Filthy English
Heavy eyes fluttered, squinting open. “Remi?”
“Who else would it be?” I plopped down on the carpeted floor next to him. “The question is, what are you doing outside my hotel room?”
Bloodshot, tired eyes roved over my face and landed on my lips. “After you left, I got this weird feeling. Paranoid that Chad knew where your hotel was or that he’d gotten your full name. I called you but you didn’t pick up, so I came over to make sure you were okay. I tipped the porter to give me your room number.”
“My phone was on silent since we talked to the police. I just now turned it on. Sorry.”
“Where’ve you been?” he asked, coming more awake and scratching at his unshaven jaw.
“We walked from the Tower of London. Guess I was too hyped up from everything.”
His eyes narrowed. “You should have come straight back.”
I arched a brow. Smiled. “Since when do you keep tabs on me?”
He let out an exasperated sigh, stood, and put out a hand to heave me up. “Maybe I’ve decided you need a bodyguard 24/7 just to keep you safe.”
“You applying?” We faced each other inches apart.
“You don’t want me to fill that position. We both know it.” He blew out a breath. “Come on, get your key out and let’s get you inside.”
I found my key, slid it through the slot and opened the door. Dax stepped inside in front of me and held the door open as I came through.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Give me a sec,” he said. “I want to check the room.”
What? I was fine.
No one was in my room but him, and he was the one I didn’t need to be alone with.
He stalked around the space, checking the bathroom, under the bed, inside the closet, and even outside the window to the small iron balcony.
“Only a ninja can scale that,” I said, watching him in bemusement.
“Looks clear,” he said, stumbling over his feet as he walked toward me.
“Dax. You’re exhausted. Please, sit down.” I pointed at a chair. “Why don’t I get some coffee sent up for you before you head back?”
“No, that’s okay. I didn’t drive. I took a cab right after you.”
“Well, I’m pooped.” I set my clutch down, kicked my shoes off, plodded over to the bed and fell backward right in the center of the plush duvet. Rose petals the maid had placed there flew in the air.
I lifted my arms above my head and stretched. My eyes closed. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad to be in this big bed tonight even if it is without getting laid. Although the night is still young.” I giggled, opening my eyes and winking at him.
I meant it as a joke, of course, but his face darkened and I immediately stiffened.
The room stilled, filling with tension.
I sat up and pulled my shirt down.
His eyes landed on my lips. Bounced away. Came back.
He raked his hand through his hair and it fell back into a perfect tousled mess. “Um, I need to head home.”
He turned to go.
“Wait.”
What are you doing, Remi?
I stood up, suddenly breathless, and met his intense gaze. He was beautiful—even tired. My eyes went over him, taking in the steely eyes, the tension in his broad shoulders, the way his hands were clenched at his side—the obvious bulge in his jeans. Oh.
I swallowed and nudged at the comfy chair and ottoman in the corner of the room next to the window. “Do—do you want to sleep here?”
“No.”
My arms crossed and I forced out a laugh. “Don’t be silly. Stay, I insist. We can have coffee in the morning and talk. Here, let me grab some extra blankets and a pillow from the closet. I saw them earlier when I was unpacking.” I brushed past him, but he grabbed my hand, causing me to come to a halt.
“No, Remi.”
“Yes, Dax. It’s what friends do. We help each other out.”
“It’s not a good idea.” His voice had grown husky and he hadn’t let go of my hand.
“Why not?” My thumb was stroking his palm as if directed by a part of my brain I had no control over.
“Because if I stay in this room with you, it’s going to be in that bed, and we aren’t sleeping.” His eyes searched my face, lingering on my mouth.
“Why—why do you always stare at my lips?”
His eyes darkened.
“Dax?”
He sent me a hooded look. “Because I want them on my mouth, kissing me. On my skin, sucking me. Everywhere.” His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, gently tugging it down.
I shuddered, quivering from the picture he painted.
He dropped his hand and exhaled deeply. “We agreed to be friends, but when you stand this close, all I can think about is stripping you out of that shirt, pushing you down on that bed, and screwing you until you moan my name a hundred times before noon.”
“Only a hundred?” I said.
Stop it, Remi!
His lashes dropped. “You’re in dangerous territory, Remi. Tread carefully . . .”
“Just . . . let me touch you. That’s all.” I reached my hand out and rested it on his heart, feeling the rise and fall of his chest.
We stared at each other, and a million what ifs raced through my head.
What if we had sex? Would it ruin our fragile friendship?
What if he immediately moved on to some sorority girl this fall? Would I fall into that pit of despair I’d been in three years ago?