Wish on You by Amelia Wilde

Author:Amelia Wilde [Wilde, Amelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-09T16:00:00+00:00

11

Asher

For a few moments, as I swim back up into consciousness from a sleep so deep I feel like I’ve been at the bottom of Ruby Bay, I think I’m back in Montana.

The sheets remind me of the Marriott, with that particular hotel clean, and I bury my face into the pillow. I’m used to hotels. I live in hotels. I’ve been living in hotels for days and weeks and years, and a hotel room is always a clean slate. Thank god, everything is a clean slate.

But then I open my eyes.

It’s not the Marriott after all. It’s Bliss.

I close them again and stretch out my legs under the covers. At least the bed feels like somewhere I belong, only…

There’s someone else in it.

Everly.

Her breathing is slow and steady, and it comes back to me in a cascade of images—fucking her up against the hotel room door, so desperate to be inside of her that I couldn’t take her to the bed like a gentleman. Fucking her on the bed, only to discover that I didn’t feel more gentlemanly when she was spread out on the coverlet, begging me for more. I only felt gentlemanly when I pulled up the covers over her naked body after she fell asleep.

My cock jolts to life.

Her naked body is still under those covers next to me, as far as I know. She could have gotten up in the night and put her dress back on, I suppose, but who in their right mind would do that?

I turn over carefully and prop my head on my elbow.

We never closed the curtains last night. I thought about it, but then Everly pulled me back into the bed. “Leave them open. No one can see.” She sounded like she didn’t quite believe it. Like maybe it turned her on to think that someone might see.

Breaking the rules is so deliciously wrong. Not that anyone looking in would know we were breaking any rules at all. But that doesn’t matter—not to my core, which pulls toward her with a vicious possessiveness that’s completely forbidden.

Sex was one thing.

This is different.

I rub at my eyes to see if it’s only the vestiges of sleep that’s making me feel this way, but the need still pulses at the center of my chest, right along with my heartbeat.

The need to be near her.

The need to be with her.

Oh, shit.

The sunlight from the open curtains plays gently across her skin, across the curves of her body underneath the sheet. Her hair is a shining spill across the pillow. She could be in a movie—that’s how perfectly it’s arranged itself, as if her post-sex hairdo was the product of several professionals.

I risk it—putting a hand on her hip to feel the rise and fall of her breath.

God, it’s torture.

I remember the way she looked with her head bent over that highball glass in the bar. Something in her called to me then. I thought it was something simple—lust, or attraction, whatever you want to call it.

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