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“I think I need a basis for comparison. It’s only fair, you know. When can you do that again? Don’t you need a recovery period to build your semen back up?”
His mouth dropped. Was she for real? She wasn’t laughing this time. “My…semen is just fine. And if you weren’t sore, I’d show you right now.”
She pushed off his chest to look him in the eyes. “I’m not sore.”
He stared at her—he wasn’t buying it. If he looked, he was sure he’d find blood. She had to feel at least a little discomfort after having someone of his size for the first time.
“Fine. I’m a little sore,” she admitted.
Sitting up, he put his feet on the floor.
“Where are we going?” she asked and grabbed hold of his neck when he stood.
“I’m going to run you a bath. Then I’ll go downstairs and get us some dinner. You must be hungry. Then we’ll watch a movie.”
“Can I choose what we watch?”
“I don’t do chick flicks.”
He sat her on the vanity top and she flinched from the cold granite. “Sorry,” he apologized.
Filling the tub, he wished he had some of those good-smelling salt things to put in.
When the water level was high enough, he helped her step in and sit. “I think you should join me,” she said.
That was definitely not what he needed. Then he noticed her gaze was focused on his dick. He’d completely forgotten he was naked. He should have pulled his clothes on, taking her comfort into account. She’d never been around a naked man before. Then he noticed there was blood on his cock. Her blood.
He could have stepped in the shower and washed it off, but he didn’t. Her blood felt like a badge of honor. He’d shower, just not yet. “I’ll be back.”
He should have stayed. He should have washed her and given her the assurances she needed, but he had so much fucking noise in his head he needed a time out. So he ran like a fucking coward to keep from following through with what he wanted to do. There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to climb back into bed, pull her into his arms, and fall asleep with her tucked safely against him.
He hadn’t a fucking clue what to do with that.
CHAPTER 17
Janel
Janel watched as Dozer disappeared out of the bathroom door. Why did he keep doing that? More like he ran out the bathroom door. Was he angry with her? Sinking down in the water, she let her head rest against the tub.
She had so much to take in. Her life had been upended in such a short amount of time. What she’d overheard Luc saying ripped her heart out. Everything she’d believed about James had been a lie. She couldn’t picture the sweet mild-mannered boy that she’d met would have been capable of such deception. How he must have hated lying to her. Or did he? Had she really known him at all?
She needed to talk to Luc. She needed to know if any of the things she and James had shared were real.
Then there was Dozer. She picked up the washcloth he’d left on the side of the tub, dipped it in the water, and let it run over her still sensitive breasts. Her bottom was tender and as she ran the cloth between her legs, it came away red from her virgin blood.
She was glad she no longer held the title of virgin. For a few minutes there, she didn’t think he was going to go through with it. He was used to having sex with experienced women; he couldn’t have enjoyed sex with her. Not with all the blood she’d seen on his penis. Was that why he couldn’t get away from her fast enough?
Soaking in the bath was nice, but she would rather have been held in his arms after such a monumental moment in her life. A frown pulled at her lips.
That’s where I’m wrong.
To Dozer, there was nothing monumental about it. She could have easily been replaced by Karma or any of the women she’d seen downstairs. She visibly shuddered at the thought of Dozer having sex with that nasty woman.
What she couldn’t do was mix sex with feelings. Dozer wasn’t wired that way and she needed to keep her emotions in check. He rid her of a problem and opened her up, literally, for the future.
The water grew cold before she’d found any clarity on anything. Dozer hadn’t returned as she’d gotten out and dried off with one of his dark gray towels. With it wrapped around her, she went back into the bedroom. He wasn’t there, but a neatly folded pile of clothes lay on the bed.
She reached for them wondering who they belonged to. Karma? Her dirty clothes on the floor would be more acceptable than to wear anything that belonged to that woman. Her need to be clean won out over the questionable clothing and she pulled on the fitted t-shirt and reached for the yoga pants when her gaze landed on the blood-stained sheets.
