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He licks his bottom lip, hands twitching at his sides. His eyes stray to my chest, covered by the cotton of my shirt, but that doesn’t stop him from appraising the curves and points shielded beneath the surface.
Every atom in my body is screaming for him to touch me. He swallows hard and his Adam’s apple rolls.
“But that’s irrelevant now,” he finishes. “We just need to get you better.”
He turns ninety-degrees in the doorway and gestures for me to leave the bathroom. When I enter the corridor he walks silently with me until I’m sat upright in the centre of his bed, very dazed and very confused.
He goes to reach for the glass of water when suddenly his gaze catches on something – his top drawer, slightly ajar. His eyes slide over to me, studying me for a moment, until his chest finally heaves and he shoves the drawer shut.
Shit.I swallow and hold my hand out for the glass, trying to distract him from the fact that I just behaved like a truffle pig.
He hands me the water and watches me in silence, the light from downstairs making his shadow eclipse me fully. I’m completely shielded, withMAGNUM Plusprotection. When I finish the glass he takes it from me and returns half a minute later with it refilled. He sets it on the cabinet but his eyes are on mine. We said way too much tonight, feeling untouchable in the darkness.
Finally he says, “Get some sleep, Harper.”
I nod and shuffle backwards on his bed, jolting a little when I feel the wetness from where I’ve been sweating.
His thumb runs back and forth on the top of the dresser and he watches me with a crease on his brow as I tuck myself under his quilt.
He opens his mouth to speak, stops, then starts again.
“About what just happened in the bathroom…” he begins, his other hand scrubbing at the back of his head.
Which part exactly?I want to ask him.The part where I told you I wanted you to have me, the part where you told me you wanted to take me on a date, or the part where I rubbed my ass against your supersized hard-on?
I blink at him innocently.
“It was a heated moment. I shouldn’t have said those things.” He winces and looks away from me, apologetic and ashamed. “I guess maybe you won’t remember any of this in the morning, anyway,” he says quietly.
I give him a small smile even though my heart just dropped like a tonne of bricks.
Trust me, Mitch. I will.
Chapter 10
Mitch
How the hell do people wear pyjamas? I grip at the neckline of my shirt and tug it away from my neck. Then I thinkfuck itand rip the damned thing off.
Harper is upstairs sleeping on my bed and I’m on the rug in the living room because I’m too big for the sofa. I toss the shirt on the floor next to me and then run both hands back through my hair, trying to mentally suppress the muscle that’s thickening in my pants. My body’s a compass and it’s pointing north. I lean back on my palms and look up at the ceiling, aware that Harper is currently directly above me. I swallow hard, imagining how things would be if the situation right now was different – if she wasn’t ill and in need of recovery time, if I hadn’t followed up myI wanna date youconfession with a dumb-assI shouldn’t have said those thingsbacktrack. And – fuck – did she really start grinding that beautiful little ass up against me last night? Thank God I had some restraint, because if the opportunity presented itself to me right now, I’m not sure that I could behave so gentlemanly.
I readjust my shaft as I get to my feet and I make my way over to the kitchen. It’s Saturday but I’m up at half-five regardless, so I flick the coffee maker to life and grab a mug from the cupboard. Then I head over to the dining room table, open up the paper that I found through the letterbox yesterday evening, kick out my legs, and settle back. By the time that it’s seven I’ve read the news cover to cover and I’m just about to get a breakfast going when I hear the bedroom door click open upstairs. A scuttle, followed by the sound of the bathroom door. Then, thirty seconds later, that door’s being gently eased open, like she’s trying not to wake me.
I put the bagel down, not wanting the smell to trigger another episode of sickness, and I move to the bottom of the stairs, watching Harper appear on cautious feet. She peeks hesitantly around the banister.
“Good morning,” I call up to her, jerking my chin at her to signal that she should come down. Then, after seeing how unsteady she looks, I ask, “You need a hand?”
I’m already mounting the stairs when she shakes her head, but I walk backwards with her anyway, keeping just in front of her in case she stumbles.
“Thanks,” she says breathlessly, but she keeps her eyes averted. Her cheeks are flushing pink and she’s twiddling non-stop with her fingers.
I frown, trying to work out what’s wrong. Then I look down at myself and I realise what the problem is. We’re standing about two inches away from each other, I’m shirtless, she’s bottomless, and now all of a sudden she’s flustered as hell. Can’t deny it, that makes my chest swell with pleasure.It’s 7a.m., a beautiful woman’s in my kitchen, and the sight of my naked body is getting her going.
“Sorry,” I manage gruffly. “I’ll grab a shirt–”
She shakes her head adamantly. “Don’t be silly, it’s your home, I’m just… immature around, uh… men like… um, men like…”
My eyebrows raise.Men like me?
