Chapter 6
SIX
MASE
The room spins when I open my eyes, and I wince at the morning sun shining through the parted curtains, making my head throb from the intensity of its brightness. “Fuck. That hurts,” I mumble. Taking a deep breath, I sit up and clench my teeth at my brain pounding against my skull.
Definitely shouldn’t have grabbed another bottle of liquid courage before I entered the bedroom last night.
I throw my legs over the bed and sit on the edge, leaning forward to drop my head in my hands while I slowly come around.
“Hey, are you okay?” a silky voice asks, and her soft fingers graze my back, causing me to flinch at the realization.
Oh, shit.
I did it. I actually fucking did it.
Memories flood back to me from last night.
The way I pinned her to the bed and mounted her, slamming my cock inside her over and over again.
My disappointment at not using protection to fuck her ass so I could slide inside her pussy again straight after, coupled with my plan to shower and fuck her in there too, which failed epically after we fell asleep with her wrapped around me like a koala.
I’ve never slept with another woman before, in every sense of the word, and that realization has me batting her hand away as I struggle to stand.
Clinging onto the dresser for support, I bend over and grab two bottles of water from the fridge, then throw one onto the bed for Innocent Angel while I twist the cap off the other and down it as if I’ve been abandoned in a desert for days on end.
She stretches to grab her bottle, so I take her in again. She’s young. Holy fuck, she’s young.
I blink several times.
She didn’t appear this young last night.
I slowly lower the bottle from my lips, with shock rendering me speechless. Oh shit, what the hell did I do? My stomach rolls as I assess her.
Her hair is mussed, giving her the roughly fucked look, and after I see the blood staining her inner thighs, I turn my focus to my rock-hard cock—there’s blood on me too. My cock flexes, and I grimace. I should not get excited about the sight of her blood. Her virginity, for Christ’s sake.
I asked Indulgence for innocent, and they fucking delivered.
The sooner I get her out of here, the better.
I need some time to collect myself, to come to terms with what the fuck I did, and worse, how much I enjoyed doing it.
The thought of her leaving has my heart hammering against my chest. Maybe I should ask her for another night?
No. She’s young. An escort, for Christ’s sake. Besides, she might say no.
I clear my throat. “Do you want me to order you breakfast?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip, her cheeks heating under my scrutiny of the mark on her neck, and her nipples pucker the more I stare at her. Then she darts her eyes toward the crystal clock mounted on the wall, and when she shakes her head, it sends a welcome rush of relief through me.
“No, thank you. I need to get going. I’m already going to be late for school.” She rolls her eyes.
School?
My heart stops beating, I swear it. I know she worded it wrong, but still, something inside me tells me to query it.
“You mean college?”
She tilts her head to the side, scanning me up and down, then toys with the label on the water bottle.
The sound of blood rushing around my body can be heard in my ears, and I wince at the sensation.
“You mean college?” I ask, sterner this time, and even I can admit I sound like an ass. “Hey. Fucking look at me and answer!” I demand, harsher than before.
She looks up at me from beneath her lashes, those beautiful fucking long lashes that make me want to press delicate kisses on her pretty little face. When her stare collides with mine, my lungs deflate; the air is being sucked from them as I wait for her response.
“No. I’m still in school.”
A disgruntled sound erupts in my throat, and I shake my head. “No. Your application said you wanted the money for college,” I sneer, pointing my finger at her.
“I do!” she snaps back. “I want it so I’m able to go to college. Besides”—she lifts her shoulder—“it’s no big deal.”
A loud scoff erupts from me. “No big deal?” My voice gets louder with each syllable.
“No. Big. Fucking. Deal?” Just how old is she?
My eyes widen with the realization. “How old are you?” She’s twenty-one.
She has to be; her application said as much.
Indulgence carries out all relevant security checks. Thorough checks.
Oscar O’Connell wouldn’t run a business without those checks.
“Eighteen.”
The moment she says it, my legs buckle from beneath me, and I reach out to cling onto the dresser in order to keep me upright.
“Eighteen?!”
She nods coyly, then slides off the bed, causing me to stumble back, away from her. Hell no, I don’t need her near me despite my cock having other ideas.
Simply rolling her eyes, she grabs her dress, ignoring my meltdown, and I watch on in horror as the teenager I fucked into oblivion last night gets dressed.
The innocent teenager.
The virgin.
Oh, shit. I fucked her ass. Hard.
Oh, my fucking god, no.
My quest to achieve my dream night has resulted in my worst nightmare. “Holy shit.” I swallow hard, and my eyes burn through her as she smooths her dress over her bloodied thighs. “You’re in school.”
“I did it for college money,” she reiterates.
For college money?
The girl needs financial support. She sold herself to a bastard like me, whored herself out, in order to pay for her education. What fucked-up world do we live in?
I shake my head, pissed at myself, pissed at Indulgence. Hell, I’m pissed at the world right now.
Her gaze bounces around the room as she looks everywhere but at me.
Shit, she might have some fucking trauma or something after what I did to her last night …
for her first time. I squeeze my eyes closed.
“I need to leave.” The softness in her tone has me opening my eyes, and I spin to face the dresser.
I open the top drawer and take out the wads of extra bills I brought with me.
“There’s about five and a half thousand there.
Take it.” I shove it into her chest, and it’s only now that her blue eyes meet mine.
Uncertainty wavers beneath them, shrouded in reluctance but bathed in excitement. She chews on her lip. “Take it. You were great.” I wince at my words, then push the tip money at her again.
Her shoulders sag, and she takes it from my hand, sending a spark of electricity through me when our fingers touch. Her, too, judging by the way our gazes collide and her lips part.
Hmm, they part just enough to allow me to slip my tongue inside and taste her properly.
Jesus, she’s beautiful. Beautiful and dangerously forbidden.
But instead, I tilt my head toward the door in encouragement.
She needs to leave right fucking now, before I do something I regret, like throw her on the damn bed and fuck her again, age be damned.
Anger contorts her features as her mouth snaps shut, her lips pucker, and she becomes redder as she glares at me. Then she spins on the balls of her bare feet and heads toward the door.
Every cell inside me tells me to go after her, to ask her name, take her number, something. Just to check if she’s okay, nothing more. Nope, not a damn thing more.
But like hell do I want another lawsuit on my ass, not after taking years to get my divorce over with. So instead of listening to my heart, I listen to my head and ignore the pain stabbing at my chest. It’s a one-night stand, a transaction.
I stride toward the bathroom with a purpose.
To wash away every part of Innocent Angel. It’s just a shame I can’t wash my mind of all the filthy images of her too.
She’s branded me without realizing it. I thought my wife was my biggest downfall, but I already know it’s not. Letting her go will be.