Guarding Sophie by Julie Brannagh

nightstand on for her. He was already in the bed. She tried not to stare at his tanned, smooth chest as he reached out to spread the blankets down for her. “I wasn’t sure which side you’d like,” he said.
    â€œThis is fine.”
    â€œDon’t you need to use the bathroom?” she asked.
    â€œIt can wait,” he said.
    She scrambled up on a surprisingly tall mattress and pulled the blankets up to her chest as she sank into the pillows he’d propped up for her.
    â€œI should have asked you if you wanted to go downstairs and have a glass of wine or a snack,” he said.
    She rolled over to face him. “I really loved meeting your friends, but maybe another time,” she said.
    There were so many things she wanted to say, but she wasn’t sure where to start. He was feet away from her. This was supposed to be two friends getting some badly needed sleep, but her heart beat faster as she wondered if he was naked in the bed. He wouldn’t strip off all his clothes in front of her. Would he?
    She felt her face getting hot as she reached over to shut off the lamp on the nightstand.
    â€œYou don’t need the light, do you?”
    â€œNope. I’m good,” he said.
    Seconds later, the only illumination in the room was the still-burning fire.
    â€œShould we be sleeping while it’s still burning?” she said.
    â€œIt’s not going to hurt us. There’s a screen in front of the fireplace.” His hand brushed hers under the blankets, and she jumped. “Sorry.”
    â€œI—I wasn’t expecting that.”
    He reached out and took her hand. “Maybe we should get some sleep. You must be exhausted.”
    â€œIt was a pretty crazy day,” she said. He was close, she wanted him, and she couldn’t seem to do anything about it.
    He leaned closer to her. “Hey. Give me a kiss, and we’ll say goodnight.”
    His mouth was soft on hers, the most fleeting of kisses. She craved more. Maybe he didn’t. His arms wrapped around her. He reached up to smooth the hair off her face.
    â€œGoodnight, sweet Sophie,” he said.
    It came out in a rush. All the years she’d wondered what might have happened between them instead of what didn’t, the fact he was with her in a big, soft bed in the most beautiful room she’d ever stayed in, the reality that she might never have another night like this. She wanted him. Maybe she should say so.
    â€œI want to kiss you,” she said and pushed him onto his back. She braced herself on her hands so she could look into his face. He stroked one big hand down her back, slowly.
    â€œOkay,” he said. She was lying on him, but he didn’t seem to object. She could feel the cotton shorts he wore against her upper thighs.
    â€œYou’re fine with that?”
    â€œHell yes.” She saw his grin in the firelight. She ran her fingers through the thick, wavy espresso-brown tumble of his hair. She reached under her pillow to grab the little foil packet she’d stashed there when she got into the bed and waved it at him a bit. His eyes sparkled.
    â€œI have some too,” he said. He reached up to stroke her hair. “Are you telling me we’re about to use at least one of them?”
    â€œYes,” she said, and to her surprise, he rolled her onto her back, tipped her chin up, and sealed his mouth over hers with one smooth motion. Their tongues tangled until she told herself it wasn’t a race. They had all night. And she’d wanted to kiss him for years now.
    She tasted the beer he’d had a while ago as he explored her mouth. She wrapped her arms around him and snaked one leg around his. He was muscular but slender; his job required speed more than bulk. She pulled him into her with both hands.
    His voice was low and amused. “You know I’m going to have to kiss every last one of those freckles on your nose.”
    â€œThere’s more all over