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I sat there for a few minutes, wondering if he'd come back and order me onto my knees or something, shove his dick down my throat—I could imagine all kinds of acts he might make me do, some of them making me a bit achy inside.
But nothing.
He didn’t come back.
After about ten minutes of sitting in front of the television, I went down the hallway and stood outside his bedroom. I checked under the door and realized he'd turned off his bedroom light.
He'd gone to bed.
Totally surprised by now, I went to the bathroom across from my own bedroom and brushed my teeth once more to get the taste of whisky out of my mouth, then went to my own room and changed into my nightgown.
Finally, I climbed under the bedcovers, amazed at the turn of events that had led to me being in Hunter's apartment, in a separate bed, wondering when we'd actually fuck and what he'd make me do.
The night passed slowly. I didn’t sleep well, being in a strange huge bed all alone in a strange room. I woke up several times, wondering what Hunter had planned for the morning. I slept in fits and starts, and finally, woke up at six, jumping up and slipping into the bathroom for a pee. I glanced at myself in the mirror.
Call girl. Not even a high-class call girl.
I turned on the shower and stepped inside, wishing I had the foresight to bring a fresh pair of underwear, but whatever. I'd stop off at my dorm on the way to class.
I finished washing and stepped out into the steam-filled bathroom, grabbing a huge fluffy towel, which I wrapped around my body. I brushed my hair and then my teeth, and considered myself in the mirror.
Hunter knocked at the bathroom door.
"Yes?" I said hesitantly.
"You're up already," he said, his voice sounding amused. "Eager beaver."
I frowned, not sure whether he meant the double entendre. "I had a terrible night’s sleep."
"That's too bad. As for me, I slept like a baby."
I had started to put my clothes back on when he jiggled the doorknob. "Come on out. I need a bath."
"I'm getting dressed."
"Don't bother," he replied. "I'll just end up undressing you. Although that might be fun…"
I put down my bra and stopped dressing. Then, I wrapped the towel around myself again, frowning. I opened the door a crack and saw Hunter standing there in his black boxer briefs. Steam billowed out of the door.
"You're really going to go through with this, aren’t you?"
His eyes narrowed. "You thought I was joking?"
I frowned. "I thought you were more honorable than that."
"I'm not."
I took in a deep breath and opened the door fully, leaving the bathroom with my clothes on the floor.
"What do you want me to do first?" I said, not meeting his gaze, because I knew he'd be grinning. "Shall I get on my knees? You must have liked that the other day. Maybe on all fours? Or on my back?"
I couldn't keep the hurt out of my voice, despite the fact that even making those suggestions made me wet, my body betraying my mind.
"I was thinking of a bath. Nice and warm to help with these," he said and when I glanced up at him, I saw the bruises he pointed to. They looked nasty and must have hurt. "Some of those bath salts would be good. Then, I want breakfast and coffee."
My cheeks heated and I said nothing. Instead, I marched to his bedroom, past his huge four-poster bed, and into the huge ensuite bathroom with its soaker tub. I bent down and started the bath, feeling the water to make sure it was nice and warm but not too hot. There was an unopened jar of bath salts beside the tub, with a scoop attached. The scent was some tropical flower.
Hunter entered the bathroom and watched me while I worked.
