Page 44 of Gilt

Why would I bring that up? Probably because I’m half-naked in my bedroom with him. “I, um, have a checklist before I’ll have sex with a guy.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he runs his hand through his hair. “Duchess, are you a virgin?”

“No.” Heat burns my cheeks, and I pray he doesn’t ask any more questions. “But, honestly, I made a huge mistake, and I don’t want another one on my record.”

“Will you tell me what’s on the checklist?” He grins widely.

“Absolutely not! You aren’t gaming this system.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he promises. He drops onto my bed, grinning wildly and putting his upper torso on display. Instinct takes over, and I crawl in next to him. Slowly he guides me to my side and slides his arm under my waist. My body molds to his effortlessly. “What did you want to ask?”

But he doesn’t answer. Instead, his nose and lips skim along the back of my neck before he settles his mouth on my shoulder. The heat of his breath on my bare skin sends tingling emissaries of anticipation running through my body. “I wanted to know what you were dreaming about,” he murmurs, “but you weren’t sleeping.”

“I was thinking,” I say shyly.

“That’s dangerous when you’re trying to fall asleep.” Anguish coats his words, and I struggle in his grasp until I flip over to face him.

“Why aren’t you asleep in your own bed?” I ask.

“Yours is more comfortable. I like this body pillow.” He presses closer to me until I can feel every rock-hard inch of him. Jameson wants me—his body betrays that much. I can feel the proof of it pressing into my hip.

I imagine what it would be like to let him slip between my legs. I’m not sure if it would help me sleep or keep me wide awake. Although something tells me that getting Jameson naked would make the night pass far too quickly.

But wanting him doesn’t explain why he’s here now. If it’s company he’s looking for, there’s no end of women willing to help him out. He had come to me.

“And?” I press him. I refuse to be distracted by him.

“Nightmares.” He leaves it at that.

I don’t need him to tell me about nightmares. I know all too well how often the worst moments of your life revisit you in your dreams. “Sometimes I have nightmares about Becca,” I confess to him instead. “It’s like it’s happening all over again, and I can’t wake up.”

“You were there that night.” It’s a statement, not a question, as if this is only now dawning on him. Wherever he’d gotten his information, it didn’t include that little detail. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“There’s no use apologizing for life or tragedy. Both are inevitable.”

Our foreheads press together, and my breath falls into sync with his.

“Maybe we’re doing this wrong,” he suggests.

“What?” I say in a sleepy voice.

“Strength in numbers, Duchess. I don’t think I could have a nightmare with you in my arms.”

“Then stay,” I offer in a small voice before giving him my lips to convince him.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I can’t believe you’re Jameson West’s girlfriend,” Josie says as she sifts through the pile of clothes strewn across my bed. “I’ve been doing some research on him, and you’re totally going to wind up on the cover of People Magazine.”

“Or US Weekly, and I’m not his girlfriend,” I grumble. “Is my navy dress over there?” The police department should consider hiring Josie to be an interrogator. Despite making Jameson promise to keep the status of our relationship a secret, I spilled to her in less than two minutes. “No one’s supposed to know, remember?”

“It’s my secret.” She pretends to draw a zipper over her lips. “Why is it a secret again?”

“Because my dad will have an aneurism if he finds out we’re hanging out.”

“Hanging out? Dating? Which is it, sister?” Josie demands.

“I don’t know,” I finally admit. Plopping onto my bed, I consider the question. It feels like my answer should be obvious. “I don’t think I’m ready to be his girlfriend.”