CHAPTER 13

BONNIE STIRRED, SUNSHINE piercing her eyelids. This time, she remembered she was not in her own bed, but at the hotel. She pulled the thick comforter over her head and blocked out the spring sunrise. Dawn was breaking earlier and earlier. With a groggy sense of mild curiosity, she wondered what time it was. She pulled the covers back off her head and turned to squint at the bedside clock.

Several things caught her attention at once, and her brain went haywire, trying to simultaneously process the massive wave of incoming details. One: While she was in bed in a hotel room, it wasn’t her hotel room. Two: On the bedside table lay a condom wrapper. Three: Next to the condom, the clock flashed 8:26 a.m. Oh, and four: She was naked.

Oh sweet, Jesus. Oh, no. This was not her hotel room, she was not wearing any clothes and … she reached for the condom wrapper, relief flooding her when she realized it had not been opened.

The digital clock blinked. 8:28.

Fresh panic replaced her momentary calm. It was Monday. Which meant she had an Introduction to Shakespeare class starting in thirty-two minutes.

8:29.

Make that thirty-one minutes.

There was no way she’d make it across town to teach her nine a.m. class. Bonnie chewed her lower lip. Even if a hoard of fairies appeared and magically got her ready in seconds, she’d never get there in time. She was officially screwed.

Her attention shifted from the clock back to the condom. Details emerged slowly, shadowy memories crawling like strange beasts from the sludge of her consciousness. This was Theo’s room. Theo’s bed. Last night, she’d made the choice to go to his suite and they’d … heat suffused her body, from toes to ears, as memories of what they’d done—or more to the point, what he’d done to her—flashed through her.

She couldn’t believe it. Part of her wanted to pretend the whole thing had been a dream, some bizarre fantasy brought on from too much beer and beef. Indigestion causing the mind to play tricks, or something. But she couldn’t blame a cheeseburger for her memories of last night with Theo.

What happened may have felt like a fantasy, but it had been all too real. And it hadn’t been in the bed. They’d done that on the hotel carpet. In here, they’d talked. Cuddled. She’d fallen asleep, cradled in his arms. And it had been wonderful.

A little too wonderful. She glanced at the clock one more time, hoping it would magically rewind. No such luck.

8:40. The little digital dots between the numbers winked saucily at her.

Apparently, it was going to be a day of firsts. First time she’d woken in another man’s bed. First time she’d ever called in sick to work. She wrestled with the nest of blankets. Tugging a sheet loose and wrapping it around her, she headed for her purse, which she’d left in the suite’s living room.

As she passed through the short hallway of the suite, the steady thrum of shower jets sounded from behind the bathroom door. Theo must be in there. Up until that moment, she hadn’t stopped to wonder where the Brit had gone—her brain was too busy playing catch-up on where she was.

Another memory slinked to the surface. An image of Theo, standing before her, bare-chested, bare-assed, bare-everything. She’d gotten into his bed and boldly ordered him to strip, watching with even more boldness as he’d crawled into bed next to her. Then he’d gotten out a condom, and the sight of that little foil packet had knocked the wind out of her sails.

What was a fun little game had suddenly become very real. Theo had sensed her hesitation. She’d felt his awareness of her change in mood—felt it in the shift of his touch, how his caresses began banking the fire instead of building it.

Bonnie swallowed and scuttled to the couch, retrieving her phone out of her purse. Plopping down, she tucked the sheet around herself and prepared to call her department’s office line. It was nearing the end of her fourth year teaching at this college, and she’d never called in sick. Not once. Ignoring the nervous flutter in her belly, she dialed.

After assuring the department secretary she’d be in tomorrow, Bonnie ended the call, giddy with relief. That wasn’t so bad. Turns out the process was much easier than she’d expected. She glanced down at her clothes strewn across the suite, then tilted an ear toward the bathroom. The water was still running. This was her chance to escape. She could get dressed and slip out the door before he was done. But she didn’t.

Feeling mildly wicked, she stayed on the couch, clutched the bedsheet with one hand, and scrolled through the messages on her phone with the other. A text from Cassie, asking her to check in later, let her know how she was doing. Two emails from Cambridge people, with links to paperwork she needed to fill out for the summer seminar. A dozen or so emails from various students making the usual excuses about why their weekend homework wasn’t done—at least they’d be thrilled she was absent from class today.

