Then the towel drops. Sweet baby Jesus he dropped the towel!
My eyes snap right to his rear; it’s muscular, round, and there’s not a single sign of a tan line. He’s bronzed a golden brown all over…Damn. He’s changed, he went from Quicksilver hot to Tom Ford sophisticated. He bends over and steps one foot into the pant leg quickly followed by the other and pulls them up. I can’t stop noting all the changes to his body and have to curl my hands into themselves because I want to trace my fingers over every defined muscle.
His deep chuckle makes me flush red, shaking me out of my lustful daze. He’s standing before me with his shirt in his hand. My mouth feels as if I’ve been walking through the hot desert without a sip of water. My breath hitches. My reaction to him pisses me off. He’s always been able to make me flush red as well as act like a school girl with her first crush. Well, he was my first everything. Something about his carefree smile and the way he flipped his hat backwards had me every time. He smirks at me before tossing his shirt on the bed. Crossing the room to the desk, he pours himself a tumbler full of amber liquid and turns to watch me silently with his brow raised.
I move back a few feet to the chair. All of this has made me weak at the knees and I need to sit. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s not like I’m a virgin or some inexperienced woman, hell it isn’t like I’ve never been with him. He comes back over to me and holds the glass out to me. My first reaction is to smack that glass out of his hand, and I see his hand grip it tighter, seemingly reading my thoughts.
“Drink. It will help relax you.” There’s no mistaking the command in his tone, but this will be done on my terms. I grab the glass out of his hand and give him a sneer and chug back the small amount of liquid.
It takes a split second for the liquid heat to start burning. I jump up and make a big show of putting the glass on the side table. I try to cover the wheeze and know I failed when he laughs again. “You sip brandy, Skye. You don’t toss it back like a cheap shot.”
I narrow my eyes in annoyance. “No shit! That would have been nice to know before you were a drill sergeant and ordered me to drink.” The heat of the brandy is now mixing with all the food I ate. A small groan escapes, and I clutch my belly. I can see the concern on Preston’s face. He steps forward and I hold up a hand stopping him, not sure if I’m going to throw up yet and not wanting to do it on him if I do.
Preston turns and grabs his shirt off the bed and as he’s putting it on he says, “I’m going to run to the boutique in the lobby and pick you up something to sleep in.” He takes an appraising look at me. It’s clear he’s giving me some space since it’s obvious I don’t feel well. If my stomach weren’t hurting so badly I would have some smart comment for him. I don’t like that he is going to put me even more in his debt.
“You don’t have to, I can make do. Plus, it’s eight o’clock at night. Are they even open this late?” I won’t mention that he more than likely wouldn’t get my size correct. After being on my own for so long it’s hard for me to imagine the luck I am having in the last day. When I woke up this morning in the women’s shelter my backpack was gone; the only reason my guitar wasn’t taken is because I slept spooned with it.
“They’re open until nine. I’ll be back.” He grabs his wallet and heads out the door. Who the hell does he think he is, The Terminator?
My body isn’t used to this much food or any alcohol, and I’m feeling sick as a dog. I go into the bathroom and wet a washcloth and press it to my face. The nausea slowly calms down. I straighten myself and mentally give myself a pep talk. I've gotten through worse, I can get through this. I need to relax. After my day, a hot shower is just what I need.
I swiftly peel off my clothes and discard them on the floor. I hope he can find something in my size because I don’t think I can stand to put those dirty rags back on, after all they were torn to hell today and dragged across the sidewalk. I really wish I had my backpack at this point. I only had a few things, but they were clean and mine. I turn toward the shower and make it as hot as I can take it. Stepping in, I quickly wash my hair and body with the soap the hotel has provided.
I’m starting to feel better as I step out, my body and mind not on high alert for once. The suite is clean and has no lingering scent of stale cigarettes or sex. It’s reassuring to know that I won’t have to worry about someone breaking in to do me harm. I look in the bathroom mirror and run my fingers through my hair, trying to untangle my curls.
I don’t have the energy to wash my clothes in the sink, so I scoop them up and dump them in the shower. Picking up the liquid body soap, I squeeze some on the heap and turn the spray on high. The powerful spray rapidly washes away the soap and takes with it some of the Hollywood grime. I’m on autopilot as I wring out the few items and hang them on the towel bars. If he can find me something else to wear, I won’t have to worry about whether they will be dry in the morning.
I wrap a towel around my body and listen to see if Preston is back. I hear only silence, so I go out into the room. I notice his dress shirt is still on the bedroom floor, so I decide not to stand here in a towel waiting for him to get back and grab it. The crisp white shirt engulfs me to my mid-thigh, so at least I won’t have to put my dirty panties back on. I feel exhausted as I button it up, it could be the fact that I feel safe. I seldom feel safe. My home was not a safe place for me, and the life I have had since I left has put me even more on my guard. The only times I can ever remember feeling safe were with Preston. His scent wraps itself around me, it’s comforting and smells like home.
