Reluctantly Yours by Erin Hawkins

Author:Erin Hawkins [Hawkins, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Erin Hawkins
Published: 2022-06-01T16:00:00+00:00

Last night I worked on my laptop for as long as I could. I checked to make sure Chloe was asleep before brushing my teeth and climbing into bed with her. It’s a king-size bed, yet somehow during the night we managed to meet in the middle. By morning, strands of her hair were tickling my chest. Her toes were pressed against my shins and I had the strongest urge to pull her close.

Trying to secure this deal with Fred and therefore being forced to be around Chloe this much is giving me the worst case of blue balls. If I had a signed agreement with Voltaire, then I’d gladly accept this punishment. But with no progress made, I’m starting to wonder if I can make this deal happen. After this weekend, the only thing I’ll be closer to is my will power snapping where Chloe is concerned.

I turn to find her softly snoring, blissfully unaware that a raging boner lays only a foot from her.

Fuck. I’ve never been this hard. I slide my hand into my boxer briefs, giving myself a few strokes. Chloe shifts next to me. The gap in the covers reveals where her t-shirt has slid up her front, exposing the smooth, tempting skin of her belly.

I stare at her bare skin and give myself another stroke.

I recall the moment at dinner this week when she laughed after I told her I wanted to eat her. It was not the reaction I had anticipated. How she disappeared from the study the night of the gala after we kissed, when I was moments away from finding out if her arousal matched mine. I can still feel the softness of her thigh under my palm. It’s clear, I’m the only one suffering with the tension between us.

What the hell am I doing? I can’t touch myself here with her sleeping beside me no matter how optimal it is for visual stimulation.

With Chloe still softly snoring, I throw back the covers. Another run, that’s what I need. To rid myself of this pent-up energy. It’s likely the only way I’m going to make it through the weekend. Physical exertion that doesn’t involve touching Chloe.

From his spot on the dog bed, Baxter’s head pops up, the tags around his collar jingling. I grab a pair of shorts and stalk into the bathroom. When I head down the stairs, Baxter follows.

“You want to go?” I ask.

He wags his tail.

“Okay, but here are the rules. We’re running. You have to be able to keep up. No stopping to sniff things every five seconds.”

He lets out a bark, which I believe to be a verbal agreement to our contract. I grab his leash off the bench by the front door and we head out.

Gray clouds hang in the sky and the air is muggy. I take the same path as yesterday, down Main Street, running past the shops and bars. Baxter hangs with me for the first few miles, all floppy tongue and

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