Her phone dinged, and Bonnie opened the new message. A text from Ana apologizing for having to bail on brunch yesterday.

An idea occurred to Bonnie and she quickly texted back.

Bonnie: No worries. How about today instead?

Ana: But it’s Monday.

Bonnie: I know. So what?

A second later, her phone erupted with another nineties girl-pop tune. TLC this time. Ana was calling. “Morning, Ana.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I called in sick.”

“Who is this and what have you done with the real Bonnie?” Ana demanded.

Bonnie laughed. “It’s me, really.”

“I don’t believe you. When was Shakespeare born?”

“No one knows for sure, but he was baptized on April 26, therefore most scholars agree he was born on April 23, the same date as his death. And come on, that’s too easy.”

“Okay, okay, I have no idea if that’s bullshit or not, but only you would give that answer,” Ana relented. “I can’t believe you called in sick.”

“The secretary couldn’t either.” Bonnie chuckled again, the flicker of wickedness returning. “So? Brunch?”

“Why not. Sadie is still in town, so she can come too. Does eleven work?”

“Perfect.”

The pocket door to the suite’s bathroom slid open and Theo stood there, wrapped in a fluffy hotel robe, dark hair dripping. “What’s perfect?”

You. Her mouth went dry. Eyes glued to Theo, she croaked into the phone, “I gotta go.”

“Why? What’s going on? What’s wrong with your voice?” Ana demanded.

“Nothing.” Bonnie cleared her throat. “See you soon.” Over the sounds of Ana’s protests, Bonnie ended the call and switched her phone to silent mode.

“Who was that?” Theo asked, crossing the room toward her. Wet, his thick wavy hair had become a crown of ringlets. It was adorable. He was adorable.

“My friend Ana. You met her last summer. Remember?”

“Ana … right. Black hair. Tall. And, uh…” He floundered.

“And big boobs.” She nodded. “Yep, that’s her.” She glanced down at the sheet wrapped around her significantly less impressive chest and sighed dramatically. “Some people are just blessed.”

His gaze slid in the direction of her bottom. “You have your own assets.”

“Nice choice of words there.”

“Do you have to leave now?” He joined her on the couch and met her gaze, blue eyes intent and hopeful. Stay, they seemed to say.

“Not yet,” she hedged, a wave of shyness rolling over her. She was wearing nothing but a bedsheet, and she didn’t think he had anything on under that bathrobe. A bead of water dripped from a lock of hair curling by his ear, slipping down his cheek and into the line of dark scruff along his jaw. She reached a hand up and brushed at the droplet. His shadow beard scraped beneath the pads of her fingertips, making a delicious rasping sound.

“Sorry. I took a shower but didn’t shave yet.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bonnie said, stroking her finger down his jaw, along his chin, and up to the other side of his face. “I like it.”

“You do?”

“Mm-hmm.” Touching him was easing her nerves. She brushed her thumb over his mouth, relishing the contrast between rough cheek and smooth lips.

“What else do you like?”

“Well, you know I like your dimples.”

He smiled, and she closed her eyes, refusing to fall victim to his charms.

“Coward.” He chuckled. “What else?”

She cracked one eye open. “Your accent.”

He cocked his head at her. “Really? Logan says I sound pompous and stuffy.”

“Maybe I like pompous and stuffy.” She dropped her hands from his face and fiddled with the fuzzy neckline of his robe. “I like how smart you are. How loyal. How kind.”

He was quiet then and didn’t ask her for more. But in her head, she continued her list as she stroked his shoulders. I like how you look at me, how it makes me feel. I like the way you touch me, soft and hard at the same time. I like it when you kiss me, fierce and hungry. She slid her hands down his arms. I like all the contrasts in you, especially the savage beast you hide under that calm polite exterior. She fiddled with the belt on his robe. Only a little bit of cotton separated her from his body. His wet, naked body.

Theo placed his hand on top of hers. “Bonnie?”

