Chapter 13

Thirteen

Gia

I woke slowly, a heavy weight on my side and warmth on my back. I slept better than I had in a long time, and it probably had something to do with the very hard body pressed against mine.

I should have slipped out from under his arm, put on my clothes, and left, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to run like I had last time. I believed him when he said he’d follow me.

As much as I liked the idea of that, it was childish to sneak out again. This was an adult relationship, and I was aware of the implications when I agreed to come to his room last night.

He kissed my shoulder, his voice gravelly with sleep. “Are you awake?”

“Mmm,” I murmured, not ready to get up yet.

“Good. I’ve been waiting all night to do this.” He moved me so that I was flat on my back.

“Waiting for what?” I asked, still feeling somewhat drowsy as he moved between my legs. My nerves tingled at the first contact of his wet mouth on me. I gripped the sheets, quickly becoming lost in the sensations. He used his tongue and teeth to quickly drive me up and over. I was surprised at how quickly I came for him.

I was still shaking and panting when he moved up the bed and slid inside me. He felt just as good as last night, if not better. I kind of loved the freedom of forgoing condoms.

“It’s. So. Good,” he punctuated between thrusts.

“Yesss,” I hissed as his cock hit a few places that were still sore from the night before.

He lowered himself until his chest was pressed against mine, making shallow thrusts and grinding against my clit when he bottomed out. We couldn’t get any closer, and instead of feeling panicked, I felt good. Content even.

I couldn’t remember feeling like this with another man. With Silas, I was in over my head, and falling deeper with every minute I spent with him.

I should have gone back to my room. I should have run as far and as fast as I could, but I stayed, enjoying a few more minutes with him. Last night, I wasn’t sure what the morning would bring, but it wasn’t this.

I thought one of us would leave, and that would be that. I hadn’t expected him to continue the intimacy. Didn’t he see how dangerous this was? How out of control we were? One of us was bound to catch some feelings, and then it would hurt.

I couldn’t let that happen to me. I needed to shore up my emotions and strengthen my walls. Somehow, Silas managed to infiltrate everything.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, placing kisses on my collarbone before sucking one nipple into his mouth. I arched into his mouth, holding him to me. The scrape of his teeth over my hard peak sent me careening toward ecstasy.

His name tumbled out of my mouth despite my best efforts to stifle it.

“I love my name on your lips,” he said as he kissed me, thrusting harder now. It still felt good, satisfying a deep ache inside, one that longed to be filled by him.

I wanted to say Don’t get used to it, but I couldn’t seem to form words.

“I love you like this, all soft and sweet.”

I wanted to protest, to say I’d never been soft or sweet, but I loved that someone saw me that way. I’d hardened myself over the years, first as the youngest of four siblings and then later after my first boyfriend broke up with me so callously. I vowed never to let anyone else in. I focused on my school and then later on my business.

If I could keep my focus on work, everything I’d ever wanted would be mine. Success. Wealth. Happiness.

When he thrust deep one more time, I bit my lip against the words that wanted to spill out. I like you. Being with you is the best thing I’ve ever felt. Nothing good would come from being brutally honest. It would only put me in a position I didn’t want to be in. I hated being vulnerable, and I’d already let Silas see more of me than I’d ever shown anyone else.

I’d been open and carefree once, and it had blown up in my face. I’d never let another guy in, especially not Silas Sharpe. I couldn’t forget that he wasn’t an easygoing, nice guy.

He lifted off me slightly and brushed a strand of hair off my forehead. His touch was tender, his expression a little awestruck. This was too much. My breath got caught in my throat.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Never been better.” At least that much was true. My body was in heaven while my mind was a tangle of ever-tightening knots.

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but I breathed a sigh of relief when he shifted off the bed and held his hand out to me. “Shower with me.”

I couldn’t come up with a valid reason not to, and it wasn’t really a question.

I vaguely remember him asking last night and me telling him I wanted to keep his scent on me. My cheeks heated as I recalled that slip. I hoped he hadn’t remembered.

Who says something like that to a man? Only someone who was completely gone over one, and I would never be that girl again.

“I know you want to keep my scent on you—” he began lightly.

“You remember that?” I asked, purposely keeping my voice light as he led me into his large bathroom. I’d never been in this room before, but it was huge, almost as big as my bedroom at home with a huge walk-in closet and leather chair on the right, a tub with columns, and a rain shower along the back wall.

He turned on the various showerheads, and I wondered why he needed so many. It was a waste for one person.

“Come on. It feels good.” He pulled me to the one in the middle and angled the other showerheads so that they were aimed at us. The steady pressure felt good on my sore muscles. I’d never experienced anything like it. It felt decadent.

I stayed silent as he lathered his hands and washed me from head to toe. Emotion clogged my throat as he took his time, massaging sore muscles and even gliding gently over my core. I almost expected him to go for another round, but he kept his touches light, as if he didn’t want to spark anything.

