Trying not to assume he’s beyond insane and left the space for me, I find a drawer full of t-shirts and help myself to one. Unfortunately, there’s not a pair of boxers or underwear to be found.
I guess James was being completely honest when he said he doesn’t wear them.
Crap.
The memory of his ass pops into my head, uninvited, as I grab a pair of his sweatpants and pull them on.
Like the suit he’s wearing, it should be considered a sin for a guy to have an ass like his.
All round and juicy with those dimples above it.
The kind of ass I wish I had.
And it’s not just his ass.
His entire body is fantastic.
The man is literally a walking, talking, breathing sin.
I roll down the waistband of the sweatpants three times so they’ll stay up then shuffle my way back to the guest room, feeling like a complete clown.
His clothes are way too big for me. The blue t-shirt I pulled on nearly goes down to my knees and the crotch of the black sweatpants is so long it’s hard to walk in them.
Beggars can’t be choosers though.
I take comfort in the fact that only a seriously desperate man would find anything sexy about the way I’m dressed. If I’m lucky, they’ll completely repulse him.
As if they can sense I’m going to bed, Fluffers runs up the stairs with Mitzy chasing behind her.
“Where have you been?” I grumble as I swoop down to pick up Fluffers and snuggle her in my arms.
I haven’t seen her since James left. It’s not necessarily unusual because she likes to find little cubby holes to hide and sleep in, but it made me nervous.
Fluffers looks up at me and gives me an apologetic meow.
Sighing, I give her gray head a light scratch and tell her, “It’s okay. Just stay where I can see you from now on.”
We need to be ready to run at any second, and I can’t run without her.
I could never leave her behind.
She’s like my child and the only family I have left.
Without her…
Meowing again, Fluffers leans into my head scratch as I carry her into the guest bedroom.
Sitting down in the hallway, Mitzy pants as she looks up at us expectantly.
“Are you coming, too?” I ask her before I close the door.
Yipping, Mitzy runs happily across the threshold and jumps right on the bed to pick out her spot.
At least she has manners, I think as I close the door, unlike her owner.
It’s probably futile, given that this is his house and he seems to have a way around locks, but I lock the door anyway.
I know it won’t keep James out, but it might slow him down a little bit.
Falling asleep is impossible. I just keep tossing and turning, unable to get the pictures I found out of my head.
Pulling Fluffers up to my chest, I pet her by rubbing my palm slowly up and down her back. Usually the motion and softness of her fur calms me down. Her purrs soothing whatever ails my heart.
But even her love can’t help me tonight.
I’m anxious and antsy about James coming back now that I know what I know.
Eventually Fluffers gets annoyed with me and crawls up to my pillow to sleep above my head.
Mitzy was snuggled against my stomach, but even she seems to lose patience with my constant movement. She ends up moving to the other side of the bed.
I try to quiet my mind. Try to give into my exhaustion.
I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in days, and with all the crying I’ve done, I’m beyond tired.
But every little interaction I’ve had with James replays behind my eyes.
My brain connecting the pieces.
James pushed me away when he could have had me and he’s been stalking me ever since.
Why is he stalking me?
Why did he push me away?
Is it because of my father? Like Simon said? Did he push me away because of my father, and now that my father is dead—
I don’t hear the door to the guest bedroom swing open, but a beam of light from the hallway suddenly hits me in the face. I blink my eyes open long enough to see James’s dark form standing in the doorway then quickly close them and pretend to be sleeping.
Doing my best to keep my breathing steady and even, my ears strain, listening, as I sense him walking silently in the room. Moving as if he’s one with the shadows.
The light behind my closed eyes darkens a few seconds later, and I know he’s looming over me because all the little hairs on my body stand on end, pointing in his direction like he’s magnet.
Even now, my body is drawn to him despite all the shit in my head.
Time slows to a standstill as he stands beside the bed.
A shiver crawls down my spine as I feel the weight of his eyes upon me.
Is he going to do something psycho? Like try to smother me in my sleep?
Just as I have that thought, the covers are suddenly ripped off me.
I shriek and flail as he grabs me and hauls me up in his arms.
“What are you doing?!” I demand.
Squeezing me against his chest, his nostrils flare before he grumbles like he’s annoyed, “Carrying you to our bed.”
There’s that word again. Not his. Not mine.
Ours.
“I’m perfectly happy with this bed!” I protest as he carries me out of the room and into his.
Jaw tightening, James doesn’t respond. He just marches right up to his bed and dumps me on it.
Landing on my hands and stomach, I push up and brush the hair out of my eyes.
Only to see James standing beside me, unbuttoning and removing his suit jacket.
A little nervous thrill courses through my body.
And it’s wrong, so very wrong.
I shouldn’t find the sight of him removing his suit jacket thrilling. Especially when I’m afraid he might kill me.
But there’s something about his hands that’s incredibly sexy.
Fuck, I’m seriously losing it.
What is this man doing to me?
I’ve never found a man’s hands sexy before. They’re just hands…
But other men don’t have hands like his. Not only big and strong, but incredibly deft as they flick through his buttons.
Hating myself for what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, I start to scoot off the bed, totally intending to make a run for it when he stops me with a warning.
“I wouldn’t do that.”
Tossing his suit jacket onto a chair, he begins to work on the cufflinks on his white shirt.
I tip my chin up and give him my best glare, hoping it will hide how anxious I am. “I’m not sleeping in here with you.”
Cufflinks removed, James loosens the tie at his throat and says, “This isn’t up for discussion.”
I gasp at his audacity. “Excuse me?!”
Who the hell died and made him my—
Fuck.
I shove that thought away and keep my ass firmly planted on the bed.
Tugging his black tie out of his collar, there’s no hint of humor in his eyes.
No hint of a smirk on his lips as he says seriously, “It’s not up for discussion, Sophia. You’ll sleep where I tell you to.”
I gasp again, sucking it in shrilly this time, ready to lay into him.
“I saw what you did to the window.”
Shit.
All the steam goes out of me, chilled by the worry that he might punish or hurt me for that.