“That’s what you want to say to me right now?”
“Well... thank you for the stress reliever, seems a bit selfish.”
Stress reliever.
Right.
Because all she thinks is that I’d do this so she doesn’t think about her family.
Sinking into a bathtub of ice after a hard practice couldn’t kill my erection faster than her words.
“Anything you need, Jilly-Bean.”
I slide my fingers out of her and pull down her dress. Once she’s covered, I roll off her, slide in behind her and wrap my arms around her.
11
Jillian
What in the hell just happened?!
I’m stuck between listless limbs unable to work after that incredible orgasm and heart-pounding fear over what we’ve just done.
And did I honestly thank him for being a stress reliever?
If it wouldn’t make it so obvious I’m a totally freaking basket case and on the very edge of freaking out, I’d slap my forehead. As it is, Klaus curls me to him, my cheek to his shoulder and runs his hands through his hair. His heart is racing.
His body is steaming.
There are so many more things I want to do with him and to him and for him, my mind is speed racing through dozens of scenarios I’ve imagined over the years.
But this? Now?
His lips press the top of my head. “I can hear you thinking. Stop. Everything will be fine.”
“Hmm-mmm.” Of course it will be, because we’re friends. And guys can make their friends come so hard they see stars and hear angels sing and be back to normal less than thirty seconds later.
“I’m going to go shower. I assume you need a few minutes to worry in private?”
He’s chuckling as he says it. It’s a shame I like him so much. Especially since I’m going to have to kill him. That might be drastic. Perhaps I’ll simply maim him in his muscular thighs on broad display beneath his gray boxer briefs as he heads to the bathroom.
“Hey Jilly-Bean?”
I yank my gaze off his thighs, to the still visible bulge straight to Klaus’s sexy as hell smirk and gleaming blue eyes. “While you’re lying there, freaking out and wondering what all this means, just know that was the best twenty minutes of my life.”
He ducks inside the bathroom.
Good thing, too, because I’ve already reached for my phone. I whip it from my hand, but Klaus is too fast. My phone slams into the wood door as it closes, landing on the floor with an unsatisfying thunk. From behind the closed door, Klaus’s laughter echoes.
I fall back into the bed, the scent of what we’ve done and the reminder of it so vivid, a tremulous smile breaks out.
This was the best twenty minutes of his life?
Mine too. Holy moly, I’m going to feel him for days.
I stretch my limbs before I climb out of the bed and head toward my closet. The parental dinner always means heeled sandals and dresses.
“Thank you, Melinda.” My closet is lined with all the contents from my garment bag, dresses on display, perfectly spaced, and I’m assuming, steamed and pressed and wrinkle-free. I flip through them once, then twice before I realize my hands are still trembling.
From what Klaus did? From the fear?
And holy crap. What did I say to him right before I fell asleep? You’re my favorite.
Oh no.
I ball my hands into fists and flex them to get the sensation to go away. It’s useless.
With one orgasm from Klaus, I’m twisted into a neurotic mess. It’s the last thing I need this weekend when I’m thirty-six hours away from watching Roman and Julianna tie the knot in the church I was supposed to marry him in.
It’s enough to mess with my mind on its own. I don’t need whatever this is with Klaus making me dizzier.
By the time he comes out of the bathroom, dressed in only a white towel wrapped and tucked around his hips, I’m resolved.
Until I see that towel. The muscles in front and in back as he heads toward his own suitcase. And dear sweet baby Jesus in a manger. Should a man’s ass look so good in a towel?
How does he manage to be so perfect?
I grip the cool metal hanger in my hand. I can do this. I can let Klaus know whatever just happened won’t happen again and when we get back to Charlotte we’ll figure everything out.
But then he stands, pair of black boxer briefs in his fist, that V-muscle of his hips on full, dripping wet display above that towel. I not only swallow my words, every brain cell of mine goes with them.
“Ugh,” I choke out. Work, mouth! Speak! Think!
Klaus’s lips lift at the edges, giving me that swoon-worthy smile. “You’re not done freaking out.”
It’s a statement, not a question. I’d slap him if he wasn’t so far away… or if I wasn’t more afraid of getting too close to him. One little flick of my thumb and finger at that knotted towel and I’ll be dropping to my knees and thanking him for all the stress he’s relieved me from and created at the same time.
“Not really.”
“Did you like that?”
“Um… is my back yard full of vegetables?” What a ridiculous question! Of course I liked it. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t want the things he can use his hands for?
“So that’s it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“You’re right.” His hands go to his waist, drawing my attention to that flimsy little tucked in towel corner. I press on, lifting my gaze, snagging on the V-muscle. Those glorious abs, all the way to his throat, where he swallows slowly. I swear he’s doing this on purpose. How dare the man have the decency to swallow at a time like this! I’m already trembling and my hands might as well be dipped in mud for as clammy as they are.
He’s too much. Too perfect. Too sexy. Too… grinning at me with a delightful smile I want to slide my tongue across.
“I feel like I should be offended for the way you just molested me with your eyes. Or get paid.”
“Please.” I huff. Useless. My cheeks are on fire and my hair is sticking to the back of my neck. I need a shower. A cold one to ice down all these rioting sensations. “You’re all right.”
“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I haven’t even taken your clothes off yet.”
My hands clench around my dress. I’m pretty sure he’s moving closer. Or maybe the room is spinning. What is happening!? All my earlier, well-reasoned arguments have fled out the window, skipped over the privacy wall, and dove straight into the ocean.
“Klaus—”
“Give me this weekend.”
“What?” I blink. That’s not what I was expecting, although at this point, I have no idea what will come out of his mouth.
He is moving closer. Sauntering slowly, almost as if he’s afraid of scaring me. He’s right! My gaze darts to the bed, to the door, to my room. If I move quick, I might be able to hop, skip, and jump my way to freedom and sanity.
“I don’t want us to pretend to be in love this weekend.” He swallows. That damn apple bob of his in his throat. It’s so tantalizing. I lick my lips. “I want us to live it.”
“You want us—”