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Closing my eyes, I leaning back into the bath pillow. I concentrated on the feel of the soft bubbles and silky water stroking over my skin. Or tried to. My mind went right back to Kaiser.
I bit out a curse and dipped further into the water to soak my hair. It was hard to shove him out of my mind when jealousy curdled in my belly. A jealousy that hounded me because I knew he’d find another woman at the club to play with tonight once he realized that I wouldn’t be there. He’d hardly do without sex merely because I wasn’t available.
Really, for all I knew, he played with other women regularly. The Vault was open twenty-four/seven; he might well go there on weekdays too. He could be sleeping with different women on different nights. After all, he’d recently gotten out of a relationship—a lot of guys in such a situation liked to go drown themselves in pussy for a while.
Resurfacing from the water, I leaned back against the pillow again. I couldn’t lie, it made my stomach hurt to thinkthat I could be one of many women Kaiser was sleeping with. I was entirely too possessive of him, and I tried my best to hide it.
I wasn’t sure how I’d act if I saw him with someone else. Maybe a little similar to how he’d acted last Saturday, when he’d materialized at my side in the dome just as a guy had reached out to touch my hair.
Kaiser had caught his wrist fast and said, “You don’t want to do that. Not unless you want me to break every finger you have.” He’d then taken my hand and led me away, leaving my friends gawking.
I hadn’t interpreted it as a proprietary display, though. Nah. It hadn’t felt territorial. It had felt more like the kind of thing you’d see with a kid at preschool who didn’t want a classmate to play with a toy they liked.
In Izzy’s opinion, I nonetheless shouldn’t be so inclined to brand it nothing. But she couldn’t deny that I made a good point when I noted that if he truly was possessive he’d have suggested an arrangement by now. It was better that he hadn’t, really. I was no one to him, but that wasn’t quite a two-way street.
There were times I asked myself what the hell I was doing regularly sleeping with a guy who had so much power over my emotions when said guy felt nothing for me. It was stupid, no matter what way you looked at it. But I didn’t have it in me to walk away. Not yet. My sense of emotional self-preservation was faulty when it came to him.
I sat upright, annoyed with myself for giving him so much headspace. Needing to give myself something to focus on, I squirted some shampoo onto my hand and then lathered it into my hair. That was what I’d do next, I decided; I’d take everything step by step and try to keep my mind centered on each act. So that was what I did—rinsing my hair, shampooing it again, giving it another rinse, applying conditioner, soaping my skin, and then finally giving my entire body a rinse.
My bath was hot and long and bubbly, and it eased the tension from my muscles. But it did nothing for my brain, which was totally wired—the damn organ just kept chewing over what Kaiser might be doing and who he might be doing it with.
Calling myself an idiot, I stepped out of the bath and onto the fluffy rug. I snatched my towel-robe from a nearby hook, slipped it on, and then swiped a small rolled-up microfiber towel from a shelf. Once I’d wrapped the towel around my hair, I padded into the master bedroom. With the pastel colors, soft lighting, cool satin sheets, cozy reading nook, and walk-in wardrobe, it was as soothing as it was lavish.
After I’d dried off, styled my hair, and pulled on a camisole and shorts, I went downstairs. In the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of red wine and then headed to the main sitting area. There, I settled on the textured upholstered sofa opposite the wall-mounted, huge-ass TV. Bright and airy with a welcoming feel, it was one of my favorite rooms in the house.
Remote control in hand, I skimmed through the movies on the streaming service I preferred. In a funk, I eventually settled onTaken, knowing that no comedy would make me laugh right now and that no romantic movie would do anything other than irritate me.
I’d planned to go straight to bed after it was over, but my thoughts were still racing, so I threw on another movie.Scream.I was about forty minutes into it when the intercom beeped.
I frowned, since people generally didn’t just turn up at midnight unannounced. Grabbing my cell from the coffee table, I used the security app on my phone to check who was at the gate. I didn’t recognize the car. Using the app’s speak option, I answered, “Yes?”
Someone leaned out of the driver’s window toward the intercom post, and my breath caught. I knew that face. Knew it far too well.
“Let me in,” said Kaiser, all demand.
Well, hell.
Again using the app, I opened the security gates. I paused the movie, set down the remote control, and then stood. This was … well, I didn’t really know what to make of it. He’d never come here before. I mean, he’d dropped me off at the gate on the way home from the Vault, but that was as far as he’d gone.
Painfully aware that I wore only a camisole and shorts and not one scrap of makeup, I made my way to the front door. I didn’t open it until he rang the bell, needing those precious seconds to get my racing heartbeat under control. And there he was—a smoldering sex dream come to life. One that didnotlook happy right now.
His brows drawn together, he strode inside. “What the fuck?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You didn’t show.” It was a stiffly spoken accusation. “At the Vault. You didn’t show.”
“Well … no.”
He swept his gaze over me, his jaw tightening. “Why?”
I was about to point out that I owed him no explanations, but he stalked further into the house before I had the chance to speak. “Won’t you come in,” I said dryly, closing the door.
I trailed after him as he strode toward the main living area, seemingly following the sound of the TV. Inside, he scanned the large space, his shoulders tense.
Confused, I watched him from the doorway. “If you’re looking for my grandmother, she has her own wing.”
He didn’t say anything, still glancing around the room. A little tension eased from his shoulders as he spotted my glass of wine. Which I did not whatsoever understand. It was just a freaking glass, there was no reason for … Asingleglass, I thought. One glass, not more.
