Page 49 of Breaking the Ice

She retched again but the banging was persistent and, as it was quickly becoming apparent that he wasn’t going to let her die in peace, she knew she had to get up and answer it. Rising on shaky legs, Samantha quickly gargled some water as she risked a look at herself in the mirror.

Oh hell.She looked bad. White as a sheet, swaying a little, her hair tousled.

“Okay, okay,” she shouted, as another volley of bangs thundered through the apartment. “I’m coming.”

Making it to the door on unsteady legs, Samantha unlocked it and yanked it open. Nick was standing at her door in shorts and a tee looking better than any man had a right to.

“Jesus. You look a fright.”

“Thank you. I am aware.”

“Are you okay?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I think I’m going to be sick again.”

Samantha left Nick standing at the door as she ran to the bathroom and vomited some more. She wasn’t aware he’d followed her until he was sitting on the edge of her bathtub, one hand gathering her hair, the other rubbing her back.

Part of her knew she should object. She really didn’t want him to see her like this. But the other part was glad he was here, murmuring nonsensical words as she continued to heave.

“Oh God!” she groaned as she sat back on her haunches, her stomach now completely empty. “I’m going to die.”

He chuckled as he produced a cool wet washer and mopped her face. “No, you won’t. It’ll just feel that way for a while.”

Samantha wanted to purr at how good the cold water felt on her flushed face as she shut her eyes and let him administer to her. “You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he chuckled.

It was such a soothing noise Samantha collapsed against him, her head on his knees and thought how nice it would be to have him here for her every night.

“Have you finished?” he asked gently a few minutes later.

She nodded. “I think the worst is over.”

“Come on then. Get up. Clean your teeth. There’s nothing worse than vomit breath.”

He helped her up and stayed with her while she dutifully obeyed. He was right. A fresh minty breath had an instant reviving effect and some of the fog cleared from her brain. She was still fairly inebriated but at least she could stand up without swaying now.

With his arm around her waist, Nick supported her as they returned to the lounge. Samantha pulled up short as she spied the Orgmaster still sitting in the center of the table.

Mocking her.

“Do you think you could stash that thing somewhere I never have to look at it again?”

He laughed and said, “Sure,” as he sat her on the couch then picked up the offending article, his eyes widening as he noticed the multitude of foil packets strewn around.

“You do know that you don’t have to use a condom with a vibrator, right?”

Samantha shot him a withering look. “Oh.That’swhat I was doing wrong.”

His eyes twinkled and a traitorous thought whispered,Plan B. But she quashed it, ruthlessly. Any hope she’d ever had of Plan B’ing him had just evaporated. The man had held her hair while she’d vomited into the toilet. He was about to play hide-the-vibrator for her.

He was obviously destined to be her friend forever.

“Any place in particular for this?”

“No.” She yawned as she lay down on the couch, suddenly feeling weary to her bones. “Put it in the fishbowl for all I care. If it’s not real, I’m not interested.”

Nick watched as Samantha’s eyes closed and she snuggled into the squashy embrace of the couch, her head on the arm. She was lying on her side, her bottom leg bent at the knee, her top leg stretched out along the length of the couch. The position emphasized the curve of her hip and the dip of her waist and the fullness of breasts barely held in check by the lacy, satiny cling of her nightdress.

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