Breaking Bad (27 page)

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Authors: Karin Tabke

Tags: #Contemporary Romance;Romance

BOOK: Breaking Bad
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Chapter Seven

 

 

 

 

“R
oom service.”

Katy watched him walk past her to the door and even in her drunken state found it hard to drag her eyes off him. He moved like a big panther. Lethal grace. She sighed and closed her eyes. A mistake; the room spun. She opened her eyes, struggling to sit up. The minute the waiter uncovered the food and the aroma hit her nostrils, she bolted for what she sure hoped was the bathroom.

Skidding to a halt on her knees, she heaved just before she got to the toilet. It went everywhere, including all over her, but she didn’t care. She pulled herself up and hugged the porcelain goddess, finding the cool smoothness of the commode soothing to her sweaty warm skin.

Shielded by her wild mass of hair, she puked again and again, eyes closed, feeling as if she were at death’s door. Her hair magically lifted from around her and a cool wet cloth wrapped around the back of her neck.

“Go away,” she muttered. “I—” She fought for control. “Don’t—” Her stomach convulsed as it tried to eject what was left in it. “Want—you—to see—” She lost the fight and vomited again. Gasping for breath, she wiped her mouth on the rim of the toilet. “Like this …” God, she felt horrible.

She closed her eyes, praying for a quick death. “Please,” she begged. “Just go away.”

When she heard the door close, she let out a sigh of relief. Until the stench of her puke assaulted her nostrils, causing her stomach to roil again. She turned her throbbing head toward the big walk-in shower. With a military crawl she dragged herself to the open stall, and somehow managed to reach the taps in the corner and turn the water on. Under the hot spray, she leaned back against the marble tile, pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and cried.

And cried.

Two strong arms pulled her into a warm, wet embrace, and she cried harder. When a large hand pressed her head to his chest and he murmured soft comforting words to her, she cried so hard her chest burned.

She didn’t care when she wiped her nose across his soaked linen shirt. She didn’t care when she found herself clinging to him as if he were her only lifeline in her ocean of angst. She didn’t care that she was making a colossal fool out of herself. She just wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die.

He stroked her drenched hair. “Don’t cry for him, Kat, he’s not worth it.”

She cried harder. He didn’t understand. “You don’t understand,” she wailed. “I—I trusted him with—with my feelings and my body!” She choked back tears, her throat raw from the booze, puking, and crying. “He dared me to—to—you know, and I was afraid if I didn’t, he would leave me, but when I did, he lost respect for me anyway, and the being married thing was a deal breaker, but even if he wasn’t married he would have dumped me.” She looked up through blurry eyes into his calm ones. His long black lashes were spiked from the water, and she pulled away. “You’re dressed!”

He cracked a smile. “So are you.”

“But I threw up all over myself.”

“And you wiped your snotty nose on my shirt. And hand.”

She hiccoughed. “Sorry.”

“I have a dozen more.”

He notched her chin up to look him in the eye. “That guy was an asshole. He was always going to leave you because he’s married.”

She shook her head as the warm sting of tears filled her eyes. “No, he couldn’t handle the fact that I went there with you. That I liked it better with you than with him.” She rubbed her forehead against his hard chest. “I really liked having sex with you, and it’s his fault I had two orgasms with you and I’ve never done that with him.” She sucked back a sob, and looked up at Simon through her tears and the shower water that he must have adjusted because it wasn’t nearly as strong as when she turned it on. “No, that isn’t the whole story. I could have declined his dare. I didn’t. So it was my choice. He didn’t force me. He didn’t have to, because if it had been anyone but you, I wouldn’t have done it.”

She nodded to herself. “It’s true, but—if Evan hadn’t asked, I wouldn’t have. I mean though, we never talked about it, I thought we were in a monogamous relationship. Except I was the only one being monogamous! He just used me! And I let him,” she wailed.

“Why are you taking the blame for his dishonesty?”

“I’m——” She grabbed his collar with two hands and whispered, “Simon, I think I’m a secret slut.”

His lips tightened as if he were trying not to smile. She didn’t see what was so funny.

“Don’t laugh at me. I’m being honest here. Telling you my deepest darkest secrets!”

“I’m not laughing at you, Kat. I’m enjoying your candor.”

“Well, I enjoyed being with you last night.
A lot
. I’ve never had one orgasm like that much less two! Ev-
er.
And there are things I—crave, Simon. Things I shouldn’t. Things I never told Evan or any man. Things I shouldn’t want to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like—things …” Heat flushed her cheeks.

“Like golden showers?”

“No!”

