Page 69 of Stitched Up in You
I’ve got to get out of here.
I make it a point to never stay overnight anywhere; it saves me a lot of headaches. No awkward goodbyes, no attempts or dates that aren’t going to go anywhere, and no drama. Just sex and no commitment.
Frank sighs, his dirty blonde brows deep slashes on his rugged face, his usually sullen and flat mouth smooth and at rest, and I can’t help noticing how very handsome he is.
I ease up and turn my torso to get out of the bed to not wake him, reaching one foot out and scooting myself across the bed, making sure to not adjust the covers.
Much like Cinderella, this was only for a night. It’s time to make my getaway.
The memory of what happened the last time I stayed overnight in a man’s bed comes to mind, and the promise I made myself so many years ago.
I glance back at Frank, wishing things could be different as a wave of possessiveness flows through me.I don’t want to leave. But I can’t stay.
My emotions are a jumble, and a heaviness locks in my chest as I withhold a sigh and rise to slip from the bed.
I curse the tall as fuck bed as I practically fall out of it getting to my feet.
Tiptoeing across the thick carpet, I grab up my glasses from the nightstand and start putting my clothes back on as I make my way to Frank’s door.
Holding my breath, I twist the doorknob, thankful when it makes no sound, and enter the hallway to head back to my room.
Every move I make reminds me of the night before, and the many pretzels I was put into as soreness lines my muscles, butafter a few steps I relax and let my shoulders drop, trying to walk normally.
“Where are you going?” Frank calls out behind me.
My shoulders stiffen as my face scrunches momentarily into a wince. Fuck.
I stretch a smile across my lips as I turn around on the balls of my feet, embarrassment at getting caught ricocheting through me.
“Oh, hey, big guy. I’m so sorry if I woke you. I’m just heading to my room to shower,” I tell him, shivers dancing across my skin at how his gaze blazes orange, lighting up the dark hallway.
“I had a really good time last night,” I tell him, feeling more than awkward when he just stares.
Finally, he moves, taking a step toward me, and I bite my lip, forcing myself to stay still as he makes his way down the hallway to me.
I shiver in place at just how damn big he is as he eclipses me, lumbering over me like a giant.
“It's 3 a.m.,” he says, his voice like gravel.
“Oh good. Maybe I’ll have time for some sleep after a shower then and check on Edgar,” I say. My stomach flip flops, and I fight to keep from wriggling in place as his stare hardens and his lips turn to grim lines.
“I fed him while you were sleeping,” Frank says, and my stomach plummets.
“Umm, thank you. It was an absolute blast, and I’ll see you later, okay?” I say, diving inside my room and shutting the door before I make a fool of myself and beg him to take me back to his bed.
My heart beats like it’s about to evacuate my chest, and my gaze lands on Edgar Allan Paw lying at the end of my bed, flicking his tail.
A frown pulls across my face when I reach to pet his soft coat, noticing how he looks freshly pampered. Purrs erupt from his chest as I rub his belly, and it dawns on me he’s so soft because Frank brushed him.
I groan, and my palm hits my face.
He fed and brushed my cat. He even made me drink a glass of water before letting me pass out last night, after delivering more orgasms than I can count, especially with how they started to run together one after the other near the end.
Frank Stein is shaping up to be someone I could very easily fall for, and isn't that just the scariest thing in the world? It could be Stockholm syndrome, or the best cock I've ever had in my life, but one thing’s for certain: there's something wrong if I'm thinking my best friend's kidnapper might just be the perfect boyfriend material.
FRANK N. STEIN
My fingers twitch as I pace the smooth stone floor of my underground retreat, trying to rein in my temper before I inadvertently start another weather storm outside. The soft swish of my jeans reverberates through the cavernous room with each step I take across the cold surface, my muscles bunching in repressed rage as I take a firmer grip on my power.
