Chapter 42
Luckily, the ensuite bathroom I use when I visit Jace was empty.
Everyone else was getting their freak on in one of the other six bathrooms Jace had built in the house.
Along with building multiple bathrooms, Jace is also a great host and leaves period things in every bathroom.
He’s the only one who knows how bad my period can get and always leaves me the specific products I use.
Opening the door, I yelp in fright when the man I’ve been trying to avoid is standing just outside the door. “Shit!” I bump into the wood. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“Are you in pain?”
“What?”
“You’re in pain.”
He says it like a statement, and for the life of me, I can’t understand what the fuck is happening right now, and I’m too bloated to care.
Interpreting his mercurial moods is pissing me off.
Rather than answer him, I inch past, wanting to get home so I can crawl under the covers and weather my pain. The manacle on my arm startles me.
“I asked you a question.”
His hand is rough, calloused. It feels hot on my skin.
The last time he touched me was on my inner thigh, but that time he was wearing gloves, fucking me with his gloved fingers.
He’s so strong, and I know his hold is going to leave bruises, and I don’t care.
I’m angry enough at him that feeling the abrasions only makes the mix of emotions inside me worse.
It feels good, really good. And despite his asshole behavior, I want his touch all over my body.
Ready to strike back, I yank at my arm, trying to break free.
It’s useless. He’s too strong, so I ask a question of my own.
“Why do you care? You like staying away from me, remember?”
When he doesn’t respond, only squeezing my arm harder, I don’t look away, too caught up in the emotion between us. When I tug at my arm this time, he doesn’t resist, releasing me. Stepping around his large frame, I’m almost to the end of the hallway when his words stop me.
“Do you need anything?”
Do I need anything? What a freaking loaded question. Yeah, I need a lot. Like a lobotomy to forget what his man feels like, smells like, and god help me, how it feels to be caught up in him. “Not from you,” I growl, leaving him standing there.
Looking through the glass French doors to the outside, I spot my friends and unlatch the lock to head toward them.
Once I reach Jace, who now has Sophia sitting on his lap.
Tatum and Meela are cuddled up together again.
Meela’s lips are swollen, and her hair is a mess.
Even Dru and Silas look sated. They clearly enjoyed whatever they did in the bathroom.
Riggs and Jacqueline are now sitting next to each other, with Jacks laughing at something Riggs says.
Sloane and his son are FaceTiming someone, and from the way the tall man is smiling, I’ll bet it’s Lara.
Sophia’s new waitress is running a comb through her daughter’s wet hair.
Roxi looks sun-kissed and happy, coloring quietly at the table next to Onyx.
Everyone looks content and happy, and as much as I love them all, I need to get out of here.
“I’m not feeling well, I’m going to head home,” I whisper in Jace’s ear the moment I get close.
Sophia climbs off his lap to let Jace stand up.
“What’s wrong?” He looks so concerned. He’s always been the one out of the two of my brothers I’m closest with.
He took on a considerable role when my father basically shut me out of his life, and he’s always had my back.
But what can I say to him now? That my primary source of discontent is his good friend?
And when the hairs on my skin stand up, I know Stone behind me.
My body’s reaction is confirmed when I see Sophia look over my shoulder and then back at me. She steps forward and touches my arm.
“You okay?”
“Yup,” I reply, injecting some brightness into my voice. Not letting that sexy bastard hear me complain. “Just going to head home and get some rest.”
Her hug catches me off guard because my soon-to-be sister-in-law is not a hugger. I lean on her a little, loving that she’s a permanent part of my life.
“What did he do? I’ll kick his ass out of here,” she whispers, pulling back and looking up at me.
Chuckling, I squeeze her petite frame and lean down near her ear. “He didn’t do anything.” Except give me a fantastic orgasm and make me feel like my skin was on fire. “I got my period and the cramps are killing me.” Just saying it, the ache in my lower back starts to intensify.
When Sophia lets me go, Jace adds his hug, murmuring in my ear. “Bad?”
The man misses nothing. Hugging him back, I nod against his chest. “I just need to get my medication and go to bed.”
“Do you want me to drive you home? Or you can stay here?”
“No, I’m going to head home. My meds are there.”
“But they make you so loopy.”
“I’ll stay in the apartment. I’m okay.” I kiss his cheek softly and wave to everyone else, telling them I’m going to head home because I’m tired.
With that, I walk past Stone, who hasn’t moved from his earlier spot.
I feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to look at him and head around the side of Jace’s house until I reach the front drive.
Digging for my keys, I open the car door, thankful that it hasn’t acted up since the day I visited my father with Adam and Jace. The Beetle starts at the first turn.
Thankfully, Jace’s circular drive is well-lit.
A devious thought runs through my head when I spot his bike.
I could run the shit over. Literally crash into it and blame poor driving, but no, I won’t do it.
It’s too beautiful. Bikes like these are gorgeous works of craftsmanship.
Leaving the sight of the three bikes in the rearview, I slowly cruise down Jace’s driveway, praying there is no traffic and that I can drive safely through the mist in the air, the warm air now cooling since the sun went down.
Maybe I should have stayed over. Gone upstairs and rested in the guest room I use when I’m at Jace’s house.
But besides my pills not being there, there was no way I could rest knowing he would be right outside.
A few minutes into my drive, I look through the rearview, spotting a single light through the fog. “Son of a bitch!” It’s a single light. A motorcycle light. I can’t tell who it is. Maybe it’s Riggs or Onyx. But I can tell it’s him. I feel it. Still pissed at him, I hope he gets a flat tire.
