Chapter 17 - Dreams
I squinted, covering my eyes as I cracked open an eye. Everything in my body ached. My head throbbed and my stomach churned—both casualties of having overindulged the night before. Reaching out, I grabbed a spare pillow and yanked, trying to cover my face. The pillow didn’t move, stopped by something heavy. Turning, I saw him. I had to still be fucking drunk.
Rubbing my eyes, I looked to my side again and saw James sprawled out and naked at my side. The sheet had slipped below his waist, showing off a very erect and hungry-looking cock.
I turned away, staring at the ceiling and wondering exactly how fucked up I had been. I didn’t remember him coming over—or even inviting him, for that matter. I bit my lip while trying to remember the events of the previous night.
I remembered leaving the club with help from Mia, and the girls bringing me inside. I didn’t remember the car ride at all. Although hazy, I remembered them leaving me dressed on the couch before I heard the door close.
How the fuck had James gotten here? Did I have sex with him again and this time didn’t actually remember it?
Covering my face with both hands, I played the night before back like a movie. Drinks, home, sleep…and then Green Eyes. I’d thought I’d dreamt him showing up in my house and scooping me off the couch, but I hadn’t.
The churning in my stomach increased as liquid climbed my throat. After rolling out of bed, I ran to the bathroom and slammed the door. I grabbed the toilet, not bothering to lift the lid before I emptied the contents that were coming out one way or another.
Heaving over and over again, I prayed for something cool and comforting. As the urge to throw up passed, I rested my head against the cool plastic toilet seat. “I’ll never drink like that again,” I whispered. “Just make me feel better and I’ll swear off alcohol forever,” I promised God, even though I knew it was a vow I wouldn’t be able to keep.
Moaning, I sprawled out on the tile floor, resting my cheek against the cold surface. I hated being cold, but right now, it was the only thing I craved. My body was covered in sweat and I felt like I was on fire. When I closed my eyes, the only sound I heard was my breathing as I wished for death or sleep. Anything was better than how awful I felt.
“Up you go, beautiful,” James said as he scooped me into his arms.
“Leave me here,” I whispered, wishing for the cold tile instead of the heat from his body. “I wanna die.”
“Shh. I’ll make you feel better,” he whispered, feathering kisses against my forehead.
“Don’t even think about sex,” I groaned, lifting my head to look at him.
He wrinkled his brows and smirked. “I’m not an asshole, doll. It wasn’t even a thought in my mind.”
“What’s that poking me in the ass?” I said, laying my head against his chest.
“My dick has a mind of its own.” He laughed, gently placing me in my bed and pulling up the blankets.
I touched his arm, running my fingers along the bandage. “What happened?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Nothing for you to worry about, Izzy. Just a small wound,” he said, cupping his bicep in his hand.
I kicked at the sheets, using all my energy to keep the heat at bay. “I’m so fucking hot. I don’t want blankets,” I whined, moving the sheets off my body and sprawled out stark naked.
“Kinda hard not to think about fucking you when you’re lying like that, Izzy,” James groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.
“Stop looking and make yourself useful.” I closed my eyes and motioned for him to go away.
“What would you like, mistress?” he asked, a lightness in his voice.
“Fetch me something cold, and medicine for my head.” I dismissed him with my hand as the corners of my lips twitched. I wanted to laugh but stayed in character. The playful side of James was something I hadn’t really experienced before, but I sure as fuck liked it.
“How about I grab a giant fan and keep a cool breeze flowing across your skin?”
I opened my eyes, taking in the sight of James standing at the end of my bed, naked as the day he was born, with a smile on his face.
“Leave me in peace. Go fetch my things,” I demanded, throwing my arm across my face to block out the light.
“Right away.”
I moved my arm, making space enough for me to watch him walk away. I giggled softly as his beautifully naked ass strutted toward the door. He looked over his shoulder and winked, catching me peeking at him. I didn’t have the energy, or else I would’ve thrown a pillow at him before he walked out.
I rubbed my face, trying to calm the throbbing in my head. It felt like the drummer from Anthony’s band was inside, banging away on the cymbals.
The bed dipped, and I opened my eyes to see a smiling James staring at my flesh like a rabid dog. “Down, boy,” I teased, pushing myself up on my elbows. “The last thing I’m thinking about is sex.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, handing me the aspirin and water. “It’s all I can think about when I’m around you.”
“Do men ever grow up?” I asked before placing the pills in my mouth and taking a gulp of water.
“I sure as hell fucking hope not.” He took the water from my hand and set it on the nightstand.
