Separation Anxiety Read Online Free PDF Page B

like those perfect feather pillows you only ever find at the nicest hotels. I had the sudden urge to throw the man next to me down on the bed, but I restrained myself. Unfortunately, nothing seemed appropriate about me jumping him while I was still married and he’d simply invited me over to lend a friendly ear.
    I walked toward the bed and ran my fingertips along the wood of the headboard that was connected to a matching wooden frame and footboard. It was beautiful, simple elegance with its intricate arabesque design.
    I heard his sharp intake of breath as we both stared at the bed, and his breathing then became labored. “Is this where the magic happens?” I teased, and he glanced over at me, brow furrowed.
    “What, exactly, do you think I do in my spare time?” he asked. I couldn’t put my finger on his tone, but he didn’t seem pleased that I thought he was a player.
    The vodka did the answering for me. “I’ve just heard that you like the ladies.”
    “I do like the ladies,” he said. “But I don’t bring them here.”
    What?
    “What?” I voiced that same damn question in my head as earlier. This man was certainly full of surprises.
    “My home is mine. I don’t bring women here.”
    I gazed at that bed that looked like absolute heaven. “So you’re saying it’s never happened in here?”
    He looked at the bed, too. “You’re the first woman aside from my mother who has ever even seen my bed.”
    I looked at him with wide eyes. “Seriously?”
    His eyes moved slowly from the bed to meet mine. “Seriously.”
    Well.
    I swallowed loudly.
    “Why?” I squeaked.
    “Why what?”
    “Why hasn’t a woman seen this before?”
    “I told you. I don’t bring women here. I’m not saying that I haven’t had my fun, but I go where the fun is. You feel me?”
    Oh, I certainly wanted to feel him.
    I nodded.
    He broke the awkwardness by walking toward the bathroom. Again, I swore I saw him readjust himself in his pants, and he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.
    “Here’s the master bathroom,” he said, and I followed him into another impressive room. This one had countertops that matched the travertine on the floor, a snail shower, and a huge soaker tub that I could spend days in.
    The tour ended in one of the guest rooms, the one closest to the master bedroom. “This will be your room tonight,” he said. The queen bed looked comfortable, and I saw more wooden furniture in this room. It wasn’t much of a stretch to assume he’d created all of the pieces himself. He really was talented.
    “Perfect,” I said. “Thank you.”
    “Let’s hang on the couch for awhile. Let me just change out of my Central shirt. What do you want to sleep in?” he asked, gesturing to my clothes, and I suddenly remembered that this hadn’t been a planned sleepover and all I had with me was my purse and the clothes on my back.
    I shivered, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I was cold or if it was because I was standing in Jesse Drake’s house.
    “Pajama pants are fine, and a t-shirt. Long-sleeved if you’ve got one.”
    “Coming right up,” he said with a smile.
    We walked together to the kitchen, and I waited there while he went and grabbed my requested clothes for me.
    He came back a moment later, still in his jeans and school polo shirt, and handed me the clothes. “Thanks,” I said.
    “Go change and I’ll meet you back here.”
    I followed his directions, and I took my time. I went into the bathroom and inspected my face. The four drinks I had consumed had left me somewhat flushed, but, then again, it could have just been because I was in Jesse’s house. Even though we were apparently getting ready for bed, I freshened my make-up. If I was going to spend time in Jesse’s house, he deserved for me to look my best.
    I changed into the navy blue pajama pants and the t-shirt he had given me that were both far too large for me. I breathed in as I pulled the shirt over my head, and it smelled like