Rowan, I appreciate the offer, but…” She paused, staring up at him with a confused look on her face and a delicate shudder shaking her shoulders.
“At least give me a chance to explain. And to get you a fresh set of clothes.”
* * * * *
There it was again…that pain, etched so clearly into his eyes that it pulled at her heart. She wanted to be repulsed, to curl into herself and hide until the tow truck came to take her away from this place. But looking at the hurt on his face, she couldn’t help but feel the need to comfort him. Lily crossed her arms over her chest and fought the urge to go to him.
“You have until the truck gets here,” she said, knowing the chilly tone in her voice was undeserved. Was it really? she asked herself. After all, he’d not told her a thing about himself before taking her to bed.
But he had tried to tell her. It was her fault for stopping him. She’d told him to tell her later because she’d been so absorbed in the budding physical relationship that she didn’t care about words. Never had she been so eager to get in someone’s pants before. Shame burned her cheeks, and she tried to force away the thoughts of her depravity.
“Come with me,” he said, his tone gentle and coaxing. “Let me get you fresh clothes.”
Against her better judgment, Lily followed Rowan back through the house and into his bedroom. The feathers had been cleaned and the bed made—she had to wonder if he kept stacks of mattresses hidden somewhere just for the occasions when he tore them to shreds. The marks on the floor were hidden by an area rug, and despite her attempts to ignore it, her eyes still traveled back to the center of the bed…where she’d spent the night in his arms and woken up alone. Beneath the shirt, the scratches on her hips ached.
“I am afraid I do not have women’s clothing lying about,” he said, breaking her concentration, “but I hope these will not be too big on you.” He handed her a pair of jogging pants and a T-shirt. “I do apologize for your clothing. I will have it replaced.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she heard herself say, and wondered where her voice was coming from.
“The wash room is through that door.” He pointed to a paneled door the same color as the walls. “I will fix you some breakfast while you clean up.” Before she could argue, he disappeared, pulling the door closed behind him.
* * * * *
A sharp chill ran up Lily’s spine.
This was not how she meant for things to happen. From the time she’d left the house, Lily intended to walk out of his life and never return, yet here she was again in his bedroom. With him going downstairs to cook her breakfast.
Lily didn’t feel much like eating.
As her thoughts battled her hormones, she closed the bathroom door and turned on the water as hot as it could go. Which, as it turned out, was pretty damn hot. Turning it back to avoid scalding herself, she grabbed a cloth from the basket on the counter and used the hand-soap to clean the wounds on her hips. Each one, she found, was a small, round prick about the size of a pen-tip. They had already clotted over and begun to scab, but the warm water stung anyway. More bruises blossomed up and down her body, finger-sized marks that showed her just how possessive his lovemaking had been. She remembered the feel of his hands on her, the raw energy coursing between them and the need to feel him control her.
Frustrated with herself for falling back into the memories, Lily threw the rag into the sink, dried her body off, and pulled on the clothes he’d given her. When she opened the bathroom door, the smell of bacon slammed into her empty belly.
* * * * *
Rowan had to force himself not to stare at her when she came into the kitchen wearing his clothes. She’d had to roll the pants at her waist to keep them from dragging the floor, but the T-shirt fell over the curves of her breasts so deliciously that he had to shake himself
“At least give me a chance to explain. And to get you a fresh set of clothes.”
* * * * *
There it was again…that pain, etched so clearly into his eyes that it pulled at her heart. She wanted to be repulsed, to curl into herself and hide until the tow truck came to take her away from this place. But looking at the hurt on his face, she couldn’t help but feel the need to comfort him. Lily crossed her arms over her chest and fought the urge to go to him.
“You have until the truck gets here,” she said, knowing the chilly tone in her voice was undeserved. Was it really? she asked herself. After all, he’d not told her a thing about himself before taking her to bed.
But he had tried to tell her. It was her fault for stopping him. She’d told him to tell her later because she’d been so absorbed in the budding physical relationship that she didn’t care about words. Never had she been so eager to get in someone’s pants before. Shame burned her cheeks, and she tried to force away the thoughts of her depravity.
“Come with me,” he said, his tone gentle and coaxing. “Let me get you fresh clothes.”
Against her better judgment, Lily followed Rowan back through the house and into his bedroom. The feathers had been cleaned and the bed made—she had to wonder if he kept stacks of mattresses hidden somewhere just for the occasions when he tore them to shreds. The marks on the floor were hidden by an area rug, and despite her attempts to ignore it, her eyes still traveled back to the center of the bed…where she’d spent the night in his arms and woken up alone. Beneath the shirt, the scratches on her hips ached.
“I am afraid I do not have women’s clothing lying about,” he said, breaking her concentration, “but I hope these will not be too big on you.” He handed her a pair of jogging pants and a T-shirt. “I do apologize for your clothing. I will have it replaced.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she heard herself say, and wondered where her voice was coming from.
“The wash room is through that door.” He pointed to a paneled door the same color as the walls. “I will fix you some breakfast while you clean up.” Before she could argue, he disappeared, pulling the door closed behind him.
* * * * *
A sharp chill ran up Lily’s spine.
This was not how she meant for things to happen. From the time she’d left the house, Lily intended to walk out of his life and never return, yet here she was again in his bedroom. With him going downstairs to cook her breakfast.
Lily didn’t feel much like eating.
As her thoughts battled her hormones, she closed the bathroom door and turned on the water as hot as it could go. Which, as it turned out, was pretty damn hot. Turning it back to avoid scalding herself, she grabbed a cloth from the basket on the counter and used the hand-soap to clean the wounds on her hips. Each one, she found, was a small, round prick about the size of a pen-tip. They had already clotted over and begun to scab, but the warm water stung anyway. More bruises blossomed up and down her body, finger-sized marks that showed her just how possessive his lovemaking had been. She remembered the feel of his hands on her, the raw energy coursing between them and the need to feel him control her.
Frustrated with herself for falling back into the memories, Lily threw the rag into the sink, dried her body off, and pulled on the clothes he’d given her. When she opened the bathroom door, the smell of bacon slammed into her empty belly.
* * * * *
Rowan had to force himself not to stare at her when she came into the kitchen wearing his clothes. She’d had to roll the pants at her waist to keep them from dragging the floor, but the T-shirt fell over the curves of her breasts so deliciously that he had to shake himself
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