in a tissue beside my bed. I turn her so that her back is against my chest and nestle in behind her, pressing my lips to her shoulder. Our breathing slows.

“Stay the night with me, Ellie.”

She says yes.

So I pull her closer into my chest.

Lying in bed with her, I’m left to wonder how it’s possible to feel this way after just a couple of days with her. We lay sleepy and sated, tangled in each other’s arms, when it occurs to me that she’s the first woman I’ve ever shared my bed with. The first woman I’ve ever wanted to stay.

Maybe, just maybe, Ellie Reeves is the girl for me.

Chapter Thirteen

Ellie

These sheets must be 600 thread count. Or maybe 800. Is there such a thing as 2,000? I’m going with that. I assume these are the kind of sheets the queen sleeps on, they’re that incredible. It also helps that the rich scent of coffee is floating through the air.

I woke up in Liam’s bed, the morning sun casting a ray across the lush down comforter. The mattress is so heavenly it feels like I’m floating on clouds. My attention drifts to his dresser and my clothes from last night, the ones I remember stripping to the floor. They are folded neatly, piled on top of each other in a stack. It’s so Liam. Not only a control freak but apparently a neat freak too.

The bed feels a lot bigger because Liam is not nestled in beside me. But I can hear him downstairs, making breakfast. I sit up, pulling the silky cotton sheet over my bare chest, and consider following the delicious, rich aroma, but think twice, not totally sure how to navigate this situation. Instead, I slip into Liam’s en suite bathroom and after dealing with the morning necessities I hunt around for some toothpaste. After a quick rinse with mouth wash, I check my phone then fall back into the bed, draping my arm across my eyes and remember last night.

It was pure frickin’ magic. My stomach flip-flops just thinking about it. It was the best sex of my life; back-arching, sheet-gripping sex that I never knew existed. He’s ruined me for all others.

The way he kissed me, consuming and carnal. The way his hands gripped my flesh, so possessive and sexy. The way he took complete control of my body, knowing exactly what I needed. Then, to top it all off, we fell asleep naked in each other’s arms, our arms and legs tangled up in each other, his big, strong body cuddling me into sleep. Like I said before… it was pure frickin’ magic.

There’s nothing about last night that feels one-night-standish. Everything about it feels like a heck of a lot more. I am so tempted to let myself believe that the off-the-charts chemistry I feel with Liam is real, but I have to remind myself that I can’t get lost in it all. I’ve known from the start I don’t belong in Liam’s world. If ever two people were opposites, it’s the two of us. Besides, this is not what either of us do, and I need to remember that. We needed to get it out of our systems, and now we have. One night, and one night only, of giving into temptation. Nothing more.

But why does he have to have such a great dick?

“Good morning,” Liam says, appearing in the doorway with a lazy smile on his gorgeous face. He’s bare-chested, rocking sex-tousled hair. He’s wearing only a pair of thin black joggers slung low on his hips, revealing that V of muscle that I’ve decided is my favorite part of Liam’s body. Or maybe it’s the corded muscles of his arms? Nope, has to be his abs and that faint trail of hair that leads to my other favorite body part. This man is a work of art.

With two cups of coffee in his hands, he pads to my side of the bed. I try to read him. Is he feeling weird after what happened last night? Is he regretting asking me to stay the night with him? I need to say something funny, defuse the situation, but I can’t focus. His gray eyes are on me, but I can’t read what’s in them.

“Morning,” I manage to say, suddenly struggling from a severe case of I-forgot-how-to-form-a-fucking-sentence.

“I made you coffee,” he says, offering me one of the white mugs in his hand.

“Thank you.” I smile, sitting up in bed and pulling the crisp, white sheet over my chest, suddenly feeling very naked. Does he iron these things? He probably pays someone to do it for him. I can’t remember the last time I ironed my dress pants, never mind bedsheets. I wrap my hands around the warm mug. “A smart move considering I can be an evil villain without my morning cuppa.”

He laughs while I get to thinking of how I’m going to pull off my exit plan. I cringe, realizing I will be committing the ultimate walk of shame in my cocktail dress and four-inch heels. Olivia would have a field day with this. What a total nightmare!

Shaking that image aside, I ask, “What time is it? It feels really early, which I guess is a good thing considering we both need to get to work.”

“It’s six thirty. You have plenty of time. My body is just wired to get up at sunrise. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I made you breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he says, reaching for the loose strands of hair that have fallen over my face, pushing them back with the tips of his fingers. I think on that for a second, then take a sip of my coffee.

“Thank you.”

An awkward silence descends on us, which is thankfully interrupted by Liam’s cell phone vibrating on the nightstand. He moves around to his side of the bed, sets his coffee mug down and picks up his phone. Crawling back under the covers, he checks his message.

“This damn wedding group chat. How do people deal with these? Every time I look at it, I have 500 missed messages. Who has time for this?” He absently pushes his hand through his hair, his bicep flexing with the motion. My mouth literally waters. I might be drooling.

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