“This is every guy’s dream, to be sitting on the bathroom floor, holding back a girl’s hair while her head is in his toilet bowl. You’ll never look at this toilet the same again.”
“I’m sure I won’t. It was christened by a beautiful girl who most guys would kill to have throw up on them.”
I roll my eyes at him. I shouldn’t have done that, my eyes are throbbing in my head. I moan, and he places his hand on my back and gently rubs. I swallow and try my best not to throw up again.
“You feeling a little better?”
“No, but I don’t think I’m going to throw up again.”
“Come on, let’s clean you up.”
“No, just leave me here on the cold, hard floor. I deserve this; this is what I get for being a total slut!” He runs his hand up the back of my neck to get my attention.
“Look at me. I don’t want you talking shit about my girl, especially when it’s not true. I’m against violence of any kind against women, unless it’s done to give them pleasure, but if you keep talking like this, I might have to rethink that.” He ends his last sentence with a smile.
“I’m not your girl. You have another girl. I’m fucking things up for you and everyone else.”
“Trust me when I say you’re not fucking anything up. It was already fucked-up. I’m the one to blame for that, not you.”
He takes my hands and slowly helps me up. A wave of nausea hits me, and I lean against him. I feel awful, but I’m still aware of his body and the heat. He feels warm and solid. God, I need that.
Holding me steady after I rinse my mouth out, he says, “Let me help you; you need to take these off.”
He reaches for the hem of my shirt. When my stomach is exposed, I instantly freeze and push his hands away.
“You need to take a bath, but I’ll leave, if you want me to.”
He puts his hand down, I sway a little, and he holds me steady again. I have to make a decision: stay in my filth orlet him help me. I know I can’t do it by myself. My head feels like it’s about to explode. “Help me, please, but don’t look.”
“How am I going to do that?”
“Close your eyes, and feel your way through it.”
He smirks, looking down at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It would be my pleasure to feel you up.”
I look up into his beautiful smug face and narrow my eyes at him. “If I had the strength, I would slap you.” I close my eyes when another wave of nausea hits me. He takes my hands and places them on his shoulders.
He’s so close, he whispers in my ear. “Hold on tight, Cat.”
It’s not a choice. If I don’t, I’m going to fall flat on my face.
Feeling his hand on my thighs, I breathe in and lean my head against his rock-hard chest. He runs his hands up the sides of my thighs to my waist. His fingertips graze my sensitive skin as he fists the hem of my shirt in his hands. His skin doesn’t leave mine for a second when he opens his hands and presses his palms flat against my skin. He slides them up the middle of my back, carrying my shirt up, while his fingertips make swirling motions against my skin.
He whispers in my ear, “Raise your arms for me.”
I do as he asks. I feel his hands slide up the back of my neck as he pulls my shirt up over my head, over my arms, and drops it to the floor. His hands feel good on me, warm and soothing against my skin. I don’t want his hands to leave me, and they never do. He trails them back down the same path until he reaches the small of my back. I sigh, my eyes shut tight. He stops and pulls me in so close that I’m pressed fully against him. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean my head against his chest, listening to the strong steady beat of his heart.
When he slides the tips of his fingers between my skin and my underwear I catch my breath and hold on tight. The palms of his hands glide over my ass, and in one smooth motion, my panties and my skirt slide down my legs and drop to the floor. His hands are on the back of my thighs, and I feel the heat of my wetness against my inner thigh. His hands move back up my ass to the small of my back and span my waist. He holds me close for a minute and then effortlessly picks me up.
He sits on the side of the tub with me on his lap. I never open my eyes…I trust him. This is the Nick who has looked out for me since I was a little girl, who took me to the movies, who teased me when I had my first date, and who threatened to kick the guy’s ass if he laid one finger on me. This is the Nick I dream about, the one who said he would always take care of me, the way he’s taking care of me now. It feels good to imagine I could have this all the time, and he could be mine always.
I hear the water running, and it’s like raindrops on my windowsill, lulling me to sleep. My eyes are so heavy that I can barely keep them open.
The only thing I hear is the sound of the water, and the only thing I feel is the rise and fall of Nick’s chest against me while his powerful arms are wrapped around me. I’m safe. I feel the warmth of the water against my skin as I slide into the wetness, and the darkness of the night washes over me.
Cat
Mmm…I try to openmy eyes, but they feel heavy. It’s a major effort trying to open both at the same time. I’ll try opening one first and see how far I can get. I slowly pry one eyelid open. The sliver of light that peaks through has me slamming my eye shut. At the same time, a sharp pain slices through my eyeball up to the front of my head. I moan and grab my head. I think it’ll be safer to keep my eyes shut permanently.