Rewritten (The Bound Series Book 7)

by Bronwyn Green

  “Absolutely. Of course. I can totally get you coffee. After all, I’m your assistant, and assistants get things the people they’re assisting need.” Her words came out in a breathless rush. “Besides, I could really use a cup, too.”

  She seemed grateful at the suggestion that she leave the room. Or maybe she was just as relieved as he was to have something to do to break up the awkwardness that was ballooning between them. But she moved too quickly, catching her foot on the base of his chair and stumbled forward. He dropped his clothes. Steadying her, his grip settling on her hips as she caught herself against his chest. Her small hands slid against his damp skin, feeling like brands against his flesh. And he wanted more. So much more.

  Her gasp reverberated through him as she jumped back, bumping into the chair. Hands still on her hips, he made sure she had her balance back before he released her, then, needing to hide the effects of her touch, he bent to pick up his clothes.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said as she straightened, keeping her gaze averted. “I guess being overtired makes me clumsy. I’ll go find all the coffee for both of us.”

  “Thank you.” He reached for his wallet laying on the desk. “Let me grab some cash for you.”

  “No need. You bought dinner last night, remember?” Before he could answer, she added, “I probably won’t be back until after your panel starts, but I’ll get it to you—just as soon as I can.”

  With a wave, she darted back to her room, leaving him half-hard, reliving the sensation of her palms on his skin.

  He saw her only once that day between their awkward morning encounter and leaving their rooms to catch the shuttle to the airport. She’d brought him two huge cups of black coffee and some sort of giant sticky pastry she’d called a bear claw. Now, his stomach was practically eating itself, and if they were lucky, they’d have just enough time to grab a few snacks after they made it through security.

  His panels had gone well, but in the back of his mind, he’d worried all day that Eliza would change her mind and make good on her resignation. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it without her. But he was honest enough to admit to himself that he didn’t want to. She’d wormed her way under his skin in a ridiculously short period of time. He was positive it wasn’t intentional, though. There was something about the way she held herself apart from people. She wasn’t cold—at all. It was more like there was a multilevel force field around her. A person could get in, but only so far. He wondered what it would take for her to let him all the way in. As much as she’d dismissed his earlier offer, he suspected that sexual intimacy would be easier for her than emotional intimacy.

  And as much as he’d love to have both of those things from her, he wouldn’t push her. If she wanted to take him up on his offer, if she wanted more between them, she’d have to be the one to make that decision. She’d have to be the one to let him know. Even if it killed him to wait. Even if she never wanted more than what they had.

  He glanced down at the top of her head where she stood in front of him in the security line. His stomach growled loudly—loudly enough that she turned and grinned at him as she kicked off her shoes and loaded her belongings into several plastic bins and sent them down the conveyor belt to be x-rayed.

  “Did you eat anything besides the bear claw today?”

  He shook his head. “No time.”

  She frowned. “I’m sorry. I should have thought to grab something else for you, too.”

  “I should have budgeted my time better.”

  “Said every writer I’ve ever met.”

  He laughed. “What about you? Did you get anything to eat?”

  “No. I ended up taking care of a few things for Barbara. She wanted them handled while we were still on the same continent.”

  Frowning, he dumped his own stuff in the plastic bins. “What happened to spontaneity?”

  “I spontaneously did work for Terra?”

  His frown deepened. “That doesn’t count.”

  “It wasn’t in my planner,” she sing-songed as she stepped into the body scanner.

  A smile spread across his face as he watched her. She seemed in a much better place than she had this morning or last night, and they were back to being comfortable with one another.

  After he’d been scanned, he caught up to her while she was putting on her shoes.

  “You’re awfully perky for someone who didn’t sleep last night. Did you manage a bit of a lie down, today?”

  “Nope. This is what a second wind looks like when I’m overtired. Let’s hope it lasts until we board or you’re going to be carrying me onto the plane.”

  It was easy to imagine holding her close. And he needed to put that thought out of his head. It wasn’t going to help anything.

  They’d managed to grab a quick bite to eat at one of the short-staffed, overpriced chain restaurants nearest their gate. It wasn’t great, but it was food. Angus wasn’t sure if it was because she’d gotten something in her stomach or because her second wind had finally run out, but as soon as they’d gotten on the plane, Eliza looked ready to drop.

  The flight attendant showed them to their seats. Eliza squinted at her boarding pass in surprise. “I still can’t believe Terra upgraded us to first class. That’s a first. I wonder if it’s because it’s a transatlantic flight.”

  Actually, he’d upgraded them to first class. If they were going to be on a plane for that long, he wanted to be comfortable. And after her last flight, he didn’t want her to have to sit next to another wankstain, so Angus made sure that she had the window seat. But he wasn’t going to mention any of that. Let her think it was Terra.

  Eliza perked up during takeoff, but as soon as they reached cruising altitude, she was nodding off, her head dropping forward then bouncing against his shoulder.

