Anywhere With You by Britney King Read Free Book Online Page A

next to me. She reached for my arm and placed it just below her rib cage. I felt the warmth of her body and I wanted to fuck her, I really did. But luckily, I have major self-restraint. I knew when to play my cards and when to hold ‘em.
    “Jack?” she whispered.
    “Hm?”
    “Aren’t you, though? Technically…sleeping with a drunken woman?” she remarked as she pushed her finger into my chest.
    I smile and I pulled her in a little closer.
    “No,” I said. “I’m wide awake.”
     

     
    With the morning light came clarity and soberness, and there we were—tangled up in each other. I opened my eyes and checked the time on the clock opposite the bed. 7:30 AM. She said she would call him early. Not that I cared. What I did care about, however, was her keeping her word. So I shook her gently until she stirred. When she didn’t immediately open her eyes, I nudged her again. “What time are we supposed to meet what’s-his-name?” Admittedly, I liked the way ‘we’ sounded.
    She opened her eyes then and squinted to see the clock. Her face twisted, and she went from waking up slowly to waking all at once. Then, the next thing I knew, her mouth was on mine. I pulled away slightly. This isn’t like her. No, wait…this is exactly like her. “We need to get this over with,” she said, breathless.
    “That’s very presumptuous of you,” I replied, appearing confused even though I wasn’t.
    “So what.” She grinned and then added a slight shrug for good measure. Next, she was climbing on top of me and tugging my shirt over my head. You know how people say, ‘it just happened.’ Well, this was sort of like that. Only it didn’t just happen. We’d both—clearly or not so clearly—made the decision that it was what we wanted, although neither of us wanted to discuss it. All of a sudden, I was kissing her from head to toe, and I was slipping off her clothes, and then she was pulling me inside of her, and oh, fuck, this was really happening.
    And, happen, it did. But it was rushed sex. The kind that’s full of passion, sloppy, and still decent—but not as good as it could’ve been had we taken our time. I’d wanted to take my time, but a part of me was afraid she’d change her mind. And for that, I knew I’d hate myself a little in the end.
    I realize I probably shouldn’t have had sex with her. But this time she was sober. Also, I’m a guy, not an idiot, and when you’re a guy and there’s a beautiful woman in your bed offering herself up to you, you don’t say no. That’s just not the way guys work—even those of us with self-control.
    Women, on the other hand, act with their emotions. They go through with things if they feel the moment is right and regret it later. Men, we almost never regret sex. We regret other things. But rarely the sex.
    Amelie dug her nails into my back as I finished, just shortly after she had, and we both lay there, out of breath, neither of us willing to break the silence.
    Although, this time, it would be Amelie who spoke first. Just as it should have been. After all, she’s the one who started this. I simply finished it. “You know, Jack…” she said, her voice surprisingly playful, “that really wasn’t your best.”
    I turned to face her. She grinned and I took her chin in my hand. “Then I guess we’ll just have to do it again…” I said, partly testing her.
    She understood it was more of a question than a statement.
    “We’ll see,” she answered in a non-committal tone. Then she smiled.
    Only that smile was quickly wiped right off her face by a knock at the door. She bolted straight up, covering herself, her face losing all of its color.
    “It’s just housekeeping,” I tried to assure her.
    Her eyes trailed to the clock. There was another knock. She jumped out of bed and looked at me. Her eyes grew wider. “Shit, I think it’s Ian,” she whispered through gritted teeth.
    “I got that,” I said as I stood and pulled on my pajama pants.
    “Oh, my