“Like with animals?”

“God, no!”

“Like with girls?”

“Ha, wouldn’t you like to watch that?”

“I might once or twice.”

“Pig.”

“I’ve been called worse.” He nudged her. “Like what things?”

“Like, I think I like to be dominated,” she blurt out.
God did she really just say that?
Blame it on the tequila!

He shrugged. “So?” Then his eyes narrowed. “Are you into pain?”

“No, not like whips and chains pain, but—”

He nipped at her cheek, and then licked his tongue across it, soothing the sting. “That kind of pain?”

Katy’s body shivered with warmth. “Y-es.”

“When you say dominated, do you mean like master slave kind of stuff?”

“No, I just—like to be told.”

“What did you like most about last night?”

She shivered and dropped her gaze to his lap and let the tequila tell the truth on her behalf. “That it was you. That Evan was in control, and that made it okay for me to do what I secretly wanted to do.”

“Which was?”

“Enjoy you.”

“What if I had said no?”

“Then that would have been the end of it.”

He nudged her chin up to look at him. “Why did you pick me?”

“Because after we bumped into each other, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I’m kind of a big deal.”

She slapped at his arm. “Why
did
you say yes?”

“Because after we bumped into each other, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

She grinned. “Yeah, I’m kind of a big deal, too.”

His smile widened. “You are. I had to pull rank on those dogs down there to keep them off your scent.”

“Yeah? What are you, a sergeant?”

“Captain.”

“Are captains allowed to—do what you did?”

He traced a fingertip along her bottom lip. “Captains can do whatever the hell they want.”

“Oh.”

He plucked her lip and said, “I’d lay a big sloppy one on you, but you need to brush your teeth.”

“Ugh!” She pushed out of his arms and tried to stand. As she swayed backward he reached up and caught her. Standing with her, he handed her a bar of soap.

“Take a hot shower, you’ll feel better, there’s a robe in the closet.”

He set out a toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink before he left her to her privacy.

When she emerged some time later she was shaky on her feet but she felt miles better than she did when she dragged herself into the shower.

Chapter Eight

 

 

 

 

S
imon was barefoot and dry, except for his damp hair, and half-dressed in a pair of low slung jeans that lovingly hugged his hips and thighs. He was just pulling down a black T-shirt when she caught a glimpse of his washboard abs. She sighed. Evan looked good, but he’d never looked like that. She remembered the feel of Simon’s smooth skin and hard muscles against her. Her body warmed as it remembered other parts of him touching her more intimately.

“I, ah, need to go to my room,” she stammered. His room was much too small for the two of them and the way she was feeling.

He pointed to the trays of covered food. “Try to eat something first. And hydrate. There’s plenty of bottled water.”

Her empty stomach gurgled, but she was too tired to do anything about it. She yawned, too exhausted to do anything but sleep. “Thank you, but I’m too tired to eat. I’m just going to sit down for a minute, then go.” Gratefully she sunk into the massive recliner between the bed and dining table.

He nodded and walked past her to his laptop on the desk and booted it up. She watched, with swollen, burning eyes, the way his muscles played along his back, and the way his bicep flexed when he clicked the mouse. His fingers were long and thick, and—she squirmed in her chair—talented.

Her cheeks flamed with heat and she was suddenly overwhelmed by what she had done the night before. How she’d let go completely with this man she didn’t know. How was it that she’d never been so uninhibited with Evan until last night?

“Stop thinking about how much you want to jump my bones,” he said without turning around.

She gasped. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she defended

He turned and speared her with those blazing green eyes. “Your cheeks are as red as your pretty little ass was last night.”

“Don’t say that,” she whispered, forcing herself not to squirm in her chair.

He turned back around and hit the keyboard, but asked, “Why can’t I talk about last night?”

“Because, I—feel foolish.”

He turned on her then and she could see he wanted to get up and come near her but he instinctively knew she would back away. And she would. She didn’t trust him. Not to not hurt her, but herself with him. He would use her, she would let him, and then he’d be gone.

“Why? Didn’t you enjoy it?”

Her cheeks flamed again. “You know I did.”

“We were consenting adults. No harm, no foul.”

“You saw me at my most …” she struggled for words. Sex infused? Stupid? Exposed? The woman last night was not the woman she was. She wasn’t like that. She was a poised, controlled, educated scientist who spent more time looking through a microscope and monitoring lab rats than interacting with humans.

“Vulnerable?” he offered, hitting the nail on the head.

She swallowed hard and nodded.

He turned to his computer and said, “If you were my girl, Kat, I would never have put you in that situation.” He turned back to her flashing her a fierce possessive look.
“Ever
.

