Chapter 18
Don’t You Want Me
I spent a few hours with the stranger in the private suite.
The bath was just the start of the activities he had for me, and while I tried to catch a glimpse of him, it was near impossible when he kept my hands either tied up or busy, so I wasn’t able to adjust my blindfold.
When he had his fun, he left me much the same as he did the night before, but this time, I was in the shower.
He told me to wait until I heard the door click and then I could remove my blindfold.
I’m majorly regretting my decision to comply now, the desperation of wanting to know if it was him or not bugging me to the point of insanity.
It’s all I could think about on the car ride home.
Asher was there, of course, as soon as I came out of the room, and even that seems like too much of a coincidence to me.
But he was ready to bring me home, all wide-eyed and cheeky-grinned.
He didn’t ask me about my time in the private suite even though I know he was itching to just by the inquisitive way he watched me.
He also didn’t try to stay like last night.
Tonight, he brought me home and dropped me at the door and then left.
With a “sweet dreams, princess” comment that had me wondering what mischief he was up to.
I move through the mostly dark apartment and into my room, kicking off my shoes and dumping my leather jacket on my bed. I go and brush my teeth. When I return to my room, I find three boxes all wrapped up on the end of my bed. I stare at them. What on earth is this?
There is a big gold bow tying the three of them together and a note attached.
Every girl needs some toys to keep her company on the long, lonely nights. Think of me when you’re using them.
Then there is a little winky face and
Your friend Ash xx.
Oh, my God. He bought me sex toys. My cheeks heat instantly. I can’t even bring myself to open the boxes. Also, what is his obsession with being my friend?
With my cheeks glowing with heat, I collect them and move them into the walk-in closet, closing the door with them inside.
I will deal with them in the morning. Right now, I need sleep.
I change into my silk pajamas, ready for bed, but there is one thing still playing on my mind. Cruz. I can’t stop wondering how he is.
I creep across the hallway to Cruz’s room to check on him, the familiar scent of cigarettes and leather lingering in the air making me think of my first night here.
So much has happened since then, it’s hard to believe it’s only been a week.
He’s lying on his side, fast asleep. He looks peaceful and so damn gorgeous.
I have no idea why I’m so attracted to him, but I am.
I have been since he started calling me little darlin’ and caressed my face so damn tenderly that first night.
He’s okay. Relief washes over me. Now I can sleep. The door creaks as I go to close it.
Cruz stirs. “Is that you, little darlin’?” he asks, his voice groggy from sleep.
Damn it. I move further into the room. “Just got home from work. I wanted to see how you’re feeling. Sorry I woke you,” I whisper, feeling terrible.
His hair falls over his eyes, making him look sexy as hell, and I think he knows it. “I’m better now that you’re here.” He reaches out for me. “Come and lie with me.” He pouts in a way that tugs at my heartstrings.
I know this is a terrible idea, but I’m dog-tired and have no fight left in me.
Besides, I have been worried about him all damn day.
I move to lie under the covers with him.
He tucks his good arm under me and pulls me close into him, inhaling deeply.
This should feel weird, uncomfortable even, with how little we really know each other, but it doesn’t.
He feels like coming home in a way I have never experienced before.
“What did you get up to at work?” he asks, brushing through the strands of my long hair.
I sigh heavily. “I think it’s best if we don’t talk about my work, don’t you? I don’t want to fight with you again.”
His lips form a thin line. “I can handle it,” he snips, but even the way he says it, I can tell he can’t, and there is no way I’m getting into it with him while he’s in this condition and I’m so tired.
“You proved you can’t. Now go back to sleep; you need your rest, and so do I.”
His thumb brushes over my chin. “I was just trying to look out for you, he wasn’t listening.”
I look up at him, wondering what is going through his head right now. Maybe he’s had way too much time in bed to think today. “Cruz, you know I’m not yours to protect, right?”
His eyes lock with mine, something dark and unhinged flashing in them. “I can’t help the way I feel about you,” he huffs out.
I blink back at him. All I can think is it has to be the drugs talking.
No guy, especially no big burly biker guy like him, declares feelings this soon and after only one kiss.
