SLEEPOVER
JAMES
"I'm ready to go," Bianca said.
About fucking time, I thought. "Good. Let's go tell Stephan."
We approached the slumped form of Stephan. Whatever Bianca had said to him had him in a state. "Bianca is calling it a night," I told him. "I'll see her to her room. What time should I set the alarm for?"
"Five," Bianca and Stephan said.
I nodded goodnight to Stephan, and he nodded back.
Bianca moved to Stephan, kissing him on the forehead. They had another quiet but intense exchange before we took our leave.
I gripped her arm as we left. "Stephan and I spoke at length. He knows I would never take advantage of you when you're impaired. If I didn't know otherwise, I would think he was your older brother. How long have you two been close?"
She gave me a sideways glance, her expression unreadable. "A long time," she said.
I changed the subject, since it was obvious she wasn't in a sharing mood. "You need to get on the pill," I told her. It was a polite order.
She sent me a cute little glare. "My body, my business," she said stiffly.
I felt a little thrill move through me when she said that, because I was going to show her beyond a shadow of a doubt that her body was mine. I would own every inch of it.
"When we're having sex, it will be my business, as well," I told her, trying to sound reasonable. "And you need to get started. It can take weeks to months before it becomes effective."
She glared. "For your information, I'm already on the pill. I have bad periods, and it helps make them milder. I've actually been on them since I was a teenager . . . for personal reasons. But you are outrageous, you know that? I've never agreed to have sex with you."
"What personal reasons?" I asked.
"I prefer to keep those reasons personal." She had the nerve to stick her tongue out at me.
I squeezed her arm, some very vivid images of what I wanted her to do with that tongue flashing through my mind. "You are exasperating."
"Let me bombard you with a bunch of personal questions and see how you like it."
The idea of that strangely wasn't troubling to me. "Give it a try. I think the tradeoff might just be worthwhile for me."
She got very quiet for the rest of the walk. She greeted the girl at the front desk as we walked by. That was it. No doorman. No security to speak of. We just walked right onto the elevator.
I shook my head, appalled.
"The security here is deplorable," I told her.
She giggled. "What did you expect? It's a crew hotel in downtown Manhattan. The security isn't deplorable. It's non-existent."
I stared at her. "It's terrifying. Anyone could come in here."
She just kept giggling. "That's what locks and police are for. If you think this is bad, you should see some of the places Stephan and I have stayed."
I searched her face, a strange feeling of alarm gripping my chest. "Where? What do you mean? Do you still stay in those places?"
She shrugged. "Um, not really. I guess this is our least secure crew hotel at the moment." She burst into another giggling fit. I held out my hand for her key, and she handed it to me.
"I would prefer if you stay at a more secure place when you visit the city. I'll arrange it," I told her.
She shook her head, her smile fading. "No. No. No. I don't know what you think is going on here, but you are not going to take control of my life. You can just rule out that scenario right now."
"We'll talk about it when you're sober."
"You can talk all you want. That is not happening." She sounded so sure of that. I could admit to myself that she scared me. She was about to make my life very difficult.
We stepped into the room, and I couldn't help but notice the open door of an adjoining room. I strode inside. A men's flight attendant uniform hung in the visible closet.
"Stephan's room?" I asked loudly.
"Yes."
I went back into her room, shutting and locking the door behind me.
I watched her flop onto her bed, still fully clothed. "I need to set my alarm," she said.
"I've got it," I told her, moving to her purse.
I plugged her phone in to charge and set her alarm.
"Thank you," she murmured. "You can go now. I'll wake up on time. I've never been late to work. I'm not gonna start the habit tomorrow. As soon as my head stops this spinning, I'll be falling asleep."
I moved to her suitcase, checking for something for her to sleep in. I wasn't sure if I wanted to curse or cheer when I found a tiny, sheer slip of a nightgown. A fucking virgin that looked like a playboy model and wore sexy lingerie to bed. Fuck.
I set it on top of her bag, going into the bathroom. I saw the package marked 'makeup remover wipes' and grabbed one.
I moved back to the bed, perching beside her. I gently wiped her face. Her skin was perfect, and as I wiped it clean, I realized that she barely wore any makeup. She was so lovely. I wanted so badly to kiss her that my hand shook with a fine tremor as I cleaned her eyelashes carefully.
"You hardly wear any makeup. You have a lovely complexion." It was an understatement. She was perfection.
She snorted. "Look who's talking, Mr. Beautiful."
I smiled. "Perhaps I'll just call you Mrs. Beautiful." I kissed just the tip of her nose.
I got up and turned out the lights, then moved to undress her. That was for my benefit as much as hers. I didn't completely trust myself. My reaction to this woman had become too volatile.