When it starts to rain, I smile and turn up the radio, shouting.
“Let there be rain!” I hope every scrap of clothing he’s wearing gets soaked, that his leather jacket mildews.
And what is he doing anyway? Didn’t I tell fuck off?
Shit. Jace probably sent him. I knew my big brother wouldn’t let go of me leaving early.
Always protecting me, always trying to save me.
If Jace did send the stupid, sexy, interfering biker, then he goes on the shit list, too. Like I can’t drive in a little rain.
When I pull into the parking lot of the studio 40 minutes later, the rain has let up, but my fingers are cramped from gripping the steering wheel so hard.
Not just worried about the visibility conditions on the highway, but I was also worried about his dumb ass, too.
A few times, cars got in front of his bike.
Although it’s stupid to worry about him.
Stone rides a bike like he was born to do it.
My anger bubbles over at the fact that he was probably relaxed, cool as a damn cucumber, while he was riding. Not a care in the world.
He pulls in behind me, and before he can dismount, I open my door, slam it, and march up to him. The lower half of my body is on fire. My cramps are raging, and my back feels broken. “You didn’t need to follow me, you know! I’m not a fucking child. I’ve been driving for years! Did Jace send you?”
“No.” He turns off the ignition and climbs off his bike with ease.
He’s soaked from head to toe. A leather vest with skulls and the words Legion Lords patched in the corner is also saturated with rainwater, but I can still see that his shirt is molded to his body.
Dammit. His thick, broad shoulders, all gorgeous muscles in his chest, are clearly defined.
Each divot in his abs is outlined. Perfection.
Fuck’s sake. He’s not wearing a helmet, and I want to yell at him, but I’m too caught up in his wet hair, the water dripping off his chiseled jaw, like some sexy Poseidon.
He moves closer, sauntering really to stand inches from me. “How bad is your pain?”
A twelve, an inner voice whimpers, but I remind myself that I’m so supposed to hate him, not lean on him when I’m struggling to keep myself upright.
“None of your business.” I turn away and walk to the gallery door, opening it before slamming inside and twisting the knob, locking the door.
I make sure to turn the closed sign as I stare at him through the glass. He hasn’t moved, arms still crossed.
Trudging up the back stairs to my apartment, I insert my key in the lock, nearly doubled over in pain by this point.
I step out of my flip flops and pull my clothes off as I go, not caring about anything except getting some hot water on my body.
Then I’ll take my medicine and crawl into my bed.
The pain meds make me groggy, and I’ve learned over the years never to take them when I’m still vertical.
As soon as the hot water hits my scalp and my shoulders, I moan, the heat helping to dull some of the intense throbbing on both sides of my pelvis and square in the middle of my lower back.
My fingers hold onto the shower wall as I breathe through the pain.
I manage to wash myself as quickly as possible, then shut off the water and step out, wrapping my towel around my body and opening the door.
The sight of the figure standing in the center of my bedroom makes me scream bloody murder.
“What the fuck!” I fall back against the door jamb in utter disbelief that the same man I left outside is now inside my bedroom.
I locked the door, right? I could have sworn I locked the door.
God, maybe I’m in more pain than I thought. “How did you get in here?!”
“I picked your locks.” He says it calmly, like it’s no big deal.
“You picked—You picked my locks?” I feel like I’m underwater.
I can’t comprehend. I shakily push off the wall and grip the towel of my naked body harder.
StoneHe’s in my bedroom, and I’m naked. It’s not like he hasn’t seen everything there is to see.
He licked my asshole to my clit. I shake off the memories. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“Because you didn’t answer me. How bad is your pain?”
“We’ve already had this conversation. Now get out,” I snarl, trying not to cry at the pain.
“No.”
The pain has become worse, and I hobble to my small pallet on the floor. I really should have bought a mattress by now, but I haven’t had the time. Lying down, I curl into a ball, happy that my towel keeps most of me covered. I shiver at the water on my skin.
“Countess, how bad?”
I keep my eyes closed, refusing to look at him, and mutter, “A ten.”
“This is your bed?”
His voice sounds angry, but very far away. The pain is taking over, making talking hard. “Fine,” I garble.
“Do you take painkillers?”
“Yes. Room.” Minutes later, he helps me up, and I lean on him, my lower half in so much pain I can’t concentrate.
“How many do you take?”
“Two. Or groggy. Dizzy.”
“Open your mouth, Countess.”
I open my mouth, and his fingers slide inside, and I can feel two pills on my tongue.
A glass is next to my lips, and I open my mouth, taking in the cool water.
Reflexively, I swallow down the medication and pull away, turning into a ball until the pain subsides.
When I feel myself go airborne, I open one eye.
“What?” Stone’s face is above me, and there’s some recognition that I’m in his arms, with my head resting in his neck, and his arms under my knees. “Are you carrying me?”
He doesn’t answer me, and I close my eyes again, not caring anymore.
The next time I open my eyes, I’m in a dark room that smells like him.
It’s comforting. He places me on a soft surface, much softer than my bed.
His smells reach my nose. Smoke and fruit.
It’s relaxing. Extra warmth touches my belly, and it warms me from the inside out.
I sink down into the softness and sigh when a thick blanket settles over me.
I feel something touch my cheek, and his gruff tone. “Get some sleep.”