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I clear my throat, my eyes still glued to the bulge under the towel. “Yes, I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”
His lips turn up in a knowing smirk. “If you say so.” He tosses the towel he used for his hair into a hamper near the bathroom door, but makes no attempt to move. “Nice shirt, by the way.”
I peer down at it again, my fingers tugging at the hem. “Yeah, about that… I know I didn’t come here in any clothes. When your club showed up, I was—"
“In bad shape,” he interjects gently. “We wrapped you up in a blanket and brought you here. And in case you’re wondering, I believe it was Blair who brought you the shorts.”
“And the shirt?”
“Oh, that’s mine. One of my favorites.” He laughs. “Actually, it was the first thing I bought when I left the church.”
My eyes grow wide. I can’t keep the surprise out of my voice when I ask, “You bought this? Wouldn’t that go against the whole religious thing?”
He shrugs. “Probably.”
I consider that, but not for long. I remember how terrible I smell, and I bet I look even worse. Though, I am curious… “You still owe me the story on that, by the way.”
“I do. How about I tell you after you get cleaned up. I’ll grab you a fresh set of clothes and see what’s left in the kitchen. It’s Saturday, so the ladies should have gone all out. Anything you’d like in particular?”
“Surprise me.” And it will be a surprise, seeing as I’d never been given a choice of what I wanted to eat. The club chose for me.
“I can do that.” He tips his head to the side. “Think you're up to eating with the club today? Meet some of the guys and the ladies?”
The thought of meeting everyone makes me feel a little uneasy, but I say, “Okay.”
“No pressure, Boo. None.” His gaze lingers on my face. “How about I bring the food up and we can eat in here. You’ll meet everyone soon enough.”
He moves away from the door, and I make my way inside. The scent of his body wash lingers between us, a mix of sandalwood and spice. The same scent I’d smelled on his sheets.
“I’ll be back with food and clothes.”
As soon as the latch clicks and I’m completely alone inside, I rest my forehead on the wood separating us, listening to his footsteps as he moves about the room. When the clunking of his boots on the floor can’t be heard anymore, I turn toward the mirror. The steam from the hot shower has fogged it up, which is probably for the best. I don’t know what I look like right now, and I don’t want to.
Stripping away my borrowed clothes, I fold them neatly and lay them on the counter by the sink. Pulling back the shower curtain, I step inside, hissing when the hot spray hits my skin, stinging every wound on my body. Cursing, I plaster myself to the tile wall while fumbling with the handle, trying to adjust the temperature. After a few seconds, I stick my hand out and test the water.
So much better.
I tip my head back and moan as the stream rolls over my aching muscles, melting away the tension. It’s not until I look down that I see just what a mess I’d been. The water circling down the drain at my feet is pink from the blood, mixed with dirt and other filth.Gross.
Spying a bottle of Priest’s body wash, I squirt some into my hands. The smell brings me a surprising amount of comfort as I lather up and run it over my skin. Though I like the idea of smelling like him, I can’t help but wonder what kind of life he leads here with his club. I notice the lack of feminine shower products, so there’s either no particular woman in his life, or there’s a rotation of them. I don’t believe for a second I’m the first woman to shower in Priest’s room.
He probably fucks them in their rooms. This is his place, his sanctuary. Women don’t belong in here.The hateful thoughts assault my mind in Alan’s voice, causing my blood to run cold.
“No,” I growl low, angry that Alan’s abuse is so ingrained in my psyche, it even reaches me here, in a place he has no business being.
A soft tapping on the door pulls me out of my manic thoughts. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I call out over the splashing water.
“I have your clothes. I’ll put them on the counter.”
“Sounds good. Thank you.”
Doing a second wash of my hair, I do one last thorough wash of my skin, and when the water finally runs clear, only then do I turn off the water and step out.
Making quick work of drying off, I pick up the shorts. They’re similar to the ones I had woken up in, with cutouts running along the sides. The T-shirt is huge, and I can’t help but giggle at the black cat with devil horns under the nameLuci-Purr.It’s like he’s on a mission to rib God.
Slipping on the clothes, I take the toothbrush Priest had left, out of the wrapper, and scrub my teeth until they look like they’ve been polished. I also find a hairbrush in a drawer under the sink. I look somewhat presentable when I finish, but for some reason, I feel nervous about leaving the bathroom. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt safe doing things as simple as showering, dressing, even brushing my teeth.