She moved her hands to block me as I began to unbutton her shorts. "What are you doing?" she asked. She didn't sound alarmed, which did nothing good for my self-control.
How wrong would be if I just used my mouth on her? I had become obsessed with making her come.
Not tonight, I told myself firmly. She was beyond my reach tonight.
I brushed her hands away, removing her shorts quickly. "Taking care of you," I told her, trying to shake off the images flashing through my mind of me really taking care of her. "I told you and Stephan that I would. I'm getting you ready for bed right now. And if you start throwing up all of that poison you drank tonight, I'll take you to the bathroom and hold your hair out of your face for you. Hold still. I'll have you changed faster if you don't fidget so much."
She submitted, which made my hands shake a little as I quickly stripped her and slipped her into that obscene slip that no virgin should have been wearing to bed.
I put her clothes away carefully, fighting hard for control. I tucked her in carefully.
I looked down at her when I'd finished, at a loss. I couldn't leave her, but I also didn't see how I could stay.
"You can sleep here," she told me in a drowsy voice. "If you can handle the lack of security."
I sucked in a breath. Fuck. I was lost. There was no way I could say no to that.
"Do you mind if I just sleep in my boxers? It's much more comfortable, and I swear I won't try a thing. Tonight."
"Okay," she said softly.
I stripped down to my boxers, wondering if she could see my obvious erection in the shadows. I got on the bed, staying as far from her as I could get. I stared at the ceiling, knowing that I wasn't going to get any rest that night, but I still didn't even consider leaving. She'd told me I could stay, and I couldn't resist, even if it was pure torment.
I could feel her watching me. "Go to sleep," I ordered.
"Are you tan like that everywhere?" she asked sleepily.
I smiled. Her breathing changed almost instantly, becoming deep and even with sleep.
I gave some serious thought to going into the bathroom and jacking myself off. There was no way I was going to rest with my cock so hard that it had taken on a life of its own.
I was a second away from doing just that when she rolled into me. I stiffened, but I could tell from her breathing that she was still sound asleep. I mentally cursed as she nuzzled her face into the side of my chest, her hand moving to rest on my sternum.
Fucking hell. She cuddled in her sleep. I didn't know how I was going to manage, but I didn't think I could bear to leave her touch.
"Stephan," she murmured contentedly.
I processed that. Stephan was gay. He had told me as much. And she had told me that they were purely platonic. I believed them both. Why does she seek him out in her sleep? Were they really so close? A part of me was insanely jealous at the thought that he was that important to her, but I knew instinctively that I couldn't indulge that jealousy. The two of them were too close to tolerate anyone coming between them, and I wouldn't be making that mistake.
She nuzzled against me, throwing a leg over mine. I could feel her sex moving flush with my thigh. I couldn't quite stifle a moan.
"James," she said softly in her sleep. That's more like it, I thought. That one little telling admission made the entire night worth it. I was getting under her skin, as well. It was only fair.
"Mine," I whispered back, closing my eyes. Her hand was on my stomach, and I wondered if I'd be breaking all of my own rules if she just happened to give me a hand-job in her sleep. In my current condition, a few strokes would do it.
I mentally berated myself for even having the thought.
I moved my thigh against her sex, telling myself that I was just getting comfortable.
She gasped softly and pressed harder against me. In my mind, I was burying my face between her legs and lapping at her core like my life depended on it, but I only allowed myself the fantasy. This was a test of my self-control that I was determined to pass.
She stiffened suddenly rolling away to huddle in on herself. Her breathing became ragged, and not with passion.
She's having a nightmare, I thought.
I wrapped myself around her back as she began to shudder. "Shh, love," I told her soothingly.
What I'd called her shocked me enough that I lay thinking about it for a long time. I'd named her love. I'd never said anything like that to a woman before, but I couldn't make myself regret it. It just felt right to call her that.
She relaxed eventually, her breathing evening out into a more peaceful sleep.
"Yes, love," I told her softly. "Rest."
She'll be the only one resting tonight, I thought wryly.
We suffered a few more close calls that night, as she shifted restlessly in her sleep, sometimes plastering her body to mine, other times facing away, curled in a ball.
She pressed herself to me, hand resting on my stomach again, making me hold my breath. Her breath grew ragged, though sleep still held her, and her hand wandered lower.
I put my hand over hers, gently stilling it.
But then she grunted my name in her sleep, and I let her do as she liked.
At the first touch of her fingers to my hard length, I twitched, a spurt of pre-cum spilling from my tip.
I was panting, but she'd said my name, and I needed to hear it again, so I let her sleeping hand explore me, moving until I'd maneuvered a sneaky thigh between hers, letting her ground against me while she tortured me with her touch.