moment.
“Fine, but don’t blame me if I pull the blankets off you or accidentally kick you out of bed. I tend to toss and turn,” he murmurs.
Something tells me that neither he, nor I, are going to get a lot of sleep tonight. I’m going to be expecting lots of tossing and turning myself.
Throwing the pillow back on the bed, he goes to the bathroom and closes the door, presumably to get ready for bed. Now I need to think about what I’m going to wear for sleep…blushing at the thought of him seeing me in my underwear again. Grinning to myself, I quickly get up and rummage through my bag to find my cotton shorts and tank top. This could be very well the worst or best night of sleep in my life.
♦
It was the worst sleep I’ve ever had. Bar none. What Tristan said about tossing and turning, I made up for by treating the blanket like it’s sort of light switch to be constantly played with. The heat and humidity, even at night, is atrocious and even with the air conditioning I could feel a thin layer sweat on my back. Then add the fact that the hotel is located near the busy club district, there was never-ending nightlife and traffic noises to contend with. And most especially, it didn’t help that I had my hunky brooding crush just inches away from me.
I remember feeling his torment – the way he fisted the sheets by my thighs, the way he tossed and turned whenever I moved, the way his nostrils flared every time I pulled the blanket off me. Whilst he tossed and turned it would only be to the side with his back to me or to the ceiling, and he switched between those two positions so many times I should have started counting it to help me fall asleep. And then as he would inch near me, he would still himself, freezing into position to avoid getting any closer.
Instead, all I could concentrate on was that pouring heat emitting from his skin as it buzzed near mine. That vanilla scent, which I still smell, had made its way into my nose just when I thought I was starting to drift into subconsciousness; waking me again, only to be left wanting. My mind couldn’t stray from thoughts of how dry my mouth was, how the apex of my thighs was aching, crying for attention. Even now, I squirm, trying to alleviate the pressure. It’s all for him, and there is nothing I can do about it. There is nothing I’m going to do about it.
I can’t make the first move, it’s just not in my DNA. Instead I just thought about how much I didn’t want to desire him until I somehow, eventually fell asleep. I don’t know how but it just happened.
It’s 10am and I’m with Gabe outside the Purple Lotus. If it wasn’t for my damn phobia I could have had a great sleep last night, not to mention having to deal with the torture that is sleeping with Tristan but not sleeping with him. Tristan should be almost to Pattaya now, he left without saying goodbye but I heard him as soon as he got up. I just pretended not to notice because in that brief moment I would have asked him to stay. I would have asked him to take me to bed. But nothing happened, which is something Gabe is finding hard to process.
“What do you mean nothing happened? I thought you two would have done like it five times by now.” Gabe slides on his aviator sunnies as he hails a cab in front of the hotel.
“Nothing happened, literally. We had dinner to talk about work and came back, and slept. He was gone by the time I was up.”
“What a bummer, maybe he wasn’t in the mood?”
Given the way he looked at me in my push-up bra, I doubt it. Given the way he got all embarrassed when I suggested he share the bed with me, I seriously doubt it.
I dash eagerly towards the incoming cab, wanting to drop the subject. I’m freaking exhausted, not even a caked layer of foundation is enough to hide the bags. But I have to get over it because I just want to meet the clients, impress the heck out of them and go back to the motel and nap.
As soon as we get in
“Fine, but don’t blame me if I pull the blankets off you or accidentally kick you out of bed. I tend to toss and turn,” he murmurs.
Something tells me that neither he, nor I, are going to get a lot of sleep tonight. I’m going to be expecting lots of tossing and turning myself.
Throwing the pillow back on the bed, he goes to the bathroom and closes the door, presumably to get ready for bed. Now I need to think about what I’m going to wear for sleep…blushing at the thought of him seeing me in my underwear again. Grinning to myself, I quickly get up and rummage through my bag to find my cotton shorts and tank top. This could be very well the worst or best night of sleep in my life.
♦
It was the worst sleep I’ve ever had. Bar none. What Tristan said about tossing and turning, I made up for by treating the blanket like it’s sort of light switch to be constantly played with. The heat and humidity, even at night, is atrocious and even with the air conditioning I could feel a thin layer sweat on my back. Then add the fact that the hotel is located near the busy club district, there was never-ending nightlife and traffic noises to contend with. And most especially, it didn’t help that I had my hunky brooding crush just inches away from me.
I remember feeling his torment – the way he fisted the sheets by my thighs, the way he tossed and turned whenever I moved, the way his nostrils flared every time I pulled the blanket off me. Whilst he tossed and turned it would only be to the side with his back to me or to the ceiling, and he switched between those two positions so many times I should have started counting it to help me fall asleep. And then as he would inch near me, he would still himself, freezing into position to avoid getting any closer.
Instead, all I could concentrate on was that pouring heat emitting from his skin as it buzzed near mine. That vanilla scent, which I still smell, had made its way into my nose just when I thought I was starting to drift into subconsciousness; waking me again, only to be left wanting. My mind couldn’t stray from thoughts of how dry my mouth was, how the apex of my thighs was aching, crying for attention. Even now, I squirm, trying to alleviate the pressure. It’s all for him, and there is nothing I can do about it. There is nothing I’m going to do about it.
I can’t make the first move, it’s just not in my DNA. Instead I just thought about how much I didn’t want to desire him until I somehow, eventually fell asleep. I don’t know how but it just happened.
It’s 10am and I’m with Gabe outside the Purple Lotus. If it wasn’t for my damn phobia I could have had a great sleep last night, not to mention having to deal with the torture that is sleeping with Tristan but not sleeping with him. Tristan should be almost to Pattaya now, he left without saying goodbye but I heard him as soon as he got up. I just pretended not to notice because in that brief moment I would have asked him to stay. I would have asked him to take me to bed. But nothing happened, which is something Gabe is finding hard to process.
“What do you mean nothing happened? I thought you two would have done like it five times by now.” Gabe slides on his aviator sunnies as he hails a cab in front of the hotel.
“Nothing happened, literally. We had dinner to talk about work and came back, and slept. He was gone by the time I was up.”
“What a bummer, maybe he wasn’t in the mood?”
Given the way he looked at me in my push-up bra, I doubt it. Given the way he got all embarrassed when I suggested he share the bed with me, I seriously doubt it.
I dash eagerly towards the incoming cab, wanting to drop the subject. I’m freaking exhausted, not even a caked layer of foundation is enough to hide the bags. But I have to get over it because I just want to meet the clients, impress the heck out of them and go back to the motel and nap.
As soon as we get in
Similar Books
