“Did you take a sleeping pill again?”

He shook his head, mouth wide as he brushed his back molars.

“I like your body,” I said around a mouthful of toothbrush.

He flashed me a foamy toothpaste smile. “Likewise.”

“Can I give you head?”

He bent to spit and rinse his mouth before saying simply, “No.”

“Want to give me a quickie from behind?”

He wiped his face on a towel and then placed a peck on the top of my head. “No.”

“Handie?” I asked to his retreating form as he left the bathroom.

“No.”

I washed my face and walked out into the bedroom to join him. He was already under the covers, reading some political nonfiction book.

“I’m going to try to not be insulted that there’s a military man on the cover of that book and you just turned down a blow job.”

“Let me know how that works out for you,” he said, giving me a little wink.

Shrugging, I stripped out of my robe and stood near him, wearing a tiny mint-green thong with a skirt overlay in silk chiffon with delicate floral embroidery and matching sheer bra. Thin silken garters held up the softest nude stockings I’d ever worn.

He glanced up and did a quick double take, exhaling, “Christ,” under his breath.

“Just some comfy jammies,” I said, hopping over him and climbing under the covers. “I just love sleeping next to you when I’m wearing silk garters and these flimsy, expensive panties.”

He adjusted the pillows behind his back and returned to his book, but I counted to one hundred before he even turned his attention from one page to the next, so I could tell there was no way he was actually reading anything.

Sliding the covers down to expose my upper thighs, I curled into his side, humming. “You should feel these stockings. They’re so delicate. I bet you could just look at them and they’d rip.”

Bennett coughed, and then smiled patiently down at me. “I’m sure they would. I bought them for you, after all.”

“But I’m just not sure I should sleep in them.” I frowned thoughtfully. “Can you help me take them off?”

He hesitated for a beat, staring at his book before turning and placing it carefully on the bedside table. And then he peeled the blankets all the way off my legs and studied me in the muted light of the table lamp.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, bending to kiss my neck, my collarbone, and the top swell of my breast.

Victory exploded with adrenaline in my veins and I closed my eyes, arching my spine so he could unclasp my bra, lifting my ass so he could carefully remove the tiny skirt around my panties. But I opened my eyes, studying him as he gently peeled the stockings down my legs, planting only a single kiss on the inside of each knee.

Something was off.

When I lay only in my panties, Bennett looked up at me and smiled wickedly before grasping them and sliding them down my legs, dropping them undamaged on the floor beside the bed.

“Better?” he asked, stifling a laugh.

I glared at him, trying to burn a hole in his forehead with my eyes. “You’re a prick.”

His eyes danced. “I know.”

“Do you know how much I want to feel you on top of me? Did you not see that lingerie? It was ridiculous! You could have ripped it with your teeth!”

“It was stunning.” Bennett bent and kissed my mouth so sweetly, so fully, that my chest squeezed almost painfully in pleasure. “I know how much you want it. I want it, too.” He nodded to his shorts, where he was so hard I could see the tip of his cock pressing up from beneath the waistband. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

He reached to turn off the light, and then turned so that he was on his side facing me. “Tell me you love me.”

I ran my hands up his bare chest and into his hair. “I love you.”

“Now go to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day. The rest of the guests arrive, we rehearse our wedding, and I am one day closer to being your husband. After that, I will never deny you again.”

He kissed me slowly, all firm, warm lips, no tongue, no sounds, just his mouth on mine, sweetly sucking and soothing me until I felt serene, and doted on, and even drowsy enough to imagine I could fall asleep next to this man and not need to be worn-out from orgasms.

I woke up to an otherwise-empty bed. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, and I started to fall back asleep before remembering that Bennett wouldn’t be up working; we were in San Diego for our wedding. My heart exploded in panic and a cold, sick feeling of déjà vu crept into my stomach. What if Bennett was sick?

I bolted upright and looked at the light under the bathroom adjoining our darkened bedroom. Climbing out of bed, I moved into the main room of our suite and to the small bathroom adjoining the living area. The light under there was on, and I tiptoed forward, not sure whether I should call out to him or just go back to bed and hope that he was okay.

I blinked, taking a step backward and remembering the only other time I’d seen Bennett sick—the food poisoning incident I’d discussed with Sara earlier.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I’d asked him.

“Because the last thing I needed was you in there, watching me throw up.”

“I could have done something. You don’t have to be such a man.”

“Don’t be such a woman. What could you have done? Food poisoning is pretty lonely business.”

Resolved to leave him alone, I started to turn back to the bedroom . . .

Until I heard a quiet groan.

My heart twisted in sympathy and my pulse picked up speed. I moved to the door, putting my hand against the wood. Just as I was about to call out to him, to ask if he needed a Popsicle or some ginger ale, he moaned and sounds of pleasure escaped in his deep voice: “Oh, fuck. Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

I pulled my hand back from the door and slapped it over my mouth, stifling a gasp. Was he . . . ? Did he escape to the nonbedroom bathroom so he could. . . ?

On the other side of the door the faucet turned on, and I stared at the wood as if I could develop X-ray vision if I only concentrated hard enough. How often did he do this? Did he masturbate all the time in the middle of the night? The faucet creaked slightly as he shut off the water and I turned, bolting back into the bedroom.

I hurled myself on the mattress and yanked the covers up to my chin so Bennett wouldn’t know I’d moved from where he left me, sleeping. Sleeping while he tugged one out in the other room!

I rolled into my pillow, stifling a giggle. In the other part of the suite, the bathroom door opened, and a slice of light cut across the carpet before everything quickly went black when he flipped off the switch.

I listened intently, trying to slow my breathing as he padded across the carpet and back into the bedroom. Bennett carefully lifted the covers and slid in beside me, curling up along my side and kissing my temple.

“Love you,” he whispered, running his water-cooled hands over my too-hot skin.

I still hadn’t decided if I was going to pretend to be asleep, or bust him for this and give him endless shit, so I sleepily rolled into him, sliding my hand up and over his chest to rest on his heart. His pulse was hammering, racing, positively pounding.

Like he’d just had a sneaky, covert orgasm.

I cuddled into him, stretching close to his ear. “You didn’t even moan my name. I’m insulted.”

Beside me he froze, his hand covering mine on top of his heart. “I thought you were sleeping.”

I snorted. “Obviously.” I nibbled at his jaw. “Did you have a nice self-inflicted bathroom orgasm?”

Finally, he admitted, “Yes.”

“Why did you bother going in there? I have a hand and several orifices at the ready.”

With a laugh, he simply said, “Chloe.”

“Do you do that a lot?” I wondered if he could hear the slight edge of anxiety in my voice.

“I’ve never done it when I’m with you. I just . . .” He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my palm. “You’re naked. It’s hard to . . .” Laughing, he seemed to reconsider what he was going to say. “It’s just been hard for a few hours. I couldn’t sleep.”