Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
AUGUST
I t feels like everything hinges on what this eighteen-year-old angel-faced beauty is about to say and I’m pissed at myself for falling so hard for her. But it’s like I can’t control my emotions. Something I have been in control of my entire life is wiped away by one woman. I didn’t think this sort of thing was possible.
But here I am. More than eager to finger or eat her pussy as many times as I possibly can without getting anything in return just to witness her coming. Because the girl comes hard, every single time, and it is a sight to behold.
Her smile is small, her face flushed and covered with a light sheen of sweat. She’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. “I want to continue this.” She hesitates. “Us.”
My chest grows tight and I wonder if that’s my heart. Look at what she does to me with just a few spoken words. I’m all twisted up over this girl and I fucking revel in it.
“I want you to come home with me.” My voice is low, my intentions clear.
Sinclair frowns. “To the frat? ”
I slowly shake my head. “To my apartment I have in the city.”
“You have an apartment in the city?” I think my girl is in shock. She looks delightfully confused.
“I have homes all over the world. Well, my family does.” The apartment I’m referring to is mine. Once I came into my inheritance, I made the purchase from my cousins Grant and Finn. They run a huge real estate brokerage and got me an excellent deal.
“I should probably go back to campus?—”
“Do you have classes tomorrow?” I already know the answer.
She shakes her head.
“Then you’re coming home with me.” The matter is settled and I lean back against the seat, dragging her with me until she’s curled up in my lap. Her soft curves sink into my body and my skin sizzles everywhere we make contact.
I need to get her out of this car and into my bed immediately.
“My head is spinning,” she mumbles.
I puff out my chest, proud. I must’ve given her an earth-shaking orgasm. “We’ll be home soon.”
I say home like it’s our home and maybe someday it could be.
Jesus, I have truly lost it. But for once, I’m not fighting it. I’m going to soak this up and…enjoy it.
“My stomach hurts.” She shifts against me. “I don’t feel so good.”
I glance down at her, noting the sudden yellow tinge to her skin, and I sit up, hitting the button that lowers the partition between us and the driver. “Pull over.”
He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “We’re in the middle of traffic.”
“Unlock the doors then. She’s going to be sick. ”
The click of the doors being unlocked sounds and within seconds, I’m ushering Sinclair out of the vehicle, pulling her through the congested traffic, panic making my heart race. We’re just about to hit the sidewalk when she bends over and pukes in the gutter, making these horrible noises that sound like she’s dying.
My panic increases and instead of leaving her alone like I would do for anyone else who’s throwing their guts up in the middle of the city, I remain by her side. Gather her hair up in one hand and hold it away from her face while I rub her back with the other. Murmuring reassuring words to her while she gags and spits and nearly hits my shoes with her vomit.
It's disgusting. It’s downright horrific but something keeps me by her side. I want to take care of her and make sure she’s okay. This has never happened to me before.
Ever.
“Oh my God.” Her voice shakes and she sounds absolutely miserable. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
“It was the spritzes.” I’m rubbing circles on her lower back, wishing I had something to wipe her mouth with. A piece of gum. Anything to help.
“And all that rich food.” She clutches her stomach, her entire body shuddering, and I worry she’s going to throw up again. “I need some water.”
She rises to her full height and my hands drop away from her as she turns to look at me. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her face is streaked with tears. She looks traumatized. “You must think I’m so gross.”
“I don’t.” My voice is soft and rings with sincerity. I mean it. I’m not disgusted by her whatsoever and normally I would be. “It’s not like you meant to puke your guts out on the street.”
“Oh shit.” She looks around, brushing her hair away from her face before she glances down at herself, the relief on her face obvious. “At least I didn’t throw up on the dress. ”
“Fuck the dress.” I grab her hand and tug her close. But not too close because she kind of smells. “Are you all right?”
Sin nods, tipping her head back to look at me. Her eyes shine with not just unshed tears but also gratefulness. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Something tugs at my chest when she says that, and how she looks at me. I squeeze her hand. “I didn’t take that good of care of you.”
“You held my hair back.” Her smile is small. “That was so…nice.”
She sounds amazed that I would do something so simple. And rather logical if you ask me. Why wouldn’t I hold her hair away from her face? She was retching and puking on the side of the damn street. I’m not that heartless.
What the fuck? I am that heartless. I’ve always been that heartless.
“Come on.” I tug on her hand and lead her back to the car. “Let’s get out of here.”
