8
Isa
Light trickled in at the edges of my vision. As I pried my eyes open and stared at the space in front of me, the luxurious champagne and gold decor staring back at me was most certainly not the purple room that had looked the same since I'd been ten.
Weight rested over my waist, and the warmth of a naked chest pressed against my spine.
I turned under the arm, rolling to my back and staring up at Rafe's handsome face in shock. In sleep, his expression was oddly peaceful. Like the lines of his face that marked him as a decadent and dangerous sin smoothed away and turned him into a man.
His chest rose and fell with the deep breaths that only sleep could bring, and he groaned as he pressed closer to me. The steel of his erection touched my thigh, making me acutely aware of the distinct soreness between my legs after the night before.
I bit my lip, slipping out of the bed and adjusting the covers, hoping he wouldn't notice me missing. It was early, and while I would have loved to sneak out before he woke up, I needed to shower if I had to make my way across Ibiza Town to the boutique hotel that would give me respite while I grieved the loss of something I’d never really had.
A toothbrush sat on the counter, still in its original packaging. I hadn't noticed it the night before in my panic to get out of the room, but the presence seemed to mock me. Rafe's toothbrush stood in the cup, already opened from its package, having been used. The dirty feeling I'd had while I thought about leaving as soon as he was done with me came rushing back, shoved to the surface with the reality that he'd planned to have company staying the night.
Letting me stay meant nothing. It didn't mean he'd thought our night together was special, as it seemed to me. He just seemed to have a propensity for letting a woman stay the night.
I stared into the mirror, studying my face and wondering if I felt any different aside from the ache inside me. I still felt like me, despite somehow feeling like my world had shifted on its axis. A man had never affected me before, and I’d never let myself have a man simply because I wanted him.
Glancing back down at the toothbrush, I tore the package open with angry movements and squirted toothpaste on like the personal offense it was. I brushed thoroughly, getting rid of the aftertaste the wine had left me with, and rinsed it before depositing it back inside the mangled package.
He could reuse it for his next one-night stand for all I cared.
Turning the shower on, I stepped under the water before it had time to get hot. The cold spray jarred me out of my pettiness, making me instantly feel guilty for acting like a scorned lover. I had no claim to him.
He'd told me no lies. Never made me any promises beyond our night together.
I knew logically I should look at the night as a blessing. I'd had a pleasant experience for my first time, and would have a great story to tell if I ever reached a point where I wanted to talk about my sex life. Instead, all I could think about was him doing the same thing that night with a new woman.
I lathered shampoo into my hair and glared at the conditioner bottle that sat on the shelf as the rainfall shower head poured down on me. I ignored the sound of the bathroom door opening, not even daring to loose the sigh that wanted to escape. Sneaking out before he woke up would have been too good to be true.
The shower door slid open as I rinsed, making me turn incredulous eyes back at him as he stepped into the shower with me. I felt the moment he came under the spray; the water bouncing off his body and dripping onto my back from a different angle before he even touched me. When his fingers combed through my hair, helping to rinse the shampoo out of the ends, I tugged out of his grip and turned to look at him with a scowl. "I'll be out of your way as soon as I'm done," I snapped.
He tilted his head in confusion, and I sighed to rid myself of my frustration when he ignored the bite to my words in favor of working the offending conditioner through my hair. "What has my princesa in a temper this morning?" he asked, his words feeling like a violation in themselves. He didn't know me well enough to talk to me about my moods.
"Nothing," I said, reaching over to grab the bottle of body wash.
He took it from my hands, setting it back on the shelf as he turned me around to face him. Pushing me against the shower wall, he cupped the side of my neck and used his thumb to press my chin up until I met his eyes. "Tell me."
I relented with a swallow, heaving out a breath. "It's nothing. I'm being stupid," I admitted.
"Isa, tell me so I can fix it," he said more firmly.
My eyes went to the toothbrush on the counter, finally deciding that it would be foolish to feel so embarrassed about being honest with him. Soon I'd walk out of his life and never see him again, so it shouldn't matter if I left on good terms or not. "I never wanted to feel like I was just one in a revolving door of women, you know? I shouldn't have done this. It isn't me, but that's not your fault."
He followed my gaze, turning his body. I felt the moment he saw the toothbrush, the way his body relaxed as he realized what might have upset me. "Ah. The hotel supplies many items, particularly in the penthouse suite. There are two toothbrushes in each of the other two bedrooms in the suite as well, I'm sure."
"You didn't ask for them?" I asked stupidly, my brain furiously trying to connect the dots. It wasn't necessarily a confession that what we'd had was unique, but I couldn't expect that from a man I didn't know.
"No," he laughed, running his thumb over my cheek. "But I must admit, I'm surprised by how much your jealousy appeals to me. Does it drive you mad to think of another woman in your place?" he asked, reaching for the body wash and squirting some into a loofa while I scowled up at him. I suddenly felt like the brunt of a joke and found I didn't much like it. "Because I think I would murder a man for looking at you too long," he said as he leaned in and touched his lips to mine gently while he stared at me and lathered the loofa with bubbles.
The exaggeration coated my skin, feeling like an odd compliment. Iwantedhim to be jealous. I wanted him to feel territorial over me, because it meant that I was more than just a single night.
Even if it couldn't actually last, it would give me some peace to know that maybe he'd think about me after I was gone.
He turned me away from him, touching the soapy loofa to my shoulder and gliding it down my arm until every inch was covered in suds. Switching hands, he did it with the other arm, sliding it around to the front of my body.
My nipples pebbled beneath the touch as the abrasive surface scraped them, and he covered my torso in bubbles as he pressed his body to mine. His length curved along my spine, cementing his desire for me as he moved the loofa lower and nudged my feet apart slightly so he could clean me.