Instead, his hands were gentle, his kisses featherlight as he covered every inch of me as if I was special, something to be cherished. It wreaked havoc on my brain. This was supposed to be a onetime thing, or a two-time thing, not a relationship.

I couldn’t ask what he was doing because I was afraid of his answer. A part of me wanted more, and that was the scariest thing of all.

When he was finished, I returned the favor, my heart beating out of my chest at the unfamiliar gesture—one I’d never performed on a man before. I wondered if this was something Silas did with other women. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

When we were finished with our bodies, he turned me to lather my hair. His firm touch sent tingles down my spine. I barely contained the moan that rose from my throat. When he was finished rinsing my hair, he said, “Grab one of the heated towels from the rack. I’ll be out in a minute.”

I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and lathered lotion on every inch of my body. Even the products the hotel provided were top quality. I left the room as he got out to get dressed. I hadn’t moved my overnight bag to the room, so I settled for grabbing a T-shirt and shorts from his drawer.

“I like seeing you in my clothes,” he said when he entered the bedroom in a towel knotted low on his hips.

“My things are in my room.” I’d never felt more naked than standing in his room in his too-big clothes.

“We’ll eat and then get them.”

I brushed my hair with the hairbrush he’d left on the dresser. I wondered if the hotel kept spares, or if he did. But again, I didn’t want to ask. This was just an awkward morning after. Except if I was being honest with myself, it felt nice.

“What do you normally do on Sundays?” Silas asked as he led the way into the kitchen. It was modern, with gleaming stainless-steel appliances and smooth white cupboards.

“I catch up on work while the office is quiet.” I was used to spending weekends alone. Harper spent all her time with Leo now, and I hadn’t really fostered other friendships. The women at Happily Ever Afters were more employees than friends.

Silas flashed a smile at me. “I do that on Saturdays, but Sundays are for relaxing and clearing the mind.”

I sat on the metal stool as he grabbed a pan and a carton of eggs from the fridge. “You like eggs?”

“Of course.” I’d never had a man make them for me before. But I kept that tidbit to myself.

“How do you like ‘em?”

“Any way, but I love omelets,” I said, a little surprised that I’d revealed that about myself.

Silas flashed me a bright smile. “Omelets it is.”

Who was this guy, and why had I been avoiding him for all these years? Maybe I was afraid of the inevitable fall. I didn’t want to get hurt again, but I couldn’t seem to make myself walk away. I should have made some excuse as to why I needed to go to work, but it was Sunday, and even I knew it was lame to use work as an excuse after the amazing night we’d shared.

“Surely you do more than just work,” Silas chided.

“I get up early, work out, and drink my coffee. So, it feels like a lazy morning.”

He raised a brow as he cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them. “You ever go to brunch with friends?”

My throat tightened, and I attempted to clear it.

“Let me grab you a water. I’ll get the coffee going in a minute.” Silas filled a glass with ice and water from the fridge and handed it to me.

The cold glass felt good against my forehead. Why did I feel feverish suddenly? Then I drank the cool liquid, almost wishing it were alcohol so I could numb myself for this conversation.

When he raised his gaze to mine, I realized he hadn’t forgotten the question. “I work the rest of the day.”

He raised a brow. “Even I’m not that hardworking.”

“What do you do?” I asked, desperate to get him off the subject of my habits.

“I’ll go out on my boat with friends or tinker around my house.”

“You’re handy?” I asked, impressed. Silas struck me as a suit type who hired out for any needs he might have.

“It doesn’t come easily to me, but I know how to watch how-to videos online. I’m a pro at that.” He flashed me a devastatingly handsome smile.

“That’s impressive.” I was hopeless at anything that needed to be fixed if it wasn’t related to marketing, business, or weddings.

He transferred the eggs to the pan and said nonchalantly, “You should come with me.”

“Go where?” I asked, watching as his muscles flexed as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing a bag of coffee beans and scooping them into the machine.

“On my boat.”

My eyes widened as he hit start on the machine, and the sound of beans grinding filled the air. When the noise died down, Silas arched his brow. “Well?”

I was tempted. “I should get home and catch up on things from the week.”

“I’m going to guess that you have a housekeeper, someone who does your dry cleaning, and maybe even a physical trainer.”

“Yes, to the cleaner and the laundry, but no to the trainer. I prefer to lead my own workouts.”

He grinned. “Of course, you do.”

“It’s just that I know my body best,” I insisted, not wanting him to think I was a control freak when I was.

“After last night, I feel like I’m intimately familiar with it,” he said, with one eye on me and the other on the pan.

My body flushed with heat and desire, and something else I couldn’t define.

He focused on me. “You’re really going to pass on a chance to go out on a boat to work?”

“That’s what I should do,” I said, rethinking my stance.

He turned and braced his hands on the counter. “When was the last time you did something fun?”

