Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
A plan to deal with all this temptation pulsing between us.
With my jaw as tight as my muscles, I open the door. When Fable and I step inside, I take in every detail, like a robot scanning the landscape for intel. The king-size sleigh bed is adorned with plush pillows, a fluffy white duvet, and a red fleece blanket draped over the foot of the mattress. The room is L-shaped and in the little nook sits a cozy couch opposite a fireplace. Next to the fireplace is a Christmas tree, decorated simply with strands of lights, some tinsel, and several candy canes. The scent of pine and mint is faint but welcoming all the same.
It’s a lovers’ suite for sure. No two ways about it. But we said that time in my office was a once-only thing. A lapse. Something we needed to get out of our systems. We got it out and here we fucking are—sharing a bed.
My chest burns. My mind unhelpfully supplies a thousand filthy images. I fight the desire to look at the gorgeous woman next to me and toss her on that bed right now to test it out. I’ve got to get this lust under control. Now.
This is fine. This is totally fine. I can work with this suite.
Robot mode activated, I don’t waste a second cleaning up the mess Bibi made of my plans. I grab the bags and set them inside. The second the door closes with a click, I gesture to the sofa. “I’ll take the couch,” I declare firmly. There are no two ways about it. This is not up for discussion.
But Fable swivels around and stares at me like I’ve lost all common sense. Well, I feel a little tossed around. I don’t admit that often, and I’m sure as fuck not admitting it now to her. Fable’s kiss on my cheek knocked the breath right out of me. If anything more happens, I’ll be lost to her and she’ll know what a fool I am for falling.
“Wilder,” she says, arching one brow. “That’s ridiculous.”
My confidence stalls for a second, but then I remember Bibi’s stunt in front of all our guests and decide to stand my ground. “It’s fine.”
“It’s two-feet long.”
“It’s six,” I correct her. To prove my point, I walk along the carpet next to the sofa, measuring the furniture with precise steps. I complete six steps and turn around, victorious. “Six. There you go.”
She rolls her eyes. “And you’re over six feet.”
“Six one.”
She nods like I told you so. “Exactly. And I’m, wait for it, not six feet. So I’ll take it.”
“This is not a logic problem. It’s a manners issue,” I say, sharply. “You’re not taking it.”
She snaps her gaze to me. “Did you just give me an order?”
I did. And I sounded like a dick. But I don’t relent. “Yes. Because there is no way I’m letting you sleep on that couch.”
She crosses her arms. “Is that so?”
“Yes, that’s so,” I reply. As Fable narrows her eyes at me, I can see the gears turning in her head. She’s always been quick-witted and fiercely independent, and I know she won’t back down without a fight. Something in me wants that fight. I’m not sure why, but I do.
“You can’t just dictate where I sleep, Wilder,” she retorts, her voice laced with defiance. “I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”
Of course she is. I don’t doubt that for a second. But a flicker of challenge crosses her eyes, daring me to push back even harder. It’s a turn-on.
“This is not about control, Fable,” I say, keeping my voice steady despite the current inside me. “This is about chivalry. And as the gentleman here, I’m taking the couch.”
“This is chivalrous?”
“What would you call it?”
She crosses her arms and stares right at me. “You’re bossy.”
“I am the boss.”
“Yes, back at work. But right here,” she says, pointing to the floor, “we’re in this situationship together. And this is a ridiculous solution.” She takes a step closer to me, her voice low and intense. “You can’t control every aspect of this fake relationship, Wilder.”
She’s so infuriatingly headstrong. Like a goddess whipping up a storm. I should stop this argument, but it’s not in my nature to step down. “I’m not controlling it. It just makes sense.”
“You can’t decide for me, Wilder. We both deserve a comfortable place to sleep, and that bed looks plenty big enough for both of us.”
The bed.
Dear god, the fucking bed.
That’s the issue. That’s why I can’t back down. The thought of sharing a bed with her is too alluring. Actually doing it, though, would be my downfall. I would reach for her at night. I would press a kiss to her shoulder as I was dozing off. In the middle of the night, when the world went calm and still, I’d wrap her in my arms and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Like I’m so hung up on you.