Chapter Thirty-Two
Ailee
Consciousness slowly emerges from a restorative and relaxing sleep. Something warm and supple lies underneath my hand. I flex my fingers against it. Hmm, that feels nice.
Another something is massaging my lower back. I swear I don’t have anything this nice in my room. Did Josh replace the mattress in my room with a self-massaging type—
Wait! I’m naked. And that’s not some built-in mattress massager, it’s long, strong fingers digging into my knotted muscles!
My mind races as I try to remember what happened. Josh flashed his scrumptious torso and the outline of his enormous cock by putting on a pair of gray sweatpants. After getting an eyeful of masculine perfection, I went out…then came back home…saw Josh sleeping…
The rest of the memory is a little hazy. But I’m certain I made the first move because I remember vividly what it felt like to take his dick into my mouth.
And then… Then…
I straddled him like a horny hussy and took off my shirt and bra, telling him my breasts hurt, like I wanted him to do something about it.
My heart drops to my stomach. He even got to put his dick inside me without a condom. He said he’d had a vasectomy and was clean—he was quite emphatic about it, and I trust him. But I’ve never done it bare like that to avoid any unwanted consequences.
In rubber, we trust.
But everything was just crazy. Normally, I’m not like that at all. It had to have been a really, really dirty dream because I saw Josh topless and my brain immediately went into X-rated territory like some kind of movieland Jezebel.
But if it was a dream, why is my face buried in Josh’s chest, and my leg wrapped around him? And why is he just as naked as I am? Even with my eyes closed, I can tell who it is. The gorgeous, lean body? It’s like my fingers can read Josh Braille. That scent that never fails to turn me on?
Oh yes, I can tell. Even now, I’m getting a little wet. My cheeks turn hot so fast, I’m shocked I don’t just combust.
It’s okay, I tell myself. This isn’t the end of the world. I can sneak out and regroup. If I can just elegantly pull back one of my legs, which is thrown over his taut waist, my thigh so close to his penis…
I try to move, then give up. My muscles are like Jell-O. If I try to move, I might brush against his private parts, and then it’ll look like I’m trying to seduce him. Again.
Awkward. And embarrassing.
My emotions are all over the place. Josh famously never sleeps with the same woman twice. So we aren’t doing this again. It’s a crime that I used up my one time with Josh and can’t recall it with crystal clarity to replay later.
Disappointment bursts in my chest. Is he already tired of me? Despite my fuzzy memory, I know the sex we had was amazing. I can tell from the way I’m sore—in a very good way. Another kind of body Braille.
I’ve never felt this relaxed, safe and happy after sleeping with a guy. Normally I wake up slightly dissatisfied, like I’ve been denied the final bite I needed to be fully sated.
I really hope it was as good for him as it was for me, but given his history—
“What are you thinking about?” Josh asks. “You’re so tense.”
“I’m just…awake,” I squeak. “Not thinking.”
He snorts, but the sound is affectionate. “You’ve been awake for a while. So. What’s up?”
“Well…”
“Tell me.”
“I just, um, want you to know that I am not usually like that.” I wave my hand, unsure how to pick the right words. I’m not the lawyer here.
“Define ‘that.’” And, of course, Josh is.
“Uh…” I clear my throat, trying to gather my courage.
I hope I never get cross-examined by him in court.
“Like…doing things to you while you were asleep. That was so wrong. I should know better. I don’t know what came over me.
” I cringe inwardly. It isn’t easy to lay out the humiliating thoughts, but I don’t want to lie to him after taking advantage of him.
He tenses. His dark eyebrows pinch together as displeasure clouds his eyes.
Oh crap. He’s upset. The silence suffocates me, and I start to talk to make him understand: “It really isn’t like me to be so forward, and I’m not that sexy or hot or anything like that and—”
“Are we speaking the same language?” he demands.
I hesitate, unsure where this is going and not wanting to upset him more. “Yes…?”
“Oh?” He couldn’t sound more doubtful. “Because I don’t think we’re operating from the same definition of ‘hot.’ Or ‘sexy.’ I almost died from wanting you, and I won’t allow you to put yourself down.”
“But—”
He puts his hand over my mouth. “No buts. I mean it. You’re a damn sexy woman, and you’ll never disparage yourself again. If you do”—he pauses, his brow furrowing—“you’ll be punished.”
My mouth dries. I recall his earlier warning that if I ever call him “boss” again, he’ll kiss me until I remember who he is. Like, that kind of punishment? Or maybe a…spanking…? “How?” I ask, a little bit breathless.
“Something will present itself.” The dark glitter in his eyes promises that he will push my body to the limit to teach me a lesson.
I lick my lips. Whatever he does will test me, but he’ll never really hurt me. I always feel safe around him.
“Um.” I glance at our bodies entwined on the tangled sheets. “So does this mean I’m sleeping in your bed from now on?” I ask, just to be certain.
“Yes.”
“And we’re going to…do it again?”
“Do you want to do it again?” His fingertips slide along the curve of my shoulder. A hot jolt pounds through me, and I wish I didn’t have a leg over him because I’d love to clench them together to the ease the ache.
My heart beats faster. I lift my gaze to meet his. “I think so. And hopefully this time I’ll remember every detail.”
His eyes widen. “You don’t remember?”
“Sorry, but it’s a little hazy.” I bite my lip. “Actually, I wasn’t feeling all that great when I came home.”
All the delightful, teasing tone in his voice vanishes. “Okay, wait. What happened?”
“Nothing really. I went to look at some books, then ran into a neighbor from my old building, so we had some coffee, and then I came back. But once I got home, I started to feel really weird.”
His intense eyes focus on me. “Weird how?”
“Just sort of hot and itchy all over, like I was having an allergic reaction. But I was breathing fine, and no bumps or hives. So I figured it must have been from the stress of the fire and everything. My renter’s insurance hasn’t paid me a penny yet.
” I shrug, not wanting to worry Josh unnecessarily.
But he stares at me, a hint of horror rippling over his face. “This neighbor—male or female?”
“Female—”
“Do you know her well?”
“Sort of. I haven’t known her that long, but if it weren’t for her, I might’ve died in the fire. She knocked on my door to get me out. I didn’t even know anything was wrong until she woke me up.”
“Did she try to save anyone else?”
I think about it. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember seeing other people with us, though.”
He stiffens. “Can you describe her?”
His reaction is a little unnerving, but I trust he has a good reason.
“She has gorgeous, dark hair and stunning blue eyes. She seems to exercise a lot. Has the body for it. And her name is Zoe. She used to live in Vegas until she moved to Los Angeles for a job. She—” I stop because Josh is paler than the sheet.
Even his lips are white. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? ”
It takes a moment before he can speak. “Yes.” He shakes his head. “Uh, not really. No.”
He gets up and leaves the room, his long strides eating up the distance between the bed and the door. I stare at the door, suddenly breathless and feeling like I’ve done something wrong. I’ve never seen him this upset. But what did I say?
He returns soon with his phone. He leans over me, bracing himself on a hand next to my hip, and flips the phone around. “Is this her?”
I blink at a photo of Zoe on the screen. “Yes. How do you know her?”
“You need to stay away from her,” he says tautly.
“What? Why?”
“She’s my mother.”
My jaw slackens. His mother? Whaaaat?
“My mother.” The muscles in his jaw twitch. “The woman who gave birth to me. And she’s a fucking sociopath.”