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I frown as I try to understand the meaning of that statement.
He gently pulls out of me, eases my feet to the ground and he kisses me again.
Trying to erase the last twenty seconds, I smile. “Shower?”
He smiles broadly. “Are you feeling dirty, my beautiful slut?”
I smile shyly. “As a matter of fact, Mr Stanton, I am.”
I slowly wake to the sound of heavy breathing. Joshua is out cold next to me. Having sex for hours will do that to a man. He must be exhausted. I know I am. I sleepily trudge to the bathroom and return to the bed and lie down. Joshua throws his arm over my stomach and he leans over and kisses me while his eyes stay closed.
“Morning, beautiful,” he sighs sleepily.
I lean in and kiss his cheek. “Morning,” I smile.
He rolls to his side and winces, still with his eyes closed. “Shit … you must be sore.”
I giggle. “Yes, some sex fiend took his liberties from my body all night.”
With his eyes still closed, he smiles, grabs my behind and pulls me into him. “Yeah, well, you did put out the invitation to the party with that outfit.”
I giggle again and he kisses the top of my head. “What time is it?” he asks.
I shrug. “About nine I think.”
“Hmm,” he groans. “I have to get up.”
“Why?” I frown. “It’s Saturday. Can’t we stay in bed all day?”
He opens his eyes for the first time and smiles. “I wish, I have to train.”
I really am over this work-out shit. “You don’t have to train. I am making you breakfast, then I’m taking a shower with you and then when I want to go back to bed for a sleep you can go to the gym.” I smile sweetly.
He smirks. “Not happening, I’m going in twenty minutes.” He hops up slowly and walks to the shower.
I lie on my back. “Take note, I just put out an invitation and I got a decline,” I yell.
He calls back from the bathroom. “Not a decline, just a raincheck.” I roll my eyes, same shit.
I make my way to the kitchen and start to make my coffee. I need to ask him about that comment last night. It’s weighing heavily on my mind. Joshua walks through my apartment with a towel around his waist and opens up the front door. A bag is sitting outside waiting for him. Who put it there and why do I keep forgetting about those bloody bodyguards lurking around my apartment? He scoops it up and saunters back to my room as he smirks at me. Hmm what did he say again? I narrow my eyes as I try to think of the exact wording, nothing is wrong that’s what’s wrong. What in the hell does that mean? Does he want something to be wrong between us—haven’t we had enough wrong? I’m ready for right. I make him a protein shake, put some toast in the toaster and pour our coffee while deep in thought. How am I going to handle this? I can demand an explanation or I can try and work it out in time. Maybe he didn’t mean it. Five minutes later he walks out in a pale blue singlet and black sports shorts and runners. I hand him his shake.
He raises his eyebrows and smiles broadly. “Good service.” He gives me a wink as he takes a sip.
I turn and start to butter the toast and he sits on the stool at the bench.
“What did you mean by that comment last night Josh?” I ask as I turn. Oh great, just blurt it out why don’t you, so much for not saying anything. Idiot.
“What comment?”
“Nothing is wrong, that’s what is wrong,” I ask as I raise an eyebrow.
“Tash don’t, I’m not in the mood for this shit today.” He shakes his head in frustration.
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t want to talk about it—it was nothing.”
I give him a small smile as unease starts to fill me. He’s giving me mixed signals again.