We arrive at my apartment about thirty minutes later. I was able to clean up Sinclair pretty well in the back of the car, but when we arrive at my place, she’s immediately asking where the bathroom is so she can take a shower.
“I feel disgusting.” She dips her head, scanning the front of her dress yet again. “I’m worried I ruined the dress.”
She’s too fucking hung up on the dress. For someone who comes from money, she worries about it constantly. “I’ll have it dry cleaned.”
“I can do?—”
I interrupt her. “I said I’ll take care of it.” She flinches at my sharp tone and I take a deep breath, reminding myself she’s in a delicate state and needs to be handled with extra care. “Let me show you the bathroom.”
We move through the apartment, me turning on the lights here and there, hoping for some sort of response from Sinclair but she says nothing. Considering she’s most likely not feeling well, I remind myself I shouldn’t be surprised. But I am a little disappointed. I’ve never cared about impressing someone before.
Until Sinclair.
“Here are some towels.” I grab a stack of thick cream-colored towels out of the cabinet, setting them on top of the marble counter. Sin just stands there, rubbing her hands up and down her exposed arms as if she caught a chill, staring off into space. “Do you need help with the shower?”
“I can manage it,” she mumbles, not looking at me.
I find that hard to believe, so I stalk toward the shower and turn it on, checking the temperature and only stepping away when I deem it warm enough. When I glance over my shoulder to check on her, she’s still standing in the same exact spot.
“Take off the dress,” I snap, making her startle.
She automatically does as I say, shrugging out of the dress and letting it fall to the ground in a heap of sequins. She kicks it away from her feet, standing there naked in the middle of the bathroom, only wearing the shoes. Reminding me of when she was naked, save for those hideous gold stilettos.
“Sin.” I approach her carefully, my movements slow. She barely looks at me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m mortified.” She ducks her head, and fuck, she sounds so sad. “I basically demanded you take me on a date and I end up ruining everything.”
“You didn’t ruin anything.” I reach for her, curling my fingers around her upper arms, holding her gently. “Look at me. ”
She barely lifts her gaze to mine, her humiliation obvious, but she doesn’t say a word.
“Do you think I’m angry with you?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” She shrugs, looking away. “You’re intimidating, August. Sometimes you make me nervous.”
Remaining quiet, I lean in closer to her, pressing my lips to her forehead, wanting to ease her distress. I remain there, breathing her in for a moment, running my fingers up and down the back of her arms. Steam from the shower slowly filters throughout the room, fogging up the massive mirror, and I start to sweat.
From the hot water. From my fragile feelings for this girl. Comforting people is not my forte. I have no idea how to handle a situation like this, so all I can do is wing it.
“I’m not.” I keep my voice low, my gaze level on hers once they lock. “Let’s get you in the shower.”
She gives a barely-there nod acknowledging my suggestion and I help her out of her shoes and into the shower, tempted to join her but no. I can’t push myself on her when she’s feeling so raw. Instead, I leave her alone and try my best to accommodate her every need once she’s finished. Like leaving the towels close to the shower so she can easily grab them. I set out a brand-new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste I find in a drawer. I even find a bottle of fragrant body lotion in the drawer and set it on the counter, hoping she likes the scent.
After I leave one of my T-shirts for her to wear on the counter, I exit the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Exhaling loudly and running my hands through my hair a few times as I pace the length of my bedroom.
I’ve never been in a situation like this before and I feel…inept. Helpless. I want to make sure I’m taking care of her needs, but I have zero clue if I know how to do that. I can’t read her mind and I’ve certainly never cared enough about another human—woman—to want to take care of them in every way I ca n. I hated how sad she seemed. How defeated. Am I responsible for her feeling that way?
God, maybe I can’t be fixed. I’m a complete asshole and I’m just going to have to deal with it. Live with it.
Which means Sinclair is going to have to live with it too. Will she want to? Or will she tell me to go straight to hell?
I’d deserve the hell comment. I really would.
Irritation flows through my veins and I let go of my hair, resting my hands on my hips as I study the closed bathroom door. I’m tempted to bust into the room and beg her forgiveness for being such a prick. But I don’t.
Instead, I collapse on the edge of the bed and hang my head, resting my arms on my knees and studying the pristine carpet. This apartment is untouched. No one uses it except the house cleaning company who comes in once a week and does a quick tidy up. It’s cold in here. Soulless.
Like me.