Bachelor Untamed - Brenda Jackson [34]
She turned off the light to leave the room, when her gaze traveled to the window. She then recalled what Uriel had said about not being able to sleep sometimes at night, and that one of those nights he had been outside, sitting on the porch, and had seen her at the window, wearing a nightie.
Was he outside now, sitting on the porch? Restless, edgy, possibly even a bit horny? What would he do if she appeared at the window, pretended she didn’t know he was there and started removing her clothes, piece by piece? Feeling naughty, wild, with a burst of erratic hormones she hadn’t realized she had until now, she turned the light back on and moved toward the window.
She might wait and give Uriel her decision tomorrow, but she intended to send him a very intimate message tonight.
Uriel stood at the kitchen sink and wet his hands to wipe across his face. He felt hot, filled with a fiery sensation, a primal urge, that even sleeping in the nude hadn’t eased. So he had slipped into a pair of shorts to come downstairs. He glanced at the clock on the stove. It was two in the morning. He should have guessed. This restlessness, edginess, was becoming a nightly thing around this time.
As usual, he’d had his dreams, and as usual, he had awakened just seconds before joining his body with Ellie’s. Would there ever be a dream when he would complete the act and relieve himself of his misery? When would he feel what it would be like to be inside her body, have her inner muscles clench him tightly, milk him dry? He would have to settle for a dream, since it seemed she had decided an affair with him was not what she wanted. This had been day three, and he had pretty much gotten her message loud and clear. There would be no summer fling between them.
In the morning he would go over there, give her some of the fish he’d caught and offer to fry them for her. He would then tell her that he’d accepted her decision and, as nothing more than friends, they could at least enjoy each other’s company for the rest of the summer.
But during the wee hours of the night, while alone in his bed, he would continue to dream about her and to do to her in his fantasies what she refused to let him do in reality.
He crossed the darkened kitchen and headed for the back door, opened it and stepped outside. It was hot, but the cool breeze from the lake was swirling around, spraying a light mist on his naked chest. The moment he sat down in the swing he glanced next door, and his pulse rate accelerated when he saw the light was on in Ms. Mable’s bedroom. The first time in three days.
He sat there with his gaze transfixed to the window. He had told her he’d sometimes sit out here at night and look over at the window. For that reason alone, Ellie would probably not come close to the window, knowing there was a possibility that he would be watching.
But still, that didn’t stop him from sitting and staring. He figured, sitting out here, being hopeful, was a hell of a lot better going back to bed and dreaming and being disappointed.
The light went out and he mentally swore, followed by the muttering of a few choice words under his breath. This was pathetic. He had a cell phone filled with the names of a number of willing women, women he could call even now, at this hour, to initiate a long-distance booty call. Over the phone, they could engage in some pretty dirty sex talk, and he knew any one of them would follow it up with a visit to the lake by morning. Probably before the sun even came up, there would be a knock at his door. So why was he sitting here with a hard-on as big as the state of Texas?
While he was pondering that question, the light came back on in the bedroom next door. Evidently, Ellie had decided she wasn’t ready to go to bed after all. He watched, and