Page 197 of The Unwilling Bride
This isn’t just him offering me a painkiller. This is James kneeling between my thighs, cleaning me gently, bringing me water, tucking me in. After he took my virginity.
It’s the kind of care I didn’t think he was capable of. It feels intimate in a way that goes beyond the physical.
I feel unmoored by the level of adoration I feel from him. My chest tightens. My skin feels too tight for the rest of my body. I feel almost lightheaded by the sensory overload.
I want to say something, but don’t want to break the moment.
I take the pill and swallow it down, then hand him the empty glass. He sets it aside, then smooths the bedcovers over and around me.
"Get some sleep."
It’s almost like his command sends a signal to my brain, for I find my eyes closing.
And in that moment between being awake and falling asleep, the question I’ve been wanting to ask him for a while slips out. “Is Angelina your ex?”
There’s a pause, then he murmurs, “She's a friend. We dated briefly. But it was over months before you walked into my restaurant.”
I flutter my eyes open, wanting to ask him another question, but he kisses me firmly. “Sleep.”
The command in his voice does the trick. I close my eyes and find myself sinking into blackness.
My last recollection is a whisper soft touch on my forehead and a soft voice which says, “But none of them were you.”
When I wake up, I’m alone in the room. I look around, wondering if I imagined that. But I am in his room, not mine. That’s when I notice the note on the pillow next to mine. I pick it up and read it.
Hope you had a good rest.I’m cooking dinner.
-J
I pickup my phone and notice I’ve slept for nearly three hours. That orgasm must have exhausted me more than I realized.
I sit up and stretch. When I walk back to my room, other than a very slight soreness, I feel fine. In fact, I don’t think I’ve felt this energized in a long time. I take a quick shower, pull on a pair of yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and thick socks. After I’m dressed, I head down to the kitchen.
I’ve seen James cook hundreds of times, but this is different.
He’s more relaxed, and it shows in his stance. And the fact that he’s wearing a T-shirt that molds to his fabulous body, and the same sweat pants.
When I get closer, I realize he’s not wearing any socks. There’s something so sexy about his naked feet. I want to suck them and see how they taste. I might have a foot fetish I didn’t know about.
"You’re awake."
I look up to find he’s walking toward me. He searches my face and nods. "You look refreshed."
"I needed that sleep."
He drops a quick kiss on my forehead. "Good."
Seeing me stare at him in bemusement, he inclines his head in inquiry.
"It’s nothing." I smile.
Then in a burst of happiness, I throw my arms around him and hug him. After a second, he hugs me back, lifting me up. He walks to the barstool closest to the cooking range and deposits me on it. When he steps back, I beam up at him.
He chuckles. "All good?"
"Very good." I nod.
"What do you want to drink?"
