Page 25 of Rebellion

Devils and Angels.

Coño, I was tired. There were two bedrooms on each side of the large center hallway. All four doors were shut. One had to be Tate’s room and I fully admitted to being nosy enough to want to see what his own private sanctuary was like.

I opened the first door on the left and found a bland guest room done in leather furniture, dark wood and painted sage green. No way Tate spent time in there. The second door on the left was similar, only painted in a cornflower blue. These were obviously for my guys.

That meant Tate had put me next to him. The first door across the hall I hit the jackpot. A canopy bed, minus the canopy, but instead, mirrors, various hooks and other metal fixtures that could be for nothing other than some serious rope play.

Instead of wall art, a whole display of paddles hung over the head of the bed, and instead of dressers or bedside tables, they were two cupboards with glass doors filled with sex toys galore, instruments of pleasure and pain, and a lifetime supply of lube. Mmm, cherry almond, cupcake, and even maple bacon flavored. Quite the smorgasbord.

I nosed around for a few minutes. I didn’t want to get caught sniffing, aka tasting, my way around Tate’s room. I yawned and stretched. Nothing sounded better than to crash into a soft bed, forget ninety percent of this day ever happened, and try again tomorrow.

The last door in the hall opened to a strange sight. I hadn’t known what to expect after seeing Tate’s room, but not this. The room was an almost exact duplicate of my bedroom in the townhouse back home.

I wasn’t sure if this was creepy or caring in its amazing attention to detail.

The walls were a sumptuous caramel color, the silk bedspread, the palest of pinks, even the prints on the wall were museum quality prints of the artwork I owned. The door to the walk-in closet was open and I could see the clothes I’d brought hanging. Even my phone and tablet were plugged in and on the nightstand. If my favorite vibrator was in the drawer, I’d see if I could find my way out of this Twilight Zone, because that would be a little creepy.

I yanked the drawer open. A few of my favorite curvy girl romance novels were in there, but no vibrator. Phew.

Still, this room was both completely comfortable and totally weird, and I’d think about it tomorrow with a rested mind. I plopped down on the bed, kicked off my heels and tried to drift off. In my mind, I’d fall asleep instantly, not even stirring until the next morning. The reality was my brain still went a million miles a minute, even as tired as I was, sleep was far off for me.

An orgasm would go a long way toward relaxing me, but for the first time since I took the step into this new sexual role I simply didn’t feel like it. I didn’t want to play, I didn’t want the guys in my bed, and I didn’t even want to masturbate. That was damn sad.

I rolled over and grabbed my tablet. A quick check to see if I had any email, then maybe play some Bejeweled to quiet my mind.

Cade had sent an email and I replied to let him know we’d arrived safe and sound. I deleted the email from my father without even reading it. I paged through a few newsletters I’d subscribed to and some notices from Facebook. And an email from Gray.

Cojeme. I couldn’t catch a damn break today. My finger hovered over the delete button. He’d been on my mind for the past eleventy-hundred hours. I’d even hallucinated that I smelled him here in Texas. Why did I do this to myself?

Somehow, while eyerolling myself, I clicked on the email and opened it. I sure as shit meant to hit delete.

Angel,

What a beautiful disaster we are. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve kicked my own ass during a sleepless night that I could have had you in my arms.

I’ve rewritten this damn line a half-dozen times trying to explain, to rationalize, to make you understand why I left. But those false starts show me again what a stupid, irrational, and angry mistake I made.

Now, I fear I’ve lost you for good.

I tried to catch your plane before you left this morning, but the universe was against me at every move and every god-damned red light. It must be my punishment to have to wait that much longer to be with you again.

I didn’t think you’d take my call, instead, I’m sending this note so you get it when you arrive in Texas, and so you know I’m thinking of you, I want you.

And what a fool I am. An utter fool.

Forgive me.

—Gray

Umm. Mierda.

I mean... really... what the fuck? He’s sorry? Now?

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Like I’m supposed to be all pickled tink he wants me back. Am I supposed to let him into my life again?

No way.

My heart beat so hard in my chest that I started sweating. I could feel each tiny shred that Gray left it in pulsing and vibrating.

My hands shook and if I didn’t move, I’d throw up, or have a stroke, or write back.

Bad idea.

The room was plenty big enough to pace in, and I patrolled one end to the other cursing Gray with each footstep. What if he came down here? What if he was already here and at the Ranch? That had to be why I thought I smelled him earlier tonight.

I could hurricane my way back down to the party and bluster and blow until he showed his face. Or I could hole up here in my new bedroom and make him wait.

Oh, yes. I was officially changing my name to Mistress Make-‘em-wait. Bastard.

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