She pulled her attention away from their hands to meet his eyes. “Hmm?”

“May I kiss you?” His focus shifted, dark sinful lashes lowering as he dropped his gaze to her mouth.

She nodded. “Yes.”

The word had barely left her lips before his mouth was on hers. Hard and soft just as she remembered, taking what she was willing to give. Hot, fierce, and possessive, claiming what she offered. She parted her lips for him, inviting him in. His tongue thrust inside, and she welcomed the invasion, opening her mouth wider, sucking him deeper. He growled in response—a rough, husky vibration low in his throat.

He continued to kiss her, his hands drifting up and down her back before settling at her waist. He pulled her onto his lap, bringing her flush against him. The tip of his tongue traced the curve of her lips, and she knew he was asking for more than a kiss. He was so close, their bodies pressed so tightly together, she could feel everything. Was distinctly aware of every inch of the thick hard length of his erection as it rubbed between her thighs.

She relaxed, opening her legs, and he growled again, deeper, lower. The masculine sound undid her. She moaned, feeling him grow harder beneath her while everything inside her went soft, melting like butter on a hot scone.

Tugging the sheet off her, he shifted his hips, thrusting up. She gasped and gripped his shoulders, her nipples tightening, stiff and sensitive against the feathery tickle of his robe. Then his mouth was there, the scratch of his stubble against her breasts a sweet sting lighting her nerve endings on fire. She arched her back. Again, he took what she offered. Devouring her breasts with lips and teeth and tongue.

Bonnie shuddered. Liquid heat pulsed between her legs as he licked and sucked. He pulled her breast deep into his hot, wet mouth and her body went tight, muscles clenching. Oh God, oh sweet God, I’m going to … Her head fell back, and she clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as pleasure ripped through her. He held her, supporting her as spasms rocked her body.

The rough saw of Theo’s breath filled her ears as she stilled, coming back to herself. His face was pressed into her neck, arms braced against her back. “Theo?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

She shifted on his lap, and his breathing grew harsher. A thread of guilt wove through Bonnie as she realized what his problem was. “I’m in the lead,” she said.

“Come again?” He growled against her neck.

She giggled. Had he managed the double entendre on purpose? “Not until you do.” She slid backward off his lap, planting her knees on the floor. She reached for the belt of his bathrobe. “By my count, we’re at two to zero.”

“This isn’t a competition,” he mumbled, watching her hands. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know,” she agreed, tugging the belt loose. “But you’ve given me two orgasms, and I’ve left you, um…” The robe fell open, his cock springing forward, making her point for her.

“You don’t have to do this.” He met her gaze, eyes steady, but his voice was low and reedy, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I want to do this.”

He began to protest again, but she wrapped her fingers around him, and his words abruptly ended on a groan.

She wrapped her other hand around him too, moving her fingers up and down his shaft, learning the feel of him. Theo groaned again. Bonnie glanced up, his eyes were closed, head lolling against the back of the couch. She returned her attention to his cock and wet her lips, considering. Her belly quivered nervously. She’d been having sex a long time, but oral was not something she’d done often. She and Gabe had tried it once or twice, but it hadn’t really gone well, and they’d never tried again.

Maybe if you’d done a better job he wouldn’t have needed to …

No. Bonnie silenced the insidious whisper. She wasn’t going there. Especially not now. Lowering her head, she took a tentative lick. Theo moaned. Encouraged, she licked him again, circling her tongue around his tip. Then she opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock.

“That feels good.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, urging her forward, guiding her mouth down his length. “So fucking good.”

Eager to please him, to make him feel at least half as good as he’d made her feel, Bonnie followed his lead, taking more of him into her mouth, her hands dropping to the base of his cock. She gripped him tighter, and he jerked, hips thrusting, going deep. She gagged, tried to catch a breath, and then choked, sputtering as she fell backward.

“Bonnie?” Theo gasped, his voice rough and confused.

Stomach hurtling toward her throat, Bonnie scrambled to her feet, overcome with embarrassment as she vividly recalled why this particular activity hadn’t worked for her in the past. Cheeks flaming, throat burning, she refused to glance Theo’s way as she raced to the bathroom.