The CEO's Unspoken Love Novel

Chapter 24 Eleanor POV A dull, throbbing pain penetrated my consciousness like a drill through concrete. Each pulse sent waves of discomfort radiating from my temples, and my mouth felt as if I'd spent the night chewing cotton balls. I groaned, eyes still closed, wishing I could sink back into oblivion rather than face the consequences of last night's bourbon. My hand found nothing but air as I tried to orient myself. The surface beneath me wasn't the cool sheets I expected, but something firmer, warmer... and moving with a steady rhythm.

I forced my heavy eyelids open, blinking against the morning light streaming through "the curtains we'd forgotten to close. What I saw sent a jolt of adrenaline through my system that no amount of coffee could replicate. I was sprawled across Derek's chest. His bare chest. My silk nightgown had ridden up, my legs straddling his waist. One of my hands rested on his shoulder while the other was tucked somewhere between us. Thank God he was wearing sleep pants, even if they rode dangerously low on his hips. My memory was a fragmented mess.

I recalled the bar, drinking bourbon, and vague flashes of being in a car. How had I gotten home? More importantly, how had I ended up in this compromising position? Before I could extract myself from this mortifying situation, Derek shifted beneath me. In one fluid motion, he rolled over, reversing our positions with an ease that left me breathless. Now I was pinned beneath him, his face inches from mine, his weight pressing me into the mattress. "Derek," I whispered, my voice cracking embarrassingly. "Wake up." He didn't stir.

His breathing remained deep and even, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. I pushed against his shoulders, but it was like trying to move a marble statue. My heart hammered in my chest, acutely aware of every point where our bodies connected. "Derek," I tried again, louder this time. "You need to get off me." Nothing. In desperation, I reached down, intending to pinch his thigh hard enough to wake him. Instead, my hand accidentally brushed against something else entirely. Something that was decidedly... alert.

Derek made a low sound in his throat, and his eyes opened slowly, those blue-gray irises focusing on me with startling clarity for someone who'd just woken up. *Finished playing grope the husband, or should I give you a few more minutes?" His voice was husky with sleep but unmistakably amused. Heat flooded my face. "I wasn't-I didn't mean to-" I stammered, horrified. "Did we... last night, do anything...?" 1/3 Chapter 24 He propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand lazily rubbing sleep from his eyes. His hair was tousled in a way that made him look younger, more approachable.

It was infuriatingly attractive. "You tell me," he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "There was this woman last night-bit of a pervert, really-who wouldn't let go of me when we got back to the apartment. Said all sorts of things that would make me blush to repeat right now. Don't suppose you remember any of that?" I stared at him in horror, shaking my head slowly. "You're making that up. I would never-" "Oh, so you do remember?" His eyebrow arched mockingly. "No! I don't remember anything after the bar. But I know I wouldn't have said...

whatever it is you're implying." Derek shrugged, seemingly content to let the matter drop. "Well, word of advice-don't go grabbing men's private parts first thing in the morning. The consequences might be more than you can handle, pervert." My face burned hotter as I became acutely aware of his growing reaction against my thigh. "It was an accident! I was trying to wake you up." I shifted uncomfortably, which only made the situation worse. "You're the pervert here!" "If you say so," he replied, his lips quirking upward. "But you started it. Don't worry though, I didn't mind.

Not the worst way to wake up." That casual comment somehow embarrassed me more than anything else. I turned my face away, unable to meet his gaze. "Could you please get off me now?" He complied, rolling to the side with a fluid grace that seemed unfair for someone who'd consumed as much alcohol as we had last night. I immediately sat up, tugging my nightgown back into place and trying to restore some dignity to my appearance. "I need coffee," I muttered, desperate to escape the bedroom and its lingering tension. Downstairs, Mrs. Hughes had already prepared breakfast.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and toast filled the kitchen. I poured myself a large mug, avoiding eye contact with Derek when he joined me a few minutes later, now wearing a T-shirt along with his sleep pants. "Good morning, Mrs. Hughes," Derek greeted our housekeeper with a warmth he rarely directed at me. "It's good to see you back." "Good morning, Mr. Wells," she replied, her smile brightening her typically stern features.

"Will you be having the usual breakfast?" "That would be perfect, thank you." I stared into my coffee cup as if it contained the secrets of the universe, anything to avoid looking at Derek. My head still pounded, and fragments of last night kept flashing through my mind-being carried from the car, Derek helping me change, his arms around me as we fell asleep. But nothing that explained why he'd implied I'd said embarrassing things to him. Had I really clung to him and made inappropriate comments? The mere possibility made me want to disappear through the floor." Mrs.

Hughes placed a plate of eggs Benedict in front of Derek and offered me toast with avocado. I took a few half-hearted bites, my stomach rebelling against food. The silence between us stretched, filled only by the clink of silverware and Mrs. Hughes's movements around the kitchen. After what felt like an eternity, I glanced at my watch and nearly choked on my coffee. "I'm going to be late for work." I stood abruptly, grateful for the excuse to leave. "I need to go." I dressed in record time, opting for a simple navy sheath dress that required minimal decision-making.

A quick application of concealer couldn't fully hide the evidence of last night's excesses, but it would have to do. I grabbed my purse and practically ran down the stairs. Derek was still at the dining table, reading something on his tablet. I hesitated at the door, propriety demanding some form of goodbye. "I'm heading to the shop," I said, my voice unnaturally high. "Have a good day." He looked up, studying me with an intensity that made me fidget. "You too, Eleanor." I fled.

Comments 5 3 Write Comments SHARE 3/3 Ruby Walker Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish. Ruby's writing style is bold and irresistible-perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.