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JEWEL
Iwoke up to a cool breeze on my back and a heated furnace on my front. I snuggled into the bed, seeking more of the heat. Rubbing my eyes, my knuckles grazed warm skin on their way up.
My heart stopped.
My eyes popped open.
Shit, I was in his bed. How could I have forgotten I was at Nicu’s?
Head pounding with a hangover, my eyes shied away from the thin rays of diabolical light piercing through the Venetian blinds. Memories flooded my slow-waking brain: drinking too fast, narrowly escaping a potential sexual assault, returning home with Nicu, sucking him off with relish, coming on his fingers, and then falling into a sleep fit for the dead.
I was presently cuddled into his chest, with him bowed over me, sheltering me from the world. My gaze shifted to the face slightly above mine. God, he was gorgeous. His tar-black hair curled up on the sides now that whatever hair product he used to tame it had faded away. A little notch marred the otherwise smooth olive skin between his prominent brows, as if he was thinking and scheming, even in his sleep. With the bold slash of his nose and his sculptured lips, he resembled a decadent god, maybe Dionysus. His mouth was parted slightly, and his breathing made adorable little snoring sounds.
Too much.
God, he was too much.
And this was before he opened his pale-blue eyes. I recalled how they deepened in anger or lust, like when they smoldered at me. I’d seen him around plenty of women, but I’d only seen that happen when he looked at me. A warm gooey feeling spread through my chest. I shouldn’t like it as much as I did, but the core of my femininity reveled in it. At that thought, I bit my lips, and a tiny giggle slipped out.
Instantly, his thick arms tightened around me, bringing me in closer.
A smile tugged at one side of his mouth.
He was awake.
Without opening his eyes, he made a low humming sound that sent blood pooling between my legs, igniting a cauldron of heat. He pressed his impressive cock, which had not escaped my notice from the instant I woke up, into my soft belly.
“I could get used to waking up like this,” he murmured, his voice a raspy growl that almost had me squirming against him.
I was about to retort that he’d better not get used to it, but I didn’t have the energy to let the snarky comment fly. We were too cozy. The moment was too intimate. My knee-jerk reaction to throw up a wall between us had vanished somewhere along the line last night. Something had shifted inside me. Was it that I still felt vulnerable about my father’s now-useless parole hearing? Or that Nicu had swooped in and saved me from a dicey situation of my own making? Perhaps it was that, time and again, he was there for me, no matter how hard I pushed him away.
Whether he was a bad-boy criminal or not, the fight was gone. I was an empty vessel, open for him to fill as he wished.
All I wanted to do was snuggle into him and let him take care of me. A decidedly unfeminist thought, but one I could no longer deny. I’d been taking care of myself for years, and for once, I was willing to lay down the sword and let someone else take over. The man had certainly shown that he wasn’t going anywhere, and there was no doubt of his capability to get the job done. He even seemed to take pleasure in being my protector. And after being my own protector for so long, it was a relief to turn the burden over to him for a little bit.
His hand clapped my buttock lightly.
“You were a bad, bad girl yesterday,” he said in that husky voice, eyes still shut.
I wiggled against his thick cock.
Licking my lips, I cooed, “I was, wasn’t I.”
His eyes slid open slowly, his lids lifting and revealing more and more of the brittle blue until I had two ice-cold eyes blazing into me.
“Don’t sound so proud of yourself,” he replied.
“You like me bad,” I teased.
His expression became stern. “I like you bad when you’re with me. When I have control of the situation. You’re free to do whatever you like when I’m around. But let me be crystal clear; I most certainly do not like you misbehaving when I’m not there to keep watch and protect you. That is unacceptable, and I won’t stand for it.”
I understood what he was saying. Even through the alcohol clouding my brain, there was no mistaking how upset he was at the prospect of anything happening to me. And I had been reckless. I had walked into a situation with strangers and hadn’t taken the necessary steps to make sure I remained safe. I could blame the girls, but it wasn’t their job to look after a drunk me. The fault was mine and mine alone.
Humbled, I lowered my eyes. “I understand.”
“Do you?” he asked dubiously with a cocked brow.
“Yes. You don’t want anything bad to happen to me, and something awful could’ve gone down yesterday.”
