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For example, I’m not quick to bed any man, but after his romantic gestures over the last four weeks, I’ve been ready to lie down with Clayton. Only, he never takes things there.
That night all those weeks ago, instead of having sex, he dried me off, carried me into the bedroom and dressed me in a nightgown like I was the most precious thing in the world to him.
That has become a routine. He will undress me to dress me for bed, but it never goes further than that.
I’ve been both blown away and disappointed by the restraint he’s shown in the last four weeks. I see the lust in his eyes, but he’s content with holding me close and falling asleep with me in his arms.
At first, I was grateful to him for this since my mind seemed to be malfunctioning. I needed to get all my lust-filled thoughts and feelings under control. Thinking clearly is necessary.
Yet now, it’s all pissing me off. I go to bed every night with one of the sexiest men I’ve ever met in my life, and he hasn’t made a single move to take our relationship to the next level of intimacy.
If only he could be as determined about getting into my drawers as he is about planning this fake wedding. Clayton has ensured that I cover every single detail for the wedding. You would think we were really going to get married.
I mean, he seems to be attracted to me. His heated kisses say he is. Yet, I’m the most sexually frustrated I’ve ever been in my life.
I’ve even started to work out. After all, I could stand a little toning here and there. Lord knows I need to work off this frustration.
I’ve tried flirting. Which, by the way, I think I totally suck at. I’ve even wiggled my ass on that morning wood a few times in hopes he’d share.
It hasn’t happened yet. I’m starting to think that maybe he has a supplier on the side. Some chick who’s giving him a release, while he keeps me tortured with need in his bed.
“I would have believed that lie an hour ago, before you spent an hour sighing and wiggling in my hold.” He sighs, the exhaustion in his voice clear.
I’m exhausted too from running around looking for a wedding gown. Eileen has had me FaceTime her each time since she hasn’t returned from her trip. She truly is a sweet woman.
I hate that she believes I just haven’t found the right dress, when in truth, I haven’t chosen one because I’ll never wear it. I’m still trying not to waste Clayton’s money, no matter what he says.
Since I still haven’t found a dress, he’s already commissioned a designer to come in and design whatever it is I want. I honestly don’t understand this man at all.
He kisses the top of my head, drawing me in closer to his heat. The erection I feel poking me in the ass has me throbbing. I don’t understand how it can be so clear that he wants me, yet he denies us both—leaving me utterly confused.
“I have a lot on my mind. Things have been…” I pause, thinking of the right words. “Too silent, I guess.”
Clayton groans. “Never, ever say those words,” he releases me, rolling onto his back. “Those words almost always fuck shit up.”
I turn to look at his face. He has a sour pout that’s adorable. Honestly, those words were the first thing to come to mind as a cover. They weren’t my actual thoughts. There’s no way I’m telling this man that I want to fuck him more than I want my next meal.
However, I do have questions now that I have his attention. It’s been a month and though I haven’t been threatened with jail time and my accounts have been released, I have a feeling all of this isn’t over. Clayton hasn’t mentioned much about what’s going on since briefing me the morning after I met his parents. He told me to let him handle it.
I reluctantly gave in at the time and he’s been keeping me so busy with wedding planning I haven’t had time to focus on anything other than the wedding and my book. My website has seemed to double in membership, which probably has something to do with the fact that I’ve been writing my fantasies of the giant lying beside me.
“Are you ever going to tell me who’s after me?” I blurt out.
“Sid,” he groans.
I almost smile. He’s been calling me Sid more and more in the last few weeks. I think we’ve reached a new level of comfort with each other. I’m seeing more and more of his humorous side.
“What?” I huff.
“I’m so fucking tired. Can’t you just lie your ass down on me and help me fall asleep? Stop fidgeting, quiet down your thoughts, and go to sleep. In the morning, I will answer anything you want me to,” he rumbles while rubbing his eyes.
