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But I’m not even going to hint at it. I know Olivia didn’t bargain on sharing a hotel room with me, and she sure as hell didn’t bargain on sharing a bed with me. I may enjoy teasing her a little bit from time to time—okay, maybe that’s an understatement—but the last thing I want is to make her actually feel uncomfortable.
Fuck, she looked good tonight.
I mean, I knew she would. She always looks good. Knowing she’d be wearing a nice dress, I fully expected her to look so good that my heart would skip three or four beats.
But I didn’t expect her to look that good.
Shit, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when she stepped out of the elevator into the lobby where I was waiting for her.
The way that dress tastefully outlined her figure, hugging the curve of her hip not too tight but just enough to make my blood pump extra hard …
I blow out a breath, shaking my head just thinking about it. My cock thickens in my tuxedo pants.
The water from the sink faucet is still running in the bathroom, so I palm the outline of my length through my pants.
Fuck. Probably not a good idea. Now I’m even harder, the tip of my cock tingling and begging for release. Well, I’m not going to get it tonight.
I pull my hand back and try to think about something else. But it seems like right now my brain can only concentrate on one of two things: how sexy Olivia looked tonight, making my cock unbearably hard; or how much my back hurts, making me dread the fact that I’m going to have to lie on the floor pretty soon.
Still, it was worth coming. I had a great fucking time with Olivia eating Pretzel M&M’s and drinking champagne on the patio. We were out there for almost an hour, just talking about whatever. It feels like we’ve finally moved past her being angry at me.
That was the whole point of this. Having an extra achy back tomorrow is a small price to pay.
I heave myself up into a seated position on the edge of the mattress. I can’t keep tempting myself with comforts I’m not going to have tonight.
With a groan, I stand up and finally get out of this tuxedo. I strip down to my white undershirt and green boxer-briefs. Peeking under the bed, I find an extra comforter in a plastic zip-up bag. At least that’ll make the floor somewhat less unpleasant.
I turn around when I hear the bathroom door open—and my heart slams against my chest.
Olivia’s standing there, wearing an oversized blue t-shirt. The hem of her shirt drops lower than the shorts I’m sure she’s wearing, making her smooth, bare legs look so fucking alluring that my abs clench rock-hard.
I stifle a groan as my gaze rakes down those shapely legs and ends at her bare feet. Shit. She looks so good like this, wearing what she’d be wearing any given school night around her house, that it literally hurts. I’m fucking aching looking at her.
Her face is unadorned, and as drop-dead gorgeous as her lips were with the red lipstick she had on for the gala, the vivid pale pink of their natural shade makes my chest pang with even more intensity. Her hair is tied in a ponytail, and it rests over her shoulder, swooping in front of her as she toys with it.
I bend down and gather up the new comforter at my feet, realizing I need something to cover my growing bulge immediately.
“Look!” I say, holding up the blanket so it drapes in front of me. “Found an extra blanket.” I fix a stupid smile to my face, hoping she’ll think I’m just inordinately excited about a fluffy white comforter instead of desperate to have a shield to hide the outline of my hard dick in my boxers.
“Oh. Uh. Cool?” Olivia replies.
I nod. “Cool. Very cool.” I settle down on the floor, draping the blanket over me. “Just toss me a pillow,” I say, nodding towards the two of them on the bed.
Olivia’s mouth scrunches up. “I think I should sleep on the floor. You take the bed.”
My lips flatten. “No.”
“Really,” she continues, trying to make it sound like no big deal. She walks to the bed to pick up a pillow, but she doesn’t hand it to me. Instead, she holds it in front of her, standing at my feet. “I’ll take the floor.”
I reach up and snatch the pillow from her. “Like hell you will.” My voice is growly at the thought of it. I fluff the pillow and then place it on the floor behind me, ready to lay my head on it.
“You can’t sleep on the floor, Tuck,” she says, her voice tight, like she’s annoyed at my stubbornness. “Your back’s killing you.”
“Let a lady sleep on the floor while I take the bed?” I scoff. “Not while I’m above ground. I don’t know how the boys you grew up with did things, but my momma raised me right.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” she protests.
“Night, Olivia. Enjoy the bed. I know I’m going to enjoy this nice, firm floor.” When I lie back, I groan in pain as a muscle in my back pinches.
