Page 29 of Bristol

“Reaper and Kendra. Except she doesn’t know that it’s an engagement party,” he says, looking at me smugly from the sink as he turns the water off and wrings out the wash rag in his hand. He wraps it around his cock, wiping the me off him and I resist the urge to put him into my mouth.

He quirks a brow at me. “Do you need this?” he asks, extending his hand with the rag in it.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak as I take it from him. I wipe myself one good time for good measure then rinse the rag in the sink before hanging it over the side of the bathtub for now.

He pulls me into him, our naked bodies flush against one another. His lips press gently into my forehead, and I relax into him.

“Let’s get in bed,” he whispers, taking me by the hand and leading me to the bed.

I follow his lead, curling into his arms as soon as we’re horizontal.

“Goodnight, Bash,” I whisper, resting my head beneath his neck.

“Goodnight, Bristol,” he whispers, kissing my temple and tightening his grip around my body.

I drift off to a peaceful oblivion for hours until the images of being arrested haunt me in my dreams. I wake up sweating in a panic as I break free from Sebastian’s grip on me. He is startled awake, jumping out of the bed and taking in his surroundings.

“Sorry,” I whisper shyly, pulling my knees to my chest. Embarrassment washes over me and I want to hide. I want to fall over and die right here because the way Sebastian is looking at me makes me want to vomit.

He’s got a wild look on his face, similar to the one he donned the day I got arrested. Like he will burn the entire world to the ground to save me, the consequences be damned.

He waits a moment before he sits down on the bed, climbing in behind me. He pulls me into his chest much like the way he did when we were in the shower the other day. The warmth and comfort of him helps the weight on my chest to slowly ease and lift.

“Don’t apologize, babe. You went through some unimaginable shit and it’s expected that those things live in your head without your permission. You just need time. The more time passes, the less intense it will be.”

“I just feel so fucked up. I don’t know what’s up or down. And that time between asleep and awake, I’m thrown back into either that fucking jail cell or that stupid room I spent six years in.”

A tear slides down my cheek and it pisses me off, making more tears fall. I hate that I’m an angry crier. I don’t want Sebastian’s pity. I don’t want him to look at me like I’m some broken girl that needs someone to piece her back together, no matter how true that may be. It’s fucking pathetic. I’m not a charity case. I often wonder if that’s the reason he’s here. The reason he’s taking care of me.

His tattooed hands reach around my face, wiping my tears.

“I just want to sleep,” I whisper, feeling so fucking defeated.

Sebastian kisses my shoulder and I wince. The spot is tender from his bite, but it’s exhilarating.

His chest rumbles against my back with a laugh, lightening the mood.

“You may have a few little marks on your neck. And shoulder.”

“Good. I like that. Next time, I want you to bite me where I can see it.”

“That I can do,” he whispers, pulling me down into the bed next to him. He cuddles against me, holding me tightly in his grasp again. My body is exhausted from the nightmares and the orgasms. I finally sleep without another dream to wake me.

The sunlight peeks in through the curtain and I groggily open my eyes. It’s like I have to pull myself out of another dimension, like my body is encased in concrete and I’m dragging my limbs slowly out of quicksand.

I blink my eyes open a few times, looking around the room. I’m in Sebastian’s bed and he’s nowhere to be found. The clock on the nightstand says its ten in the morning. Shit. I wonder what time we have to be at this party? I sit up, listening. No sound of running water. No sound anywhere. Hmm. I reach for the phone he bought me that sit on the nightstand. I open it to text messages and see a message from him.

Sebastian: Don’t panic. I didn’t leave. In the kitchen. Come see when you wake up.

The message was sent five minutes ago.

I don’t respond. I go into the bathroom to pee, brush my teeth, and wash my face. I pull on one of his large tee shirts that drapes down to my knees and walk into the living room. Sebastian is in the kitchen and I glance at him over the bar that separates the two rooms.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he greets with a smile.

There’s a pot of grits and the toaster pops up four pieces of toast as I enter the kitchen.

“Good morning, hot stuff,” I muse, wrapping my arms around him and kissing his back.

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