“I believe you, but why did you really come upstairs with Evan and me?”

His lips twitched before settling in a firm line. “I guess I wanted to see what kind of guy it took to snag a girl like you.”

She dropped her gaze to her hands. “Not much of one, apparently.”

“You were lied to.”

“But I agreed to the dare! He didn’t force me.”

“I’m glad you did. That was the best sex I’ve had in a long time, maybe ever.”

“Me too,” she admitted before looking up at him. “I wish you had stayed.”

“You told me to go.”

“I’m glad you came back.”

He smiled. “Me, too.”

The response unnerved her because she wanted to believe that he was a good guy, but she had a lousy track record when it came to men. “I’ll never trust another man.”

“Because of one selfish bastard?”

Evan wasn’t the first man to betray her. Her first love, her father, had gone to the store for a gallon of milk when she was five years old and didn’t return until she was fourteen. He’d brought a new wife and two daughters he doted on with him. Her high-school sweetheart left her for a full ride to Columbia and returned after his first spring break with his fiancé.
After
he told her he wasn’t the marrying type. Then there was James in medical school, who’d told her she was frigid. She’d believed him because, in her limited experience, she’d never had an orgasm. Then along came Evan. After months of his relentless pursuit, and his promise he wasn’t like other men, she relented and they became lovers. But like his predecessors, he became frustrated when she could not orgasm. Even so, Evan had been patient with her and generous in bed. And then, her heart skipped a beat—there was Simon. She’d had her first orgasm ever with him last night.

“I don’t do relationships very well.”

“Maybe you’ve just picked the wrong guys.”

Her lids had grown heavier as the exhaustion took over. “Maybe,” she said and thought perhaps he was right. Every man in her life that she’d had a relationship with that included sex blamed her lack of orgasm on her frigidity. But the thaw had cometh with Simon. He barely had to touch her and she was flying. Snuggling into the chair, she smiled and closed her eyes. She bet a psychiatrist would have a field day with that.

 

 

When her eyes fluttered open, Katy was confused and disoriented. Early morning sunlight peeked through the semi-drawn drapes. She glanced at the clock. Six-thirty A.M. and her flight didn’t leave until noon. The muffled sound of running water came from the bathroom. Her head pounded, her mouth was dry and she was famished.

“Oh my God!” She sat up and memories of the night before immediately came flooding back. She was in Simon’s room! She was still wrapped in the robe from last night but was in the bed, under the covers. She looked at the pillows beside her and they were still fresh and plump. Her eyes traveled across the room to the large recliner with a rumpled blanket and mashed pillow sitting on it. He’d slept in a chair? As big as he was? He must be sore as hell!

She noticed her yoga pants, panties, bra, tennis shoes, and a sweatshirt neatly folded on the nightstand beside her. She ran her fingers through her hair and winced at the knots and the chunks of dried vomit she’d missed.
Gross.
She slid from the bed, grabbed a bottle of water, and chugged it. She opened the curtains and immediately spied two sets of handcuffs on the desktop next to an empty leather shoulder holster and Simon’s laptop.

Despite everything she wanted to erase from her mind, the image of her cuffed to the headboard as Simon made love to her shimmered through her. Her nipples pebbled and she wondered if he would think she was kinky. She picked them up and slid her fingertips along the cold metal. Oh the things he would do to her and she’d have no choice but to let him. And she’d want it all and more.

“Have you ever been restrained?”

She cried out and turned around, guiltily putting the cuffs behind her back. “That’s not what I was thinking!”

She gulped as she beheld the sight before her. He only had a towel wrapped around his narrow waist. His chest was a smooth plane of contoured muscle with several intricate tattoos she’d love to trace with her fingertips. And his skin was glistening, with drops of water running lazily from his damp hair. Her gaze dropped as it followed one drop sluicing down his belly to his happy trail.
Oh to be that drop of water.
She blinked. Oh my, he was aroused. He didn’t make a move toward her. Her gaze rose back to his and she felt like a doe in the crosshairs.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Kat. I would never hurt you.” He grinned. “I might spank you if you deserved it, and you would like that, wouldn’t you? But never hurt you.”

“I’m not into bondage.”

“What about it don’t you like?”

“The trust part.”

“The trust part? As in hurting you?”

“The physical hurting, the emotional blackmailing that can come afterward …”

“I would never intentionally hurt a woman and never resort to emotional or physical blackmail to keep her under my thumb. Only a coward would resort to that kind of bullshit.” He reached out a hand to her. “Trust me.”

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