Page 17 of Beautifully Wild

Michael laughs. “I’ll ask you again at the end of the night.”

11

Samuel

ThelasttimeSamuelchecked his cell, it was close to midnight.

Laughter echoed behind his door with tipsy guests bumping the hallway walls heading back to their suites.

He rolls over, stares at the window, and groans. At this rate, he’ll get no sleep. It’s not the noisy guests he blames. His thoughts are relentless of Eden and what could’ve been. Ecstasy for one night could open the gates of desire. More of what he can’t have. He’d forgotten the buzz of lust and attraction and the thrill of pleasure hormones circulating and fulfilling certain areas. Now he’s suffering and unable to sleep, wanting a release.

He reminds himself of the promise he made years ago—not to get involved with a woman while he was committed to the Ularan people. It’s not their way to divulge in casual relationships, and he’s now one ofthem.

A bang on his door has him listening for revelers. Another, and he realizes it’s no mistake. He jumps up, pulls on shorts, and steps closer to the door.

“Samuel. Open the door.”

His heartbeat soars at the sound of her voice.

The knocking grows louder.

“It’s Eden.”

He flicks on the light before opening the door. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” She strides past Samuel before he has a chance to object. He catches the sweet aroma of wine on her breath. “Michael and Yasmine are getting it on in my room. I’m not into watching. And Amy has hooked up with Harrison, and Sean with Bree. So, it leaves you. I know you’re not into me, but I need a place to sleep.”

A better idea would be to pay for another room for her to sleep because he won’t get any rest with her so close. He locks the door. Her hips sway beneath the white gown as she moves toward his bed. She looks even more beautiful than she did a few hours before.

Eden unzips her dress. He struggles to breathe, yet he can’t look away. He should tell her to leave. Tell her she’s right, and he’s not interested. Only it would be a lie.

“Stop,” he hisses.

“You can’t expect me to sleep in this.” The dress loosens and slides over her curves to pool around her feet. She pauses and looks longingly at him. He holds her gaze, and yet he sees all of her. His peripheral vision is outstanding—rounded breasts bounce freely, and the skin-colored flimsy piece of material on her hips barely covers anything.

His chest expands in a greater need of air. He’s aware of other parts of him expanding too.

He retrieves a t-shirt from his case and hands it to her. “You’ll be more comfortable in this.”

There’s a glimmer of sadness in her eyes.

He slides under the sheet to hide his attraction. “There’s toothpaste in the bathroom if you need it.”

Under the safety of Egyptian cotton, he watches her bare rear as she pads to the bathroom. Hell, she’s truly perfect.

“Hinting about the toothpaste…” she calls out from the bathroom, “… could mean you want to do something,” she mumbles with the toothbrush in her mouth.

He sits up, but she’s out of his sight. “Are you using my toothbrush?”

“Is it the little white one in a pack?” she says with a mouthful.

“No.” He flops back onto the bed, remembering his is in a bag, and the complimentary brush remained next to the basin. The back of his wrist rests against his forehead, and it does nothing to ease the sexual thoughts tormenting him.

“Stop avoiding my question.” She gargles water. “Are you intending to kiss me?”

“Being a gentleman and providing you a place to crash, and then offering for you to freshen up isn’t an invitation to hook up,” he mumbles, even if it’s what he craves. He inhales a breath, and all he smells is the sweetness of Eden, and the scent is enough to send his thoughts into overdrive.

Moments later, she clambers in beside him. “What is it about me guys don’t like?” she whispers.

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