Page 132 of By His Vow

The next time I wake, the room is still pretty dark, but it’s more than obvious that it’s daylight. The bed beside me is cold and empty.

I stare at the crumpled sheets, the only reminder that last night was real and not a part of my filthy imagination.

Desire stirs beneath my waist as I think about him in the shower.

Everything about it was perfect. Like it had been plucked from my dirty mind and played out right in front of me.

I banish thoughts of what happened after. If I dwell on it, I’ll only end up pissed off before I’ve even seen his face for the third day in a row.

I’m tired of fighting. Of being angry at him for…just being himself.

I’ve always known him to be a self-centered, arrogant jerk, so I should expect the bullshit he’s pulled. But it’s winding me up more than it ever has.

I need to let it go and just roll with the punches. It would be so much easier. And a lot less stress-inducing.

But it’s not going to happen. I spent years following the orders of a powerful man because I didn’t have any other choice.

The second I heard that Dad had passed, I vowed to never be under the control of a man again.

It’s almost laughable, what happened in the days following that promise.

No. I made the choice.

I could have said no.

I could have walked away from it all…

He’s still pulling the strings, a little voice says in my head.

He may no longer be here, but he still has control. He is still getting his way.

With bitterness sitting heavy in my stomach, I throw the covers back and march toward the bathroom. My steps falter the second my eyes land on the shower, and I immediately see Kingston standing there naked, his head tipped back and his cock in his hand.

“Fuck,” I breathe, and I attempt to force it from my mind and focus on what I need to do.

I need to forget about how hot that was, about the way I offered myself up to him, only to be rejected.

I refuse to feel less of a woman, of a person, because he apparently isn’t interested in what I have to offer.

But he is…there was no mistaking how hard he was before he fell asleep. His body wanted me. His head just clearly wasn’t on the same page.

Will I ever be more than Miles’s annoying little sister?

I step up to the sink and look at myself in the mirror.

I didn’t get a chance to take off my makeup last night, and I look like a trainwreck.

My eyeliner and mascara are smudged around my eyes, making me look even more exhausted than I feel. My hair is a disaster. It’s still up with a million bobby pins in it, but it’s all lopsided, a bit like I’ve had the best night of my life…

If fucking only.

I find my toiletries lined up on the counter, and after brushing my teeth, I set about removing the evidence of the night before.

I don’t bother changing, so when I step out of the bedroom a while later, I’m still wearing what I assume is one of Kingston’s t-shirts.

The second I pull the bedroom door open, sunlight sears my eyes, and my gaze locks on the view from the other side of the building.

Wow.

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