  She turned to him, eyes wide and apologetic. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re exhausted. I’m exhausted.” He lifted up his arm as if he’d put it around her but paused and said, “I think we’ll both sleep better if your head isn’t bobbing around. Despite my previous offer, this isn’t anything but one friend offering another friend a place to curl up so they can both get some sleep.”

  She yawned then looked longingly at his shoulder. “You won’t be weirded out by it? Or uncomfortable?”

  “As long as you don’t drool on me. At least, not a lot.”

  She laughed as she rubbed her eyes and yawned again. “No promises.”

  “If you’re okay with it, I think we’d both be a hell of a lot more comfortable.”

  Eliza nodded and raised the armrest that separated them as he settled his arm around her, resting his hand on the curve of her waist. She tentatively nestled into his side with her head on his shoulder and her hands tucked beneath her chin. In under five minutes, she was fast asleep. Her breathing had deepened and evened out, and one of her arms had fallen slack across his stomach. She rubbed her face back and forth against the side of his chest, and he chuckled, wondering if her nose itched. Then, she burrowed deeper against him and slid the hand on his stomach under his shirt, as if she were cold.

  Suddenly, he was back where he’d been that morning with the sensation of her skin burning his, and he wanted more. He wanted her touching him intentionally. He wanted to touch her, too, but he wasn’t about to do it while she was asleep. He wanted her to long for his touch the way he craved hers.

  She shivered, and he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her deeper into his warmth. He’d always been told he threw off a lot of body heat. Most of his former lovers had enjoyed that. It seemed that Eliza did too as she snuggled into him.

  Catching a flight attendant’s attention, he asked for a blanket. When she returned with it, she helped tuck it in around them. Once the blanket was on, Eliza relaxed a bit and sighed contentedly, seeming to fall into a deeper sleep. Happy to simply hold her, Angus closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off with her solid warmth in his arms as he breathed in her sweetly sp
icy scent, all the while telling himself he was the stupidest of fucks for falling for a woman who refused to even be honest with him about who she was. Christ, he was an eejit.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eliza slowly surfaced from the ocean of sleep. Blinking, she froze, trying to remember where she was. As the fog drifted from her brain, she became aware of several things in horrible dawning succession.

  She’d slept better than she had in years.

  Her pillow was hard but weirdly comfortable.

  It also smelled great and was toasty warm.

  Her pillow was made of...skin.

  Her pillow had both arms around her and rested its head on hers.

  Her pillow was Angus.

  Worse—or better—she couldn’t decide, she had one hand shoved up his shirt where it was resting on his chest, his heart beating steadily, comfortingly against her palm. Her other hand had snaked around his back and was also under his shirt, her fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his jeans and underwear.

  What the fuck was the matter with her? She’d basically groped him in his sleep. It wasn’t as if she was palming his ass or anything, but her hand was in his pants. In. His. Pants.

  She started to slowly and carefully withdraw when he shifted, muttering in his sleep and tugging her closer. He nuzzled her hair, strands of it catching on his stubble, pulling ever so slightly, then pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of her head.

  Her eyes flew up to his face. He was still fast asleep. Her chest ached with the tenderness of his unconscious action. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had held her so gently. Moisture burned her eyes at the realization of how much she missed this kind of comfort—how much she missed this kind of contact with another human being. She tried to blink away the stinging sensation, not wanting to wake him by dripping tears on him. She didn’t want to explain why she was crying—especially not while her hand was still down his pants. This was already going to be awkward when he woke.

  He twitched in his sleep, and her elbow brushed across his groin. She stiffened. It was clear that he was hard. Morning erection, she supposed. Though, she had no clue what time it actually was. She glanced down at his lap. The blanket he must have covered them with during the night had slipped down, and in the dim glow coming from the reading light of the person behind her, she could make out that he was not only hard but also huge. Though, it could be the angle, she supposed. Or proximity.

  She mentally shook her head at herself. He was her author. And her friend. She had no business thinking about the size of his cock. The annoying voice in her mind reminded her that she could probably see it for herself if she agreed to a scene with him. She rowed the annoying voice out to sea and left it on a deserted island where it would hopefully never bother her again.

  He stirred and shifted in his sleep, tightening his arms around her. She took that opportunity to slide her fingers from his pants to his back. They were still against his skin. She couldn’t bring herself to completely remove them from his body.

  If she did, that would most likely wake him up, and that would be cruel. He was exhausted, and it was better to let him sleep, the little voice said. Apparently, the little voice was either a really good swimmer, or it had lots of like-minded friends in her head. Slowly, she closed her eyes and let herself relax into his embrace.

  She must have fallen back to sleep, because when she opened her eyes, Angus was gently shaking her awake, staring down at her with those soul-seeing eyes of his.

  “We’re getting ready to land,” he murmured, arms still firmly around her.

  She tried to sit up and immediately realized that she had a huge problem. One of her hands was still up the front of Angus’ t-shirt, and the other had crept back below his waistband. Again. There was no way he didn’t know where her hands were. And there was no way she could gracefully extract herself from his embrace or his clothes without calling more attention to her wandering hands.