Lying back down, I sighed and closed my eyes. His fingertips began to trail a path up my arms, moving gently across my skin. The light touches made goose bumps break out across my body. Shivering, I sucked in a breath as he drew a tiny circle on the space between my breasts.
“James,” I whispered, my breathing altered by his movements. “Why are you here?” I opened my eyes to look at him.
He smiled as he guided the hair away from my face. “You didn’t call me like I’d asked. I was worried, so I jumped in my car and headed over.”
“What if I were with someone?” I asked, biting my lip.
“Wouldn’t have happened,” he said, lying down next to me, resting his head in his hand.
“How do you know?”
He cupped my pussy, gripping it in his hand. “This right here is mine.”
“Actually, it’s attached to me,” I said, smirking at him.
“I thought we’d cleared this shit up already.”
“That you’re a caveman pig? Yes, that we’ve agreed upon.” I laughed, grabbing my head as the pounding made me wince.
“God’s paying you back for those nasty words.” He snorted, increasing his hold on my core. “You agreed to let me back in, and ‘in’ means the entire package. No one else touches what’s mine, especially when it’s attached to your body. It’s the only thing I care about.”
“James, you’re getting all mushy. I don’t do mushy.”
“I know, doll. You like it rough.” He laughed, dragging his hands from between my legs to my thighs. He began to trace small circles down my legs before starting the same path upward.
“Shut the fuck up,” I whispered. “Hey, how did you get in?”
“Broke the door down,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What the fuck? Jesus, you could’ve knocked.”
“Iz, you didn’t hear me bust open the door, so you sure as fuck weren’t going to hear me knock.”
“I’ll get you a key so you don’t have to break any more of my shit.”
He grabbed me by the waist, pulling me against him.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I shrieked, trying to inch away.
He nuzzled my neck as his hand mindlessly stroked my ribs. “Tell me how you really feel.”
Using the last bit of strength I had, I slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re still a cocky bastard.”
His face grew serious as he looked down at me. “Izzy, I want to tell you that I—”
I covered his lips and shook my head. “Don’t,” I said, swallowing hard, afraid of what he was going to say.
He smirked and spoke against my finger. “I think you should brush your teeth.” He broke into laughter, the entire bed moving under his weight.
I closed my eyes, thankful and a little bit hurt that I’d jumped to the conclusion that he had been about to profess his undying love to me. We weren’t ready, and I sure as fuck could barely think the words, let alone say them. I cared for James. No one fucked me like him. He had the mix of animalistic sexuality that I hadn’t known I’d wanted.
“Fuck off,” I snapped, lashing out at him as I rolled from the bed. “You’re not smelling as fresh as a daisy either.”
“Better than vodka vomit,” he replied, covering his mouth as he laughed.
“Patron,” I said, hanging my head and vowing to never drink tequila again. “He and I go way back.”
“Tortured love affair?” he asked as his eyes followed me in the mirror next to the bathroom door.
“Story of my fucking life,” I said, smiling at him.
He stretched out across the mattress, looking at home in my room. Closing the door, I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. “Fuck,” I muttered, moving my face closer to get a better look at my reflection. Smashing my cheeks, I blinked twice, hoping it was just the alcohol affecting my vision. No such luck. I looked like death. Heavy black bags had formed under my eyes with my mascara smeared all around them, framing them and drawing attention to the nightmare.
I grabbed a washcloth and a bar of soap and washed all evidence of the night before away. Brushing my teeth, I tried not to gag. Toothpaste and vomit didn’t make the task easy. I cupped my hands together to pool water in my palms before bringing it to my mouth and swishing it around.
When I went back into the bedroom, I still felt like shit, but at least I thought I looked better.
“Let’s talk, Izzy.” He patted the mattress next to him and motioned to me with his hand.
I rolled my eyes, pain shooting through my head by the simple movement I’d done a million times. “Now? I’m too sick to talk.”
“It’s the perfect time to talk.”
“Ugh,” I whined, sliding in next to him. “Why?”
“’Cause you aren’t as big of a smartass when you’re like this, and I need you to be serious for a few minutes.”
“Oh boy,” I whispered.
“Just shut it, woman.” He placed his finger over my mouth. “I’ll talk, and you pipe in when you don’t agree.”
“So no talking?” I asked, knowing that wasn’t going to fucking happen.
“If that’s possible,” he said, and laughed.
“Not a fucking chance.”
He rubbed his eyes, trying to hide the smile on his face. “Izzy, I want to give this a shot between you and me.” He paused.