He was my safe place, he was my home. I take a deep breath and open the door to walk back into the room. He still isn’t back, which gives me time to get cozy on the chair so he can’t argue, perfect. I pause in the middle of the room, taking stock, then head to the closet and find just what I’m looking for, an extra blanket and pillow. An expensive looking garment bag is hanging in there, but I’m so tired physically and mentally that my curiosity has left me. I have so many questions for him. But I won’t ask, at least not tonight.
I take my bedding and go over to the chair, pushing the smaller ottoman flush with it to make my makeshift bed. I step back once I have made up my bed and smile. I’m very pleased with my little setup and I give myself a small hug. For the first time in a long time I’m relaxed. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, feeling that same safe feeling of being with him again, then mentally shake myself because he left. He isn’t my safe place any more. It’s terrifying how just his scent can affect me.
I hear fumbling at the door and hurry into my little bed. I know this is so ungrateful, but I want to avoid any conversation. I face myself toward the door out of habit and relax my face, closing my eyes. My heart is pounding so loudly as he opens the door, I swear he must be able to hear it.
Preston is very quiet as he walks in. I can just see enough of him through my thick lashes to know that his eyes briskly scan the room then settle on me. He stares for a moment at me, but I can’t read his expression. I slow down my breathing and relax my face and body. I’ve had plenty of practice doing this, from all those times my father would storm through the house looking for me. My pulse picks up at the thought of being in that situation again. I will not let my mind take me there now.
He quietly walks over to the desk and drops his purchases, then moves toward me. He stands right in front me and leans down. Crap. I’m screaming in my head and chanting don’t move, just breathe! His hand moves toward my face and I fight the urge to react. It’s a physical art to be panicking on the inside and not flinching as I feel his knuckles caress my cheek.
“I’ve missed you so much, Detka,” he murmurs to himself.
I almost didn’t catch what he said because my heart is beating so fast.
He walks over to the bed and I see him insert his thumbs into the band of his shorts and pause. He looks over at me and removes his hands, then shuts the light off next to the bed and climbs in. The room is in complete silence and it only tak
es a few minutes for his soft snores to fill the air. It takes me a little longer to relax into my makeshift bed.
I’m woken out of a dead sleep being dragged out of bed by my hair. “NO!” I scream and start my struggle to get free from him. I’m quickly backhanded across the face; I can taste the metallic blood from a split lip. The pain from these types of beatings no longer has the ability to shock me. I kick with the heel of my foot, feeling it connect and a curse soon follows. The only word I am able to form is ‘no’ and it’s being screamed at the top of my lungs, “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!” The tears are flowing down my face as I try to beat him off me. I feel my face being firmly grasped into his hands as I try to break free. I’m in a full-blown panic. This will not happen again without my putting up a fight, I don’t know if I can live through this again.
A heart-wrenching sob escapes me and with all my strength I kick out again, then a new voice breaks in. “For fuck’s sake, Skye... WAKE THE FUCK UP!”
I can’t escape, his strength overwhelms me…but that new voice…it’s home and I let the tears run free.
“Skye!” My face is given a little shake. “Skye, open your eyes. Fuck...Open your eyes NOW, Skye!” At this command my eyes pop open.
I look at my surroundings through my tears. It takes me a moment to realize where I am. I look up into his face and whisper, “Preston?” He moves into action and scoops me up into his strong arms and takes me to the bed. I immediately start fighting him but he sits on the side of the bed not letting me go from his arms. “Stop!” he barks at me. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
He lets his grip on me loosen and pulls the sheets back so I can get in. When I move all the way to the other side of the bed, he climbs in beside me. I’m still whimpering, trying to control the tears that continue to fall. He curses and reaches over, curling an arm around my waist and pulling me flush to his front. I start to kick my legs again, I’m half asleep but unable to control the fight reflex even though I know its Preston. He throws one of his legs over mine to keep me still, then wraps his arms around me firmly, holding me tight. I jerk a few times.
“Stop, Skye! Sleep. Just sleep.” He moves one of his arms to cradle my head and moves my hair back from my face. “Relax now, it’ll be alright. Just like old times.”
I swallow hard as memories from the past flash through my head. Memories of how he would hold me when I slept, and how he would drive the demons of my mind away. The scent of him surrounds me and his gentle touch on my temples relaxes me. He has me firmly secured next to him, and I find the restraint of his arms so comforting. I’m so damn tired, it’s not long before I’m drifting off to sleep.
Eight
Her tiny moans have woken me up from one of the most peaceful sleeps I’ve had in a long time. My arms are still secure around her, but the comforter has fallen off us during the night. Her soft body is pushing back into my morning erection and though I have tried so hard to be a gentleman and not make her feel uncomfortable, right now I want to forget my manners, pin her down, and fuck her into tomorrow. But I have enough control not to ravish her on the spot; my mind knows she was having a dream and not inviting me to take advantage of her.
Her moans quiet down and she starts snoring, it’s rather cute. While she’s asleep in my arms, the previous night plays back in my head. I had hoped she wouldn’t still suffer from the nightmares, but it’s worse than I feared. She was a little hellcat, blindly fighting me off when I’m twice her size. I’ve always admired her spirit and the fire she possesses, but she was terrified last night. I’ve spent the past few years fantasizing about having her in my bed again, I can’t let her go.
