Home > Taming Lily (The Fowler Sisters #3)(20)

Taming Lily (The Fowler Sisters #3)(20)
Author: Monica Murphy

You sneak into her room and you have instant access to the laptop. It’s gotta be in there. Get inside Lily and then grab the laptop. Everything you want, all at once.

Right. I have to do this. There’s really no other choice.

I sneak onto the lanai, holding my breath as I approach the French doors. They’ll be locked, but I can peek through the glass and see if there’s any movement inside. Leaning in close but not touching anything, I do exactly that, squinting against the reflection of the moon off the clean glass, trying to see something, anything that’ll make me turn tail and get the hell out of here.

There’s nothing. No lights on, no movement, no Lily in sight. She’s in her bedroom. She’s asleep.

I can almost guarantee it.

Cursing under my breath, I stride across the lanai, following along the building until I reach the sliding glass doors. One side of the curtains is drawn back, allowing me a glimpse inside the bedroom. The bed is huge, covered in white, and I see the form of a body beneath the comforter, tucked in tight.

Blissfully unaware that I’m watching her.

I reach out and curl my fingers around the handle, close my eyes, and count to three.

One … I shouldn’t do this.

Two … I need to walk. Now.

Three … My hand tugs on the handle and the screen door glides open, whisper soft.

Almost as if I never opened it at all.

I take a deep breath and step inside the quiet room, pulling the screen door closed behind me. It doesn’t even make a sound—nothing like the screen door at my parents’ place, which screeches on its hinges like an old witch’s laugh.

The sound of soft breathing reaches my ears and I stand at the foot of the bed, staring down at the figure lying on her side, buried beneath the fluffy white comforter. The air conditioner is on despite the open screen door and it’s frigid in the room. A fan swirls overhead, stirring the ice-cold air, and I shiver, stuffing my hands in my pockets as I stare at Lily.

She shifts, almost as if she knows she’s being watched, and I take a couple of steps back, panic nearly making me run into the dresser. She throws her leg over the comforter, nudging the fabric so it’s tucked between her legs, and I realize she has nothing on.

Lily is fucking naked, just like I described in my fantasy.

I swipe a hand across my face, leave it covering my mouth as I stare at her, contemplating my next move.

Go, asshole. Before you do something really stupid and scare the shit out of her. Next thing you know she’s calling security, they’re calling the police, and they’re arresting your ass for stalking—and you’re fucked for life.

But I don’t leave. Instead, I step closer to the bed, coming around to the side closest to where she’s sleeping, my gaze never leaving her. The moon’s light shines into the room, illuminating her in a soft glow, and I’m fascinated. I watch the rise and fall of her body as she breathes deeply, her parted lips plump and alluring even when she’s asleep. I listen to the sound of her soft, even breathing. Her eyes are closed, thick eyelashes like dark little fans lying across her skin.

She looks peaceful. So beautiful that the urge to go to her, to slip beneath the covers and join her, is so strong I almost do it.

But not yet. I need to rationalize this first. Though it’s nothing close to rational, being in this room with her uninvited. I’m breaking the fucking law. I should leave.

I don’t.

My cell phone is set on silent and my wallet is in my back pocket, my room’s key card tucked safely inside. I brought nothing else with me beyond the clothes I’m wearing and the shoes on my feet. I could easily strip in silence and climb into bed with her like some sort of nut job, explore her body with my hands and mouth and fucking teeth, waking her up in the best possible way. Then I’d finally slide deep inside her, fuck her hard, fuck her deep until we’re both coming with low groans.

I’d have to be quiet. Stealthy, if I’m really going through with it.

No way are you going through with it, asshole.

My smug side rises up, ready for the challenge.

Watch me. It’s what she wants. You’ve got nothing to worry about.

I really hate that guy sometimes. He gets my ass in trouble.

Deciding the hell with it, I take off my shirt and toss it on the floor. Undo the button snap on my cargoes and carefully pull down the zipper, thankful it’s quiet. Until I’m standing in her bedroom with just my blue boxer briefs on, my entire body on fire at the thought of what I’m about to do.

I go around to the other side of the bed, the one that’s empty, and I carefully, quietly pull back the covers. She doesn’t move. Her back is still to me and I can definitely confirm that she has nothing on. She sleeps naked.

Approval wholeheartedly given.

Without another thought I slide into bed with her, pulling the covers up over me. I lie there for a minute, stiff as a board, holding my breath, not wanting her to wake up and freak out. Because she absolutely should freak out. She has to, despite what she said to me earlier. No way did she really mean that, wanting me to sneak into her room. Maybe it was more like a dare, her wanting to see if I’d be crazy enough to make her supposed fantasy come true.

Like the dumbass I am, I fell for it. This girl … makes me do stupid shit. I’m a thinker, a planner, and she’s turned me spontaneous. Something I never believed I could be.

She shifts in her sleep, sticking her ass out straight toward me almost provocatively, and all rational thought seeps out of my brain. I become nothing but primitive urges, resting my hand on her ass, smoothing my palm over her soft skin, intoxicated with the feel of her, the smell of her, the knowledge that she’s lying next to me, oblivious and vulnerable to whatever I want to do to her.

   
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