I stared up at him and blinked.
“I know I can be demanding—”
I giggled, covering my mouth and quickly turning my face back to stone.
He sighed and continued. “I am demanding. I need control in the bedroom. It’s hard to explain it.”
“Are you a swinger?” I blurted.
“Fuck no. What kinda shit do you have in that head?”
I shrugged and waited for him to go on.
“I don’t want to control your life. I want a partner, but inside the bedroom or anywhere I’m taking you…I’m the boss.”
“Okay. I don’t have any complaints when it comes to you and sex.”
“Good,” he said, and smiled, lightly touching my cheek. “Are you into kink?”
I smiled. Kink should be my middle name, but I’d play dumb for his sake. “Like what?”
“Why did you call me master when we had sex?” he asked with one eyebrow cocked.
“Felt right, and I was being a total smartass. I’ve been to a kink club in Tampa with my girlfriends once or twice to check shit out.”
“What?” he asked, his eyes growing wide.
“You know. We were curious. There was so much talk on the news about submission. We wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” I shrugged, feeling my cheeks turning pink as heat crept up my neck.
“Did you do anything when you were there?”
“James, I may have been easy for you, but I don’t just fuck around with every cock that comes my way.”
He sucked in a breath. I thought I’d given him a little too much information.
“Let’s just say it was eye opening.”
“Did you like what you saw?”
“Let’s say it piqued my interest.”
“Did it make you wet?” he asked, running his knuckles down my cheek before resting his hand on my neck.
“Some things.” I smiled, heat spreading throughout my body.
“Which things?”
“Have you been to one of those clubs?” I asked, throwing the question in his court.
“I have.”
“Really?” I whispered as images of James dominating women flooded my mind. “Tell me more. Do you like to hit women?”
“Fuck, I’m not a sadist, but I like to dominate women sexually.”
“Women or me? I don’t think I could handle you doing shit to other women.”
He laughed, rubbing his nose against my cheek. “I want to dominate you, Izzy.” He nipped my ear. “No one else.”
“Not in a club either,” I said, turning to face him.
“Never. I don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine.”
“I’m willing to try everything once.”
“You’re a natural submissive, Izzy,” he said, smiling at me.
I reached up, laying my hand against his forehead, and laughed. “Are you feeling okay? One thing I’m not is a submissive, James.”
“You didn’t say no when I told you to strip and handcuffed you to the bed.”
“I liked stripping for you. It was sexy.”
“And the handcuffs?” he asked, touching my wrists where the cuffs had been.
I closed my eyes, remembering the feel of him overpowering me and being unable to stop him. It sent a tingle through my body and made my pussy convulse. I opened my eyes and shrugged.
“It was all right,” I said, pursing my lips.
“Sweetheart, I remember how hard you came when I tied you up. Don’t lie to me,” he said, running his finger across my bottom lip.
“Arrogant,” I whispered, licking his finger with the tip of my tongue.
“I’m right. There’s a difference.”
“I can already see how it’s going to be,” I said, pouting, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I ask only three things, Izzy.”
“What?” I asked, removing the fake pout from my lips and replacing it with a smile.
“You’re only mine, no other men. Secondly, don’t run away. The last thing I ask is that we get tested, you get on the pill, and no more barriers between us. I need to feel all of you.”
“Sounds like a hell of a lot more than three,” I teased. I gnawed on my lips, looking around the room as if I were debating the two things he’d asked. I sighed before I replied, “I can do that.”
“Try not to bust my balls too much, ’kay?”
“Only when you’re being a total asshole. I’ll save it for those special occasions.” I smiled, a giggle escaping my lips. “So when people ask you who you are—and they will, trust me—do I say I’m your submissive?” I asked, and pulled at my lip, waiting for him to answer.
“You’re my girlfriend, Isabella.”
“So I’m not your submissive?” I asked, still fidgeting.
He lay back, covering his face with his hands. “You’re so difficult.”
“You have no idea. I’m just getting started, Jimmy.”
He jumped up, jostling the bed, and started to tickle me. I laughed uncontrollably with tears streaming down my face. Grabbing for his hands, I yelled, “I can’t breathe!” as he pawed at my ribs.
He stopped, his face quickly sobering. “Are you okay?
“Psych!” I screeched, jumping on top of him and straddling him.
“I can see this shit won’t be easy,” he mumbled, pushing his hardness against me and laughing.
“Nothing in life that’s worth having ever is,” I whispered, leaning over and kissing him.