Michelle Celmer - Mistress to the Magnate - Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation

He helped her out and across the parking lot. All the sleep should have energized her, but she was still exhausted, and her head hurt worse than it had before. Maybe this trip was harder on her system than she realized.

Their bags were already inside and sitting on the bed.

“They didn’t have any doubles left and there isn’t another hotel for miles,” he said apologetically. “If you don’t want to share, I can sack out on the floor.”

They had shared a bed for three years. Of course, she had no memory of that. Maybe he was worried that she would feel strange sleeping with him until they got to know one another better. Which she had to admit was pretty sweet. It was a little unusual being with him this late at night, since he always left the hospital by ten. But actually, it was kind of nice.

“I don’t mind sharing,” she assured him.

“How’s your head feel?”

She rubbed her left temple. “Like it’s going to implode. Or explode. I’m not sure which.”

He tapped two painkillers out and got her a glass of water. “Maybe a hot shower would help.”

She swallowed them and said, “It probably would.”

“You can use the bathroom first.”

She stepped in the bathroom and closed the door, smiling when she saw that he’d set her toiletry bag on the edge of the sink. He seriously could not take better care of her.

She dropped her clothes on the mat and blasted the water as hot as she could stand then stepped under the spray. She soaped up, then washed and conditioned her hair, then she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, letting the water beat down on her. When she felt herself listing to one side her eyes flew open and she jerked upright, realizing that she had actually drifted off to sleep.

She shut the water off and climbed out, wrapping herself in a towel that reeked of bleach. She combed her hair and brushed her teeth, grabbed her dirty clothes, and when she stepped out of the bathroom Ash was lying in bed with the television controller in one hand, watching a news program.

“Your turn,” she said.

He glanced over at her, did a quick double take, then turned back to the TV screen. “I thought I was going to have to call in the national guard,” he said. “You were in there a while.”

“Sorry. I fell asleep in the shower.”

“On or off?” he said, gesturing to the TV.

“Off. The second my head hits the pillow I’ll be out cold.”

He switched it off and rolled out of bed, grabbing the pajama bottoms he’d set out. “Out in a minute,” he said as he stepped in the bathroom and shut the door. Less than ten seconds later she heard the shower turn on.

Barely able to keep her eyes open, Melody walked on wobbly legs to the bed. She’d forgotten to grab something to sleep in from her suitcase, and with her case on the floor across the room, it hardly seemed worth the effort. It wasn’t as if he had never seen her naked before, and if she was okay with it, she was sure he would be, too.

She dropped her towel on the floor and climbed under the covers, her mind going soft and fuzzy as the painkillers started to do their job.

At some point she heard the bathroom door open and heard Ash moving around in the room, then she felt the covers shift, and she could swear she heard Ash curse under his breath. It seemed as though it was a long time before she felt the bed sink under his weight, or maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her. But finally she felt him settle into bed, his arm not much more than an inch from her own, its heat radiating out to touch her.

She drifted back to sleep and woke in the darkness with something warm and smooth under her cheek. It took a second to realize that it was Ash’s chest. He was flat on his back and she was lying draped across him. At some point she must have cuddled up to him. She wondered if they slept like this all the time. She hoped so, because she liked it. It felt nice to be so close to him.

The next time she woke up, she could see the hint of sunlight through a break in the curtains. She was still lying on Ash, her leg thrown over one of his, and his arm was looped around her, his hand resting on her bare hip. The covers had slipped down just low enough for her to see the tent in his pajama bottoms. It looked … well … big, and for the first time since the accident she felt the honest-to-goodness tug of sexual arousal. She suddenly became ultra-aware of her body pressed against his. Her nipples pulled into two hard points and started to tingle, until it felt as though the only relief would come from rubbing them against his warm skin. In fact, she had the urge to rub her entire body all over his. She arched her back, drawing his leg deeper between her thighs, and as she did, her thigh brushed against his erection. He groaned in his sleep and sank his fingers into the flesh of her hip. Tingles of desire shivered straight through to her core.

It felt so good to be touched, and she wanted more; unfortunately, the more turned on she became, and the faster her blood raced through her veins, the more her head began to throb. She took a deep breath to calm her hammering heart. It was clear that it would be a while before she was ready to put her body through the stress of making love.

That didn’t make her want Ash any less, and it didn’t seem fair to make him keep waiting, after having already gone through months of abstinence, when there was no reason why she couldn’t make him feel good.

Didn’t she owe him for being so good to her? For sticking by her side?

Melody looked at the tent in his pajamas, imagined putting her hand inside, and was hit with a sudden and overwhelming urge to touch him, a need to please him that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside, almost like a shadowy memory, hazy and distant and just out of reach. It had never occurred to her before, but maybe being intimate with him would jog her memory.

She slid her hand down his taut and warm stomach, under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. She felt the muscle just below the skin contract and harden under her touch. She moved lower still, tunneling her fingers through the wiry hair at the base. He was so warm there, as if all the heat in his body had trickled down to pool in that one spot.

She played there for just a few seconds, drawing her fingers back and forth through his hair, wondering what was going on in his head. Other than the tensing of his abdomen and the slight wrinkle between his brows, he appeared to be sleeping soundly.

When the anticipation became too much, she slid her hand up and wrapped it around his erection. The months without sex must have taken their toll because he was rock hard, and as she stroked her way upward, running her thumb along the tip, it was already wet and slippery.

She couldn’t recall ever having done this before—though she was sure she had, probably more times than she could count—but she inherently seemed to know what to do, knew what he liked. She kept her grip firm and her pace slow and even, and Ash seemed to like it. She could see the blood pulsing at the base of his throat and his hips started to move in time with her strokes. She looked up, watching his face. She could tell he was beginning to wake up, and she wanted to see his expression when he did.

His breath was coming faster now and his head thrashed from one side to the other, then back again. She was sure that all he needed was one little push.

She turned her face toward his chest, took his nipple in her mouth, then bit down. Not hard enough to leave a mark, only to arouse, and it worked like a charm. A groan ripped from Ash’s chest and his hips bucked upward, locking as his body let go. His fingers dug into her flesh, then he relaxed and went slack beneath her.