They spent the day lounging around his hotel room, drinking coffee and chatting. That was until she accidentally spilled coffee all down her front. She hissed in pain as the hot liquid quickly soaked through her layer of protective clothing.
"It's okay. The hotel has a dry cleaning service. Just go into the bedroom and grab something and I'll get your shirt to the cleaners before the stain has a chance to set in."
She moved into his bedroom, stripping down to her underwear and sticking her hand and clothes out the door to him. "There are sweat pants in the bottom drawer; they have a draw string so they should probably fit." He looked down at the clothes in his hand, "The coffee got on your jeans as well?"
She nodded before realizing that he couldn't see her through the door, "Yes." she responded simply.
"Okay, you get changed; I'll be back in a few minutes."
A few minutes actually turned into twenty; by the time he made it back to the suite he was surprised to see his bedroom door partially open. He reasoned that she couldn't still be changing after all this time, unless she had a shower in which case there would be steam coming through from the on suite bathroom, which there wasn't. And if she was finished why was she still in the bedroom and not in the outer living space.
He entered the bedroom and got his answer. He smothered his groan at the sight before him. Sara Sidle lay stretched out on his bed, wearing his blue dress shirt, reading from his book of Shakespeare sonnets.
He just stared at her, unable to say a thing. She looked up, having been well aware of his presence since he walked into the room. "C'mere." She beckoned, patting the space of bed next to her.
And without conscious thought his legs were propelling him to her. He sat down heavily beside her, unsure of what she wanted, unsure of what he was willing to give her. She snuggled into his side, handing over the book. "Read to me." She whispered, yet another request he couldn't deny.
He read her his favourite sonnets, and she listened, a peaceful smile planted on her lips. Until he realized she had fallen asleep on him again. He chuckled down at her, this was becoming a habit. Not a bad one in his books though, if a gorgeous woman wanted to fall asleep on his arm, who was he to complain? Especially a woman with Sara's legs. He longed to run his hands up and down the length of them, revel in the passion between them.
He sighed, silently willing himself to get a handle on his treacherous thoughts. He hugged her against his side, suddenly thinking that a mid day nap wasn't a bad idea at all.