“You have known me a week,” I whisper, not sure why he feels so open to just say how he feels.
I know there is chemistry here, it’s zapping between us every time we’re together, even when I’m pissed with him.
But I’m in no position to be declaring feelings for him or anyone.
I’m just trying to survive my first week in Ravens Hollow, praying every day that my papa and brother don’t show up to drag me back home.
“I have never in my life felt this for anyone else,” he whispers, his eyes locking with mine.
“Cruz,” I warn him.
“We can talk about it later. You’re tired.”
“Okay.” I sigh.
He pulls me in close, and I know he has no intention of letting me leave his bed tonight. And the truth is, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m already half asleep.
When the warmth of the sun shines through Cruz’s open window and wakes me, I realize I’m still tangled in his arms. I must have slept all night.
His hard cock presses into my ass, leaving no room for doubt, he’s thrilled to have me here.
I try to move out of his grip, to get some space before he wakes up properly.
Maybe I can get him a coffee and some breakfast in bed, help him recover.
But he has other ideas and pulls me closer to his chest, his arm sandwiching me into his body like I was made to fit there. His face dips, and I feel him breathing in my hair. “Morning, little darlin’,” his sleepy voice croaks.
“Morning, Cruz,” I mutter, squirming, as I wrestle with his unyielding embrace, careful not to hurt him.
His hand moves down my thigh and under my silk sleep shorts just slightly.
He brushes along my thigh and then cups me there through my panties.
I press my ass back into him, wanting his touch even though I know I shouldn’t.
He must be too sore to even think about sex.
He is touching me with the injured arm, but if it hurts him, he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Cruz.” I roll out of his grip quickly, standing in a rush. I stare down at him, trying to get my now-racing heart under control. How does he make me a needy mess so damn quickly?
He stretches, placing his good arm behind his head as he props himself up.
“Can’t blame me for trying. You look edible in those fancy pajamas.
Please tell me the rest of the bags Jagger placed in your room yesterday contain items that are just as irresistible.
” His smirk stretches across his face, making him look less psychotic than normal.
Why is he being cute right now? “Y-you’re recovering from being stabbed,” I stutter out for myself as much as him.
“Stop running from me, little darlin’. I’m fine.” He holds his hand out to me, and I can’t help but give him my hand in return. I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame, no matter how dangerous I know he is. He tugs me back into bed and toward him. “You could help me heal?”
I raise a brow, staring back at him. “We do what I know you have in mind, you will pop your stitches.”
His grin widens. “So what if I do, Ricky will fix me up again.”
I let out a heavy sigh. There is no way in hell I’m letting that happen. I prop up on my elbow, trying to get some physical space between us. “Not going to happen. Let me get you some breakfast instead. Do you need painkillers as well?”
“Only if they will fix my wounded heart, from your constant rejection.”
“Oh, my God. You’re so intense.” With a dramatic eye roll, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and push myself up to standing.
I need to move this conversation into the kitchen, or we will end up staying in bed all day because I don’t know how much longer I can resist him when he’s so damn forward.
“I know what I want, Daisy. You’re going to be mine.
” The way he stares back at me with so much intensity makes my heart sprint.
He shoves himself up to sitting, not looking like he’s in pain, but I don’t see how that could be true.
He couldn’t have healed in one day of bed rest. While I watch him, he stands and tosses his legs over the edge of the bed.
He’s only in his black, low-slung boxer briefs, his ink and hard muscles on full display.
The tattoo on his back is the same as the skull emblem on his leather jacket he wears.
I can’t help but stare. On his side is a bandage, and there is another wrapped around his arm, but other than that, you would have no idea he was even injured.
His long hair falls over his eyes, and he scrubs it back with a flick of his hand.
Damn, he is gorgeous. Like out-of-this-world heavenly, and I want to run my tongue over every inch of him.
“Deny it all you want, but I see how badly you want me.”
“You’re Sloane’s brother,” I mutter, trying to find a reasonable explanation of why we can’t do what he wants us to. What I want us to.
“Doesn’t mean anything.” He closes the gap between us, pinning me to the wall behind with his body.