Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“I don’t feel well,” she whispers.
Gripping her chin, I tilt her head to look at her. Big brown eyes are filled with tears and her mascara is smeared. Her smooth hair is a soaked, frizzy mess. She’s pale as fuck too.
“Why don’t you change out of your clothes and lie down?” I offer. “You’ll feel better soon.” I start for the door, but her whimper stops me.
“Is a category two bad if it hits us?”
Fear.
Her voice drips with it.
I’m shocked that she’s afraid of anything. She hides it well if she is. Right now, the tequila has dropped her defenses and a terrified young woman stares back at me.
“The locals are used to hurricanes. We’ll board everything up, stick together, and ride out the storm when it hits.” I walk back over to her and kiss her forehead. “You’ll be safe, Sher.”
She doesn’t correct me for not using her full name.
“Can you help me?” Her brown eyes bore into mine, filled with heat.
Fuck.
I’d love nothing more than to strip this hellion and drive into her just so I can feel her claws and listen to her screams.
But not like this.
Not when she’s at an apparent low.
I’m an arrogant pilot, not an asshole.
“Yeah, abejita, I can help you. Where are your clothes?”
She points to Estefania’s side of the room and not her expensive bag at her feet. I shrug and go over to one of Estefania’s messy bags and pull out some silky orange number that most definitely is something Sheridan would never choose for herself. When I turn around, I nearly swallow my tongue.
Sheridan has pulled off the linen skirt and matching top she was wearing and stands in nothing but a white lacy underwear set. It looks fancy as fuck. I want to rip it to shreds with my teeth, and then give one of her perfect tits a bite. As soon as the bra loosens as she unhooks it, I get a hold of myself and stalk over to her. I’m trying to keep my eyes averted as I slip the transparent gown over her head.
“My panties,” she breathes, making my dick incredibly hard.
“Are staying on,” I growl. “When you wake up tomorrow, if you still want to take them off in my presence, come see me. Otherwise, let’s keep them on.”
She pouts and it’s pretty damn cute. “Will you stay with me?”
“I better not.”
Her fingertips dance along my abs and up my pectorals. “I’m worried about the hurricane.”
“It’s just rain for now,” I assure her.
She forces a smile and nods, unable to keep the quiver out of her chin. Well, fuck.
“Fine,” I grumble. “But I’ve had a helluva long day and would like to rest. I’m going to grab a quick shower first.”
I pull back the covers and help her into bed, trying and failing at not looking at the way her perky nipples strain against the orange, sheer fabric. Once she’s covered, I take the coldest shower known to man to make my hard-on go away. The idea of putting my wet swim trunks back on is annoying, so I opt to stay in the towel instead. I step into the room to find her already fast asleep. Maybe I should just go.
Something hard hits the window and she sits up, her eyes wild. “What was that?”
“Just the storm,” I assure her. “It’s fine.”
Her entire body trembles as she stares at the window like a monster is going to bust through. I walk over to the bed and climb in it beside her. She relaxes when I guide her back down onto the pillows. Then, in a surprising move, she turns toward me and buries her face against my chest.
I’ve never been one to cuddle. Frankly, I haven’t ever been able to sit still long enough. But with Sheridan—fierce yet vulnerable Sheridan—pressed against me, I can’t help but hold her close and inhale her hair. She molds to me in all the right ways like she was made for me.
Dangerous thoughts.
In a few days, the storm will be gone, and so will she.
On that note, I close my eyes.
Chapter 9
Sheridan
“Alone for five minutes and girlfriend is already trying to have his babies.”
“I am the worst friend!”
“She looks pretty okay if you ask me.”
“Do you think she likes to share? I’d like to be in the middle of that sandwich.”
“I knew they had chemistry.”
I groan, hating the way my head aches. The voices feel too loud. Too close. Too everything. I’m attempting to roll over but am trapped. Awareness settles around me as I realize someone hard and naked is pressed against me.
Oh God.
Last night was blurry.
Drinks. Dancing. The fight in the filthy office at the restaurant.
Camilo carrying me. Camilo dressing me. Camilo holding me.
And Camilo fucking me.
Heat floods my body. That didn’t happen, though. I hate that I wish it did. What about David? I stiffen at that thought. This week was supposed to be about him. I was supposed to go to Daddy’s wedding and spend uninterrupted time with David. Make him see how right we are together and commit to something. It’s not like he doesn’t find me attractive. He slept with me, after all. Kisses me on occasion. Takes me to dinner often. We’re meant to be.