I panicked at the word fun . I wasn’t even sure what that meant. I enjoyed working. I loved working out. It felt good, but was it fun? I didn’t have time to read or watch TV. I didn’t have any friends except for Harper.

Silas shook his head. “That’s just sad.”

“I have a great life.” I loved building my business. I could relax when it was successful, which I defined as bringing in a significant profit. I took care of myself by working out and eating healthy, at least most of the time.

“Yet you can’t recount one time that was fun.”

I racked my brain, trying to find one memory that could be characterized as fun. “I enjoyed the pizzeria’s opening.”

He shot me a disbelieving look. “Unless you’re talking about our kiss in the kitchen, I don’t believe you.”

I shrugged. “I don’t have to go on a boat to have fun.”

“Probably not, but I want to take you. Will you let me?” Silas asked, and despite all my very valid reasons not to go, I found myself nodding.

He grinned, and the light from that one smile lit me up from the inside.

Extending our time together was not a good idea, but I couldn’t come up with a reason to disappoint him. It seemed important that I go with him. He wanted to share this one thing with me, and who was I to deny him?

“You brought a spare set of clothes?” Silas asked.

I nodded. “And a bathing suit because I wanted to try out your pool.”

“You can wear it on the boat. I know a cove where we can swim. It’s private, and most boaters don’t know about it.”

“That sounds nice.” It actually sounded kind of amazing, but I didn’t want to admit that to him.

He slid the omelet from the pan to the plate. “I just added cheese.”

“That’s perfect.”

He pushed it across the counter toward me and then poured the coffee. “Cream or sugar?”

“Cream if you have it,” I said, trying not to think about how domestic all this seemed.

He grabbed a few cream pods from the fridge, the kind hotels stocked. “I get them from downstairs for when I have guests.”

“You have guests often?” I asked, trying to sound innocent. He’d said he didn’t bring women here, but I wasn’t sure.

Silas shot me a knowing look. “My parents like to stay here from time to time.”

“They stay here and not in one of the other rooms?”

“It’s a two-bedroom suite, and it’s like a condo. It doesn’t feel like a hotel room.”

For the first time, I looked around as he started his eggs. There were framed photos on the wall of his brothers and parents on his boat and standing in front of the hotel, probably at the opening, and others of him when he was little. “Your family is close?”

I didn’t know much about him. If my brothers had mentioned his family, I didn’t listen.

“We are. All of us live in the area, and we see my parents often.”

“That’s nice,” I said, wondering why his words sent a pang through my heart.

“It’s very similar to your family.”

That felt like a lie because I hadn’t gone to family dinner on Sundays in a long time. My mother was disappointed, but she’d given up on pressuring me to go. There was a rift between Papà and me, and no amount of family dinners would fix it.

“Leo mentioned that you don’t go to Sunday dinners anymore.”

“Remember? I’m usually working.” I shifted in my chair, uncomfortable with him asking questions about the situation.

“And your parents are okay with that excuse?” Silas asked.

“They aren’t, but they don’t have a choice.”

“What’s the real reason?” he asked, his hip cocked against the counter as he crossed his impressive biceps over his chest.

“My dad doesn’t respect my choice to open a business separate from his. He thinks I should be working with him.”

Silas frowned. “That’s tough.”

“I couldn’t work for him anymore. I felt stifled. I had all these ideas, and he didn’t want to hear them.”

Silas raised a brow. “He approved the expansion of the restaurant.”

“Only because my brothers would have gone out on their own if he’d said no. I get the irony. He didn’t care about me leaving because I’m just one person. But my brothers run the other restaurant. He needs them.”

“I’m sure he needed you too.”

“As a waitress? I have more to give than being a server.” I sighed and put my fork down. “It doesn’t matter because I didn’t want to work for my parents or the pizzeria.”

“He doesn’t respect your dreams.”

“He doesn’t respect my business. He thinks everyone in the family should work for him. But I couldn’t. There wasn’t a place for me in it, and it wasn’t what I wanted. But he wasn’t listening to what I wanted.”

“And you want to prove yourself to him,” Silas observed, his voice gentle.

I laughed without any humor. “That’s impossible. Nothing I do ever seems to impress him. He still sees me as a rebellious teenager. No amount of monetary success or good grades seems to alter his opinion of me. It’s like he doesn’t see me.” That admission came from somewhere deep, somewhere I hadn’t accessed in a long time.

Silas’s expression softened as he came around the counter and pulled me into his arms. I rested my cheek against his hard chest, sinking into him and savoring the feel of his arms around me. “I see you.”

I closed my eyes against the feeling behind his words. I thought this conversation was about family and parents, not about him.

“Sometimes you have to do things for yourself. Not to impress others around you. If you’re always seeking his approval, you might be disappointed.”

He eased back, and I smiled to cover the emotion I was feeling. “Yeah, I get that. I don’t need his approval, or at least I shouldn’t.” It was something I struggled with because a part of me would always want it. Even if I thought it was a pipe dream.