  Blushing profusely, she pulled her hands from the warmth of his furnace-like body, and muttered, “I am so, so sorry. I guess I got cold last night.”

  “I’m not complaining,” he said with a sweeter smile than she’d expected. “It was a nice way to wake up.”

  As she sat up straight, he slowly withdrew his arms. She missed the warmth and comfort of his embrace before he’d even fully disconnected.

  “I’m so embarrassed.” She rubbed a hand over her overheated face and barely managed to stifle her groan. The arousing scent of his skin clung to her hand, and now, it was all she could smell. It was far better than the recycled plane air, but it also made her panties uncomfortably damp. Not that damp panties were anything new around Angus, but this seemed a particularly cruel twist of fate.

  “Don’t be,” he murmured. “Sometimes, it’s easier for our bodies to seek what they need when our brains aren’t involved.”

  She snorted and busied herself by attempting to fold the blanket they’d shared. “So, you’re saying that my body needed me to shove my hands down your pants?” she quietly hissed.

  He laughed. “Pretty sure that was what my body needed.” Then, he sobered. “No, I’m just saying that maybe you needed a sense of connection with someone, and your body helped you out.”

  Despite her continued embarrassment, she eyed him skeptically.

  He shrugged. “For what it’s worth, you do seem a bit more relaxed.”

  With a start, she realized that he was right. Despite what should have been an uncomfortable sleeping position, she’d woken up well-rested and minus the throbbing tension headache at the base of her skull that she usually woke with.

  She was saved from having to respond by the captain’s announcement that they were beginning their final descent for Heathrow. Unfortunately, nearly all her tension and anxiety came rushing back. She hadn’t been here since she and Nigel had broken up.

  She knew she was being stupid. London was a huge city, and the chance that she’d see him in the five or so days that she’d be here was ridiculous. And yet, she couldn’t shake the absolute dread that was in the process of smothering her.

  The sensation of Angus peeling up each finger from where she brutally gripped the edge of the seat between them distracted her from her circling thoughts. As she watched, he slid his hand beneath hers, palm up, and laced their fingers together. Her hand tightened around his almost reflexively.

  “There,” he murmured. “Now, you can squeeze as hard as you want without the flight attendant giving you the side-eye about trashing their upholstery.”

  She glanced up at his face. His smile was kind, but his eyes were serious and searching.

  “Is this sudden tension because you really hate landings or because you’re dreading returning to the scene of your bad breakup?”

  She inhaled slowly. “So, I’m that obvious and pathetic?”

  He squeezed her hand. “You’re neither.”

  She smiled wanly at him and tried to relax as the plane angled downward.

  He leaned closer to her, his lips nearly brushing her ear. “If it makes you feel better, point him out to me if you see him, and I’ll beat the piss out of him.”

  She laughed. “Absolutely not. You need to finish that book, and I doubt you’ll be allowed to take your laptop to prison with you.”

  “So, you’re saying you’d rather have my book than my chivalry?”

  She snorted. “I’m not sure assault and battery would be classified as chivalry.”

  “Picky, picky, picky.”

  She laughed again, realizing that her anxiety had melted away. She met his gaze for a second then looked away. “You’re good at that.”

  “Making you laugh?”

  She looked at him again. “Well, that too. But I meant putting people at ease.”

  “Just trying to give you what you need.”

  Her lips parted as she stared at him, unable to make a sound. There was no hint of laughter in his eyes or playing around his mouth. She had no idea how to respond. Wh
at she really needed and what she really wanted might not be the same thing. What she really wanted was to submit to him, but that was a terrible idea. The worst, really. She forced herself to ignore his words and smirked. “When you want to put them at ease.”

  “Meaning?”

  He grinned, and she had the feeling that he knew exactly what she was doing—trying to distance herself from his comment—and it looked like he was going to let her. Again, giving her what she needed and making it nearly impossible to ignore what she wanted.

  “Meaning that, when you don’t want to, you’re exceptional at making people wish a black hole would swallow them.”

  He snorted and released her hand, stepping into the aisle to lift their belongings down from the overhead bin. “I think you’ve confused me with someone else, lass.”

  “Oh, trust me...” She slung her purse over her shoulder. “I remember our first meeting quite well.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. You were a total douchebag. Not to mention, completely intimidating.”

  He took both of their computer cases and gestured for her to step into the aisle in front of him. When she did, he leaned forward and said, “You gave no sign of being intimidated. In fact, I might have been calling you a ball-busting bitch. In my head, of course.”

  As they started creeping toward the doorway, she glanced back at him and grinned. “Of course.”

  “If it helps, I’ve revised my opinion.”

  “Dropped the bitch, and kept the rest?”

  “It’s like you know me.”

  Laughing, she turned away, and her smile faded. It was a bad idea to let herself get this comfortable with him. She knew it, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She didn’t know how, and she didn’t know when, but she was positive she was going to regret it.