Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club, #1)(28)

But the man on the other side of the bed seemed to be moving with quietness and care. Was he as nervous about this as I was? Or was he simply hoping to keep from waking me so I wouldn’t bother him as he was trying to fall asleep?

The covers moved and I felt his weight slide onto the mattress. Oh my god, I was in bed with my boss.

Okay, this was fine. I’d thought about this ever since Nora had brought it up over martinis. It was part of the deal. Like Shepherd had said earlier, we were both adults, and it was a king-sized bed.

Neither of us moved and tiredness started to get the best of me. I was warm from the bath and exhausted from moving. His bed was amazingly comfortable, and I sank deeper into the mattress as my body relaxed. My eyes drifted closed.

And then he moved.

He rolled over, the silky sheets rustling against his body. Oh my god, what was he wearing? I hadn’t looked. Did he wear pajamas to bed? Was he in his underwear? Did he usually sleep naked and he’d have to get used to sleeping with something on since I was here? I wanted to turn over and peek, but I couldn’t move. It was like I’d been paralyzed.

In the silence of the dark room, I heard him take a slow, deep breath. I could imagine the air filling his lungs, his broad chest expanding. I wondered if he had chest hair. The hair on his head was dark and thick—chest hair seemed likely. And, oh god, did he have a happy trail on his lower…

Stop it, Everly. Stop it, now.

This wasn’t helping me sleep, and I had to work tomorrow. What was I supposed to say to him? Sorry I dozed off during the meeting, I was up late contemplating your body hair.

No. Not good.

My back was getting stiff from lying in the same position for too long. I needed to move, but I was afraid to try. What if I accidentally touched him? What if my toes brushed his leg?

I kept still for a while longer, but eventually I had to risk it. I’d never fall asleep like this. Lifting the covers slightly, so I wouldn’t pull them off Shepherd when I moved, I rolled over to my other side.

This put me facing him, so I kept my eyes squeezed shut. I hadn’t accidentally touched him, so that was good. Realistically, there were probably three feet of space between us. I was as close to the edge of the bed as I could get without falling off. He’d probably done the same thing.

Risking a quick peek, I opened my eyes just a crack. His back was to me, the covers pulled up to his shoulder. In the darkness, I couldn’t tell what he was wearing.

I’d never given it a lot of thought, but sharing a bed was awfully intimate. There was a certain vulnerability to it. Shepherd was an exceedingly private person, and he never made decisions without careful consideration. The fact that he trusted me enough for this was oddly touching.

It made me want to be the best fake girlfriend ever.





12





Shepherd





It took me a few seconds to realize I hadn’t pressed the button to my floor after I’d stepped into the elevator. That would explain why the doors had slid closed, but I wasn’t moving. I hit twenty-seven and felt the elevator begin to rise.

For the second time in less than a week, I hadn’t slept well. Except that last night, instead of being haunted by visions of a woman in a red dress, I’d had a woman who smelled like fucking heaven lying next to me.

How the hell did she smell that good? I’d never noticed it before. Although I’d never been in such close quarters with her for a long period of time. Her scent was subtle, nothing overpowering. She smelled like strawberries, which I would never have considered an appealing way for a woman to smell before Everly. But she did, and it was delicious… and distracting as hell.

Her scent must have been from something she’d used in the bath. I was certain she hadn’t been trying to tempt me with anything by taking a bath—and leaving the door open a crack—but the effect had been dramatic. The thought of her lying in my bathtub, naked, had been overwhelmingly arousing. I’d gone back to my office to calm down and wound up rubbing one out in a futile attempt to relax. I’d come fast, and hard, but I’d still been plagued with yet another uncooperative erection as soon as I’d smelled her in my bed.

I was a man, I had needs. But I was accustomed to being in control of those needs. Everly had me feeling out-of-control, and it was enormously uncomfortable. I didn’t know what was wrong with me.

I hadn’t counted on any of this when I’d asked her to pose as my girlfriend.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Clearing my throat, I straightened the collar of my coat and walked to my office.

She was already here—she was always here before I arrived, wasn’t she?—and she stood, my coffee in her hand, as soon as she saw me.

I couldn’t look her in the eyes. My body was already reacting to the memory of that little splash of water—the sound I’d heard when I’d paused by the bathroom door. I’d been overcome with the image of her bare legs tipping apart, revealing a shimmery view of her pussy.

God, I was doing it again.

“Good morning, Mr. Calloway.”

Her voice was hesitant, and I didn’t answer. Just walked into my office, knowing she’d follow. Wondering if she still smelled like summer.

I heard the click of her heels behind me. Why did she have me so disconcerted? It must have been the sleep deprivation. I took sleep—as well as exercise and proper diet—very seriously. The lack of sleep was clearly getting to me.