Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Beat was still looking her in the eye, his expression one of . . . surprise? Dread? Awe?
She couldn’t think clearly enough to tell. Only knew she wanted him to leave the planet, too. She wanted—needed—him with her on the journey.
“I want you to come, too,” she whispered, panting. “Please.”
Conflict and regret seemed to weigh him down. With a whispered apology, suddenly Beat was lowering her to the ground with his own shaking hands, backing away from her with a perspiring, heaving chest. “I’m sorry, Mel. Fuck.”
Her orgasm-muddled mind struggled to play catch-up, but his words carried back to her from only moments before. Don’t let me come.
When he’d made that request, she’d been too overwhelmed by him to examine it.
Now, with him moving farther and farther away, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d been deprived of something. Rejected. Her stomach dropped to her knees, hands moving quickly to cover herself back up with the shirt. A jagged hiccup rose in her throat and she quickly swallowed it, lunging for the guest room door, loss and a lack of closure making her feel light. Too light. Untethered.
As soon as she closed the door, she heard his footsteps carrying him to the spot outside of the guest room. “Mel. Let me in.”
“No.” She worked to modulate her voice. “It’s okay.”
Something full, like his forehead, bumped the door.
“Everything is fine. I’m just ready for bed.”
“Everything isn’t fine, Mel.”
“It is. I promise.”
A few seconds ticked by. “I’m sorry I couldn’t . . . that I don’t know how to share that with you. If I could be with anyone when it happens, it would be you.”
Melody’s throat was too tight to respond. Feeling painfully exposed, she climbed into bed and wrapped herself in the covers, burying her face in the pillow. What had just happened? Had her orgasm turned him off? Had she been too eager? Had she come across as desperate? That last one made her cringe into the pillow.
A few seconds later, Beat’s heavy footsteps carried him back to his bedroom, the door shutting with a note of frustration, leaving them separated by more than one kind of wall.
Chapter Fifteen
December 16
Beat paced in front of his apartment door. 5:50 a.m. and Melody still hadn’t come out of the guest room. He could hear her moving around in there. What was her plan? Walk out at six on the dot so they would be on camera and not have to talk about what happened last night?
He’d approached the door once already with the intention of knocking, so they could have a face-to-face discussion without the glowing red light blinking two feet away and Danielle’s pen scratching on her clipboard. But what the hell could he say to make the situation better? He needed to figure it out, because they had eight more days in close quarters—and he really should be less grateful and turned on thinking about that. Hours spent together in the back of a dark SUV. And later tonight, more chances to be alone.
More chances to fuck up this friendship he was valuing more by the minute.
A quiet cough on the other side of Melody’s door made his pulse skip, followed by the sound of her uncapping lipstick, if he wasn’t mistaken. God, then he couldn’t think of anything but her mouth. Kissing Melody was like a welcome home party in a place he’d never be lucky enough to call his home. It was trespassing. He’d had no right teasing open those lips so wide or sweeping his tongue that deep. Getting his hips good and notched between her thighs, so she could push down and pulse and get him so goddamn horny he’d nearly lost his grip on control.
That had never happened. Not once.
Beat always finished alone. The pleasure was measured and drawn out for maximum suffering, but he never stayed for the end. That was done on his own time. Being vulnerable like that with someone? No. He didn’t trust anyone enough. But . . . he’d never faced anyone like Melody. That darkening of her cheekbones and the stutter of her breath, the uncontrollable trembling. The trust she seemed to have in him. Their bond that was so tangible, it almost didn’t make sense. He’d felt the signs of her release straight through his pants and she’d almost ended him, then and there.
He’d hurt her feelings by backing off, withholding himself, which was the absolute last thing he would ever do intentionally. Why did he have to be so magnetized to someone he had the ability to hurt?
They needed to talk now.
This standoff was no good.
If he had to go the entire day without knowing where they stood, he was going to do something ill-advised, like give into frustration and hash it out in front of a worldwide audience.