Glimmer (Glimmer and Glow 1) - Page 37

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. As it turned out, he was right.

She was starting to realize Dylan always was.

NINE

He went from deep sleep to a groggy wakefulness. A feeling of vague dissatisfaction lingered in his consciousness. What had wakened him? His bedroom was dark. His arms were both extended, as if he’d been holding something. If a woman was in his bed—which was often enough—it was for sex. He slept alone, even with someone else in his bed. He didn’t protest at the idea of a woman sleeping over, but in Dylan’s case, that didn’t mean snuggling and spooning all night long. If a woman had other ideas about that, she soon realized her mistake and either accommodated his preferences or didn’t return.

But he had the distinct impression that he’d wanted whatever had been in his arms tonight very much. And now they were empty.

Alice.

The memory of their fevered, wild joining last night flashed across his brain. She’d turned him into a savage yet again, he recalled with an amused sense of grim acceptance. She wasn’t like anyone he’d slept with before, but then … that was stating the obvious.

He’d fallen into a deep sleep with her pressed against him, the weight of her against his chest, her scent filling his nose, her smooth, round ass nestled against his groin. The sensation had been both arousing and relaxing at once. It was a relief, the weight of her reassuring, the scent of her only adding to the reality of her. Before he’d drifted off, he’d acknowledged she’d beckon him soon from sleep, the delight of her naked, supple body pressed against him too difficult to resist.

Now he’d awakened, but the object of his desire was gone.

He sat up in bed.

“Alice?” he called tensely. The room was very dark, but he could see that the door to the bathroom was partially open. No light shone through. She wasn’t in there. She’d disappeared. The idea of Alice wandering around the house alone set alarms blaring in his head.

Shit.

He sprang up from the bed, reaching for his discarded jeans on the floor and hauling them on, nearly tripping in his haste. A cold sweat broke out on his skin.

A cry pierced the silence—an alarming confirmation of his worries. He lunged for the door.

ALICE awoke to a woman calling out in a singsong voice. Her heart jumped, sending her into instant wakefulness.

Again, that plaintive call. Despite the melodious quality, the sound made her skin crawl with dread. She sat up partially, propping herself on her elbow, panicked. Where was the door? Where was she?

It wasn’t the dim, shadowed vision of the large bedroom suite that eventually oriented her. It was the heat and the hardness of the man who lay behind her. He was on his side, his arm draped around her waist possessively. Electrical memories of what he’d done to her in this very bed barraged her mind. She was curled into his body, and it felt wonderful. A lingering sense of unreality prevailed despite her comfort, the uneasy disbelief that she’d just spent a night of wild, uninhibited sex in Dylan Fall’s bed, that the gorgeous, influential CEO of Durand was interested in her, when he could have any woman.

Yet for a split second, all she wanted to do was cuddle against his length again, to glory in his solid male strength, to forget everything else—

The amorphous voice again pierced her awareness. What was it saying? Was it a name? It sounded like a word being repeated, but it remained indistinct. If Alice had to guess, she’d have said it was possibly a two-syllable word.

For a moment, all was silent. Had it really been a voice? She knew that old buildings and houses often fooled people. Ancient pipes and ventilation, settling and creaking floors could be misinterpreted as cries or footsteps. Maybe the sound was that of a trapped animal?

“Dylan,” she whispered.

He remained unmoving. Her hesitance in waking him for such a stupid reason had hushed her, never really giving full voice to her fear and uncertainty. She slowly started to lie down again, craving Dylan’s heat and the security of his embrace. Before she could settle, she heard the cry again, the sound raising bumps along her forearms.

Carefully, she eased Dylan’s arm off her waist and rolled off the large bed. Separated from his heat, she shivered. One thing that must not be ancient in the castle: the air-conditioning. She found her discarded shorts and top in the darkness and rapidly dressed. A glowing digital clock across the room informed her it was 3:19 a.m. She’d asked Dylan to set his cell phone alarm for five a.m., plenty of time for her to sneak down to her cabin unnoticed.

Still plenty of time to set her doubts to rest about the sound she’d heard and climb back into bed with Dylan.

His bedroom door shut behind her with a muted click. Like the rest of the house, the hallway was large and dramatic, with gleaming mahogany wainscoting, arched ceilings, elegant ivory, dark blue, and gold wallpaper, and several ornate carved doors to the right and left of her. A few dim wall sconces lighted it. She turned in the opposite direction of the grand staircase.

All was quiet now, except for the pounding of her heart in her ears.

She was being stupid. She should go back to bed and the haven of Dylan’s arms.

Just to the end of the hallway, that’s as far as she’d go. She could make out a large gold mirror set above a gleaming wooden chest with drawers. The sconces’ dim lighting didn’t fully penetrate the shadows here. She touched the smooth surface of the console, grounding herself. Her reflection looked indistinct and ghostlike in the dark mirror.

The woman called out to the left of her, louder this time. Alice whipped her head around and gripped tighter at the edge of the chest, the shivers rippling beneath her skin feeling like dread itself taking weight. It definitely was a woman. And this time, she’d heard the warmth of her tone, a sort of light, playful quality, like a mother speaking to her baby or a small child.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt her heart beating this fast, as if the organ itself recognized some primal, atavistic fear that her brain couldn’t comprehend.

Tags: Beth Kery Glimmer and Glow Erotic
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