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When she shuts the door behind her, I sit on the edge of the bed and run a hand over the clothes.
I unfold the pants and put them on, pulling the drawstring tight. Then, I slip on the t-shirt. Another band tee. Again, I’m surprised that a man like Dion would have clothes this casual when he looked so good in a suit last night. Like suits were made especially for him.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee hits me, so I let my nose lead me down to the kitchen.
Dion is at the counter, making himself a shot of espresso that he pounds back like a shooter.
My heart quickens. His hair is tousled, and a fine sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, highlighting the sharp angles of his face.
“Rough night?” I call out, my voice getting caught in my throat.
He turns around, his smile beaming as he takes me in. I try to act nonchalant despite the butterflies fluttering in my stomach under his gaze.
“Something like that. A certain someone kept me up all night,” he says, wiggling his brows.
I laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, I feel like I got hit by a freight train.”
“Not used to staying up late, huh, sleepyhead?” he asks, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “I just got back from a run.”
He takes a large swig, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps down the water, finding it increasingly difficult to focus on our conversation. I’m clearly not well.
My gaze wanders to the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the beads of sweat trickling down his neck. I shake my head.
“Not really, and I think I’m hungover,” I say, rubbing my temples. Suddenly, I feel a headache creeping in.
“Here, drink this.” Dion grabs another bottle from the fridge, sliding it across the counter to me.
“Thank you.”
After downing half of the contents, I look around the space awkwardly. “I should get going.” I need to get out of here.
Dion’s gaze bores into me like he’s trying to figure me out. A flush spreads across my cheeks, and my heart beats faster. Does he feel this too?
I thought I’d be able to sleep off this insane attraction I have for him, but after a couple hours of sleep, a shower, and even a self-induced orgasm, I still feel everything we did last night. I swallow hard, trying to seem normal. Deep down, I’m freaking out.
“I’ll take you home. I have to go into the city, anyway. You’re on my way.”
“How do you know where I live?” I ask, surprised.
Dion laughs. “I know everything, astéri mou,” he says, walking out of the kitchen. “Grab something to eat before we leave. I’ll ask Helen to make you a coffee to go. Meet me out front in thirty minutes.”
In a daze, I stay in place. Is it possible to have a reaction this visceral to someone you just met?
I spot a plate of baked goods on the breakfast nook, so I grab a muffin and small pastry, taking bites of each as I head back upstairs to get my stuff.
I didn’t get the chance to explore the second floor yesterday, so when I pass the room right next to mine, I’m surprised to find Dion inside. He’s now shirtless, every muscle of his back glistening from the sweat.
He was only a wall away when I was in the shower, touching myself to the thought of him. Now, I’m truly mortified.
I hide by the slight opening of his bedroom door and watch him through the narrow gap as he drops his shorts, then briefs, exposing his round ass. My breath hitches in my chest. He is beautiful. Built like a Greek God, every muscle defined and sculpted to perfection. His strong back is broad and powerful. His tanned skin glows, sun-kissed, highlighting every contour and dip of his body. Covering his entire back is a striking Phoenix tattoo, its intricate details making it seem almost alive.
I gulp to moisten my throat.
He stops moving. Shit. I freeze for a few seconds, my heart skipping a beat.
Holding my breath, I quickly step away from the door as quietly as possible. Relief washes over me when I hear the shower start in his bathroom. That was close.
Letting out a breath of relief, I continue to the guest room, grab my things and head back downstairs to where Helen is now in the kitchen, preparing a travel mug of coffee.