The California sun is in full effect this morning, lighting up the room. She starts fussing in my arms like she has been doing on and off all night. But when I gently stroke her hair, she settles back down. I glance at the clock, it’s only 8:30 am. I'm reluctant to leave the bed just yet, her soft form fills my arms perfectly. I have missed this so much.
My shirt that she’s wearing, hugs her curves the way it has twisted in her sleep. It has ridden up, leaving her bare from her waist down. The roundness of her hips has my attention. My dick jumps in anticipation, and I have to mentally give him a ‘down boy.’ It might be time for me to leave the comfort of the bed and make use of the shower.
After my shower, I pull out an old T-shirt I had packed. When I unfold it, I see the fates are working in my favor. It’s my Guns N’ Roses shirt that she bought me at a concert. It holds such good memories and has always made it feel like she wasn’t so far away. Now she’s here, and I don’t want that to change, so my task is to convince her to drive back with me.
When I walk back into the room she is still sleeping, and I wonder when the last time she had a full night’s rest was. Seeing her laying there, a punch of guilt slams into me. She doesn’t understand that I had to leave. I just have to find the right time to explain it all to her, if she will let me.
I move over to the side of the bed, tempted to caress her face and run my fingers through those caramel strands. Fuck I’ve missed her so bad.
“Skye.” I keep my voice soft so I don’t startle her. “Wake up, Detka.”
Her eyes slowly peek open and the glazed green looks like the moss after a summer’s rain at home. Fucking stunning. The soft look on her face changes, her eyes narrow, and I swallow because I know that look.
“Don’t call me that.” She scrambles and sits up pulling the blankets up to cover her.
“What, Skye? That’s your name.”
“Detka… don’t ever call me that again.” She gives me a stony glare.
I hold my hands up. “I’m sorry, it slipped out.”
“Is that the same shirt from when we were in high school?” she blurts out.
She’s always been good at changing the subject when she doesn’t want to talk about something. For now I won’t press too hard. I know she has the ability to shut me out completely and I can’t risk that, not now.
“Yeah, it is.” I take pity on myself and break eye contact, walking to the window to watch the cars going by while I gather my thoughts. Out of the corner of my eye I see her scanning my body. Maybe there is some hope. I turn back to her and she quickly looks away.
“These are for you.” I point to the few bags on the table.
“You didn’t have to do that, but thanks.”
“It was nothing. Do you want me to drive you anywhere? Back home maybe?”
Her eyes are filled with expression. She doesn’t even have to speak, and I can see her mind working. She has a look of what looks like resignation on her face. She visibly swallows then clears her throat. “Palm Springs? You moved back home?”
Both my eyebrows raise at her question. “I never moved away, Skye, I was only gone for three months.”
“Oh, well I didn’t know, you know… cause I wasn’t told,” she says in a dry tone.
Ahhh yes, there’s her spirit. She stiffens her spine and sits up a bit straighter, turning toward me. Now the buttons on the shirt are giving me the perfect view of her cleavage. Damnit, now is not the time to start thinking with my smaller brain.
“Eyes up here, buddy,” she snaps as she waves her hands and points to her eyes. I make eye contact and give her a small smirk waiting for her to speak. “Yes, it’s time I went back. I haven’t been able to find work here, obviously.”
Well, well, well... my little firecracker is willing to go back. I don’t think she would take it well if I did a happy dance. “Okay, I’d like to head out shortly to beat traffic.” I’m so damn elated that she has agreed. I thought I would have more of a battle on my hands when I finally found her. Play it cool, buddy, if she thinks you want her back, she will do the opposite.
It’s evident she is relieved and relaxes slightly, murmuring, “Thanks, I’ll make sure I get gas money for you when I get home.”
I bark out a laugh and shake my head. “I don’t need your money.”
She gives me a nonchalant shrug. �
�I don’t like being in anyone’s debt.”
“Well, whatever the case, I won’t take your money.” She must forget I’ve been in her debt for years, all the things she’s bought and given my family.
“I’ll go and get dressed then so we can be on our way.” She rolls out of bed and rushes over to the desk, grabbing the bag and slipping into the bathroom.
When she comes back into the room, I find myself giving her the same treatment she gave me. Eyeing her up and down, I break my intense stare and try to focus on the TV. After last night I’m sure she feels a little vulnerable, and I can’t help the urge to protect her, my past failure always on my mind.
“Enjoying the view?” she mimics my tone and has a sarcastic smirk on her face.
My face twitches by the corners of my mouth. “Yes, I am.”
She grits her teeth, and I can tell she’s fighting back a scathing remark. My eyes follow her across the room as she paces back and forth. It’s nice to see some of her habits haven’t changed.
I slowly rise from the bed and grab my bag. “Ready to hit the road?”
“Yep, let’s get this over with.”
As we walk through the hotel, I’m aware of the looks we are getting. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bob has already been notified that she’s been found. Well, it won’t be by me, I haven’t done his dirty work for years. Those days are long gone. We wait at the valet podium as they pull the car up, and I watch her face as she takes a good look at my baby. I love this car.
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