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LILA
My eyes flutteropen to a half-naked Drix standing in front of me. “Am I dreaming?” I ask. “You’re only ever naked in my dreams.”
“Lila, please, this is hard enough.”
“As hard as the other night?”
“Lila,” he growls.
“If you think your growls scare me, then you're sorely mistaken. They do quite the opposite, in fact.” A giggle slips past my lips at the bewildered expression that crosses his face.
I quickly stop laughing, the shaking making my stomach turn. A few memories flash through my mind. Me dancing, Drix punching someone, and then me being in the back of a vehicle. I remember that I was in Drix’s lap. He’d cradled me in his arms. I swear he whispered the sweetest things to me. Oh gosh. I think I threw up…again. I’m not sure if I want these memories to be real or not. This might not be a dream but a nightmare.
“Lift your arms for me.” I do as he tells me. The next thing I know, my dress is up over my head. He balls it up in his hand and throws it into the small wastebasket in the bathroom.
I don’t really care. I hated the dress the second Mari made me put it on. I don’t understand how a dress with so little material could cost so much. I felt awkward, but Mari was right when she shoved a drink into my hand and told me I’d feel less awkward after I drank it.
“Are you going to give me one of those orgasms again?” Even with my stomach not feeling so great, I’d still be down for one of those.
“Lila.” He does the growl thing again.
“What?! I tried to do it myself, but it’s nowhere as good as the one you gave me. You've ruined me!” I shout the last part.
“The feeling is mutual,” I think I hear him mutter under his breath. “I’m washing you before the doctor gets here.”
“The doctor?” I ask as I’m lifted off my feet and Drix steps into the shower. I wrap my arms around his neck, my bare chest meeting his. I suck in a breath, my eyes falling closed. “I never realized how much I longed to be touched. You know what it’s like to go years with no one even hugging you?”
Drix puts me back on my feet but keeps me tucked close to him as his fingers brush up and down my bare back. When he doesn’t answer, I open my eyes and drop my head back to stare up into his handsome face. I can’t read the expression that’s currently on it. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Then why do you keep doing it?” When did I become so vocal? I guess what they say about alcohol being some sort of truth serum is true. Or maybe I’m just tired of not knowing where I stand with Drix.
“This is something we should speak on when you’re not drunk.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Right.” Drix turns me and pulls me under the warm spray of water before he starts to wash me. I’m only in a pair of panties that he left on me. He also has his boxers on. It annoys me, but I don’t comment on it because I think he’s right. I might be drunk, and I should watch what I’m letting come out of my mouth.
My eyes fall closed, and I get lost in feeling his hands stroke across my body as he washes me. He even shampoos my hair. When he’s done, he carries me out and dries me off before handing me a toothbrush with toothpaste already on it. I brush my teeth.
Drix slips out of the bathroom, coming back a few minutes later in a pair of sweatpants. “Hands up,” he orders again so he can slip a shirt on me. It’s his, so it's ginormous and falls to my knees. My breath catches when he bends down and slips my wet panties off. “The doctor is on her way up.”
He snags my hand and guides me out of the bathroom. It’s then I realize I’m in his room. I should have put that together in the bathroom but clearly I’m not operating with a clear head. He pats the bed for me to sit down. I do it and Drix starts to brush my hair.
A rush of emotion slams into me, and I’m unable to control the tears that slip free. “Shit, Lila. What? Are you going to throw up again?”
“No, sorry.” I swipe at my cheek as I hear a knock at the bedroom door.
“Give us a minute,” Drix says loud enough for the doctor to hear. “What’s wrong?” He drops the brush, putting his hand under my chin to make me look up at him.
“It’s nothing. I’m just not used to someone taking care of me.”
“I take care of you.” His brows pull together as confusion shows in his eyes.
“Not like this. This is different.” He sweeps at a tear that escapes with this thumb.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Don’t be sorry. Ignore me. You’ve done so much for me. I’m thankful.”
