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“I think I’m going to throw up,” I say, swallowing hard past the lump in my throat just as the elevator opens to the penthouse.
“Hold on Angel, let me get you there,” Jay says, carrying me quickly through the living room and into an adjacent bathroom. He lowers me gently and pulls my hair from my face as I embrace the toilet bowl and start vomiting violently, round after round until there is nothing left.
I am still strung out over the toilet bowl, with Jay rubbing the back of my neck trying to soothe me through it when finally, about a half hour later, the dry heaves subside.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. Come on, up you go,” Jay says, lifting me from the floor into his arms and carrying me past the living room, through a bedroom down the hall, and into the bathroom that has a sleek black marble and chrome shower and matching whirlpool in the corner.
“I just want to sleep,” I say, the effects of the medication and my nausea leaving me wiped and just wanting to lie down and rest.
“You need a shower, and it will help your back.”
I scowl up at him, really wanting nothing more than to rest, and Jay’s eyebrows raise in response. “Angel, you can do this alone, or I can do it for you,” he says, leveling me with his dark hazel eyes as he settles my feet onto the ground.
He is six foot two of raw manpower and my sex clenches with desire at the way he just takes control. “You are such a bossy man,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.
Jay shrugs, and his lips turn upward in a smirk as he looks down at me. “I’ve been called worse. Now are you going to get into that shower?” he says, gesturing with a nod of his head towards the glass and steel enclosure.
“I don’t want to be alone,” I say, looking into his eyes.
“You won’t be, on my watch, Angel. I’ll step out of the room and let you undress, but I’ll be right outside in case you need me,” Jay says, turning the water on.
“What if I want you to help me wash,” I say, looking into his eyes, sliding my dress up my waist with a medicated smile, but something shifts in his eyes and before it’s halfway over my belly button Jay has pinned my hands in place above my head.
“Don’t try topping from the bottom with me, Angel, or you’ll find your ass on fire in short order.”
His husky voice and the sexy threat send an electric thrill down my body that ends and pulses right between my legs.
“I just wanted to have a little fun!” I huff, pouting, trying to tug my wrists free from the muscular arms that hold them above me.
“I think you’ve had more than enough fun for one night. You need to get cleaned up and heal,” Jay says, releasing my wrists and turning to adjust the temperature of the water.
“Shouldn’t I be the judge of that, lover boy?” Every muscle underneath that skin-tight gray t-shirt he’s wearing tenses and then flexes as he turns from what he’s doing in the shower. In two steps he’s hovering over me again, his eyes narrowed, allowing me to feel the intensity of his darkened stare.
“Don’t test me or the next time those two words come out of that delectable little mouth of yours, you’re going to find out what an incredibly luxurious bar of soap tastes like. Now get in the shower, Angel.”
What the hell is wrong with him? Most men take me up on my offers of sex. They may not want to hang around long afterward, but they usually always want to play.
“Fine!” I huff.
“We’ll talk about your attitude later, but for now you’ll find the shower on the gentlest spray. Let it wash over the wounds on your back. When you’re done in the shower, I’ll take care of the rest,” Jay says, turning toward the door.
I strip when I hear it close, and even before the soft pelting drops of the water rain down on my hair or skin, the tears begin to flow. Nobody wants me. Am I that unlovable? The embarrassment and shame of yet another rejection burn through me like fire.
How could I have come on so strong to Brian in the club tonight? It was pretty clear that he only has eyes for Jenny. I don’t know why I thought I could make him want me or why I even tried to get his attention. He couldn’t have been more honest with me after a few nights of fun. I had held out hope, for what I don’t really know, maybe that he would change his mind and suddenly want me in a way that I longed to be desired? Seeing the ankle lock Brian gave his new girlfriend at the club tonight was just too much. Why doesn’t anyone ever want to love me and keep me for their very own?
I went to the club to make him jealous, but as soon as my date saw the hot young male cover model with tousled black hair, tight jeans, and a white t-shirt, I became entirely invisible. The man who flirted with me after that made me feel better, made me feel wanted, so I accepted his request to follow him into the playroom. Anything to ease the feeling of being rejected and alone.
“Angel, I’m keeping track of your time. I want you out of the shower in three minutes. Otherwise, I’m coming in,” Jay says from outside the door, bringing me out of my reverie a short while later.
I’ve barely finished washing my hair, so I quickly lather in a deep conditioner before rinsing off, which will ensure I can get through the long tresses with a wet brush.
I step out of the shower and wrap a large cashmere towel from the warming station around my body, cringing as the material rubs against the wounds on my back, before tucking the ends between my breasts.
Jay opens the door to the bathroom. “Time’s up, Angel,” he says.
“Why do you think you can just barge in here? I invited you, and you said no,” I say, still smarting from his rejection, and suddenly feeling completely exposed, although thoroughly covered.
“Your time was up a few moments ago, and I wanted to make sure you were safe and not passed out on the floor,” Jay says, looking at his watch.
