Page 70 of Stolen Kiss

Emilia

I walkedout of the bathroom and into the guest bedroom with a small hand towel hanging off my shoulder.

I wished I could shower, but without my crutches, I didn’t know how I would make the walk from the tub to my bed. So I settled on brushing my teeth and washing off what little makeup I had left as best as I could before moving over to the bed.

I took off my clothes, saved for my panties, and put on a large black T-shirt that Jensen had given me to sleep in. It engulfed my upper body completely, with the hem falling mid-thigh. Once I took off my prosthesis, only a small nub of my limb would be sticking out. But Jensen, true to his word, had brought me to the guest bedroom and let me get ready on my own. He only came back once, to give me his shirt and a new toothbrush still in its packaging, and then he went off to his room and I hadn’t heard from him since.

I might as well have been alone in the house. It certainly felt like it, and I knew this was what I’d wanted, but a stupid part of me wanted to go find him and climb into his bed, letting him hold me as I slept tonight.

But I hadn’t counted on freaking out a bit when I realized he was touching my prosthetic leg.

When he had been kissing me so passionately, I had thought about nothing but wanting him to keep on kissing me, touching me, like he was. I didn’t want it to end. I wouldn’t have been opposed if he took me right then and there.

But then I felt his hand on my thighs, and…

I didn’t know what I was feeling. I didn’t even know why I was freaking out. I thought I had come to terms with my missing limb. That I wasn’t less than just because part of me was missing. But at that moment, I didn’t want him to look at me.

A small part of me was afraid he would look at it in disgust… that he would look at me in disgust. It wasn’t fair to him for me to think that, but the thought persisted, no matter what.

Now I was sitting in Jensen’s guest bedroom alone, wearing his shirt and missing him.

I let out a small sigh and took off the prosthesis, moving down the bed and placing it on top of the bench at the foot of the bed.

There was no point in going over the what-ifs.

I hadn’t been with a man in close to seven years.

The first few years of my “drought” were because of Jensen. I had compared our kiss, and him, to anyone else I’d been willing to get close to, and there weren’t many. They all came up lacking somehow, and I didn’t want to sleep with someone just to sleep with someone.

I wanted to feel something, and apparently, Jensen was the only man to have ever evoked any emotions out of me.

And the last few years were because I was self-conscious over my missing limb. I didn’t want to face rejection, but I especially didn’t want rejection from strangers I cared very little about. Now, I felt like a born-again virgin. Uncertain and inexperienced.

I was sure a man like Jensen had plenty of experience, especially with women who knew what they were doing to drive a man crazy.

I wasn’t really considered a sex fiend when I had been whole, and now…

What could I do to make him crazy?

What if I was nothing more than a disappointment in bed? Jensen would surely wash his hands of me.

My shoulders sagged at the thought and I turned over, trying to get some sleep.

The last thought running through my brain was there was no way I could fall asleep in a strange place.

* * *

My bladder woke me up.

Disoriented, I stumbled around for my crutches so I could use the bathroom.

My hand missed, by an inch, the nightstand where I always rested my crutches.I caught air instead.

I let out a yelp just as I fell on the floor, taking the blanket with me.

I let out a small groan and removed the blanket from my head before I braced myself on my arms and looked around the unfamiliar room.

Even in the dark, I knew I wasn’t in my room.

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