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He wrapped it around me after wiping me dry, set me on the bed, and tossed the little packet to my side before disappearing out the door and into the hall, completely naked. Good thing Trix couldn’t be heard pattering around out there. Seconds later, he was back, fresh panties for me in hand.
My eyes stalled on his abs, on the smearing of blood trailing down his V to the mass between his legs. He didn’t cringe like I imagined most men would. His face remained beautiful and free of ugly expressions as he went to get a towel for himself.
He wiped his stomach and returned to me, bending between my legs as my arms propped me up on the edge of his giant bed. My breathing stilled as he pulled the panties up my legs, the pad already in place.
Unsure what to do as he reached my thighs, he tipped me back, lifting my legs like he was changing a baby’s diaper, then he destroyed that image by giving me a playful slap to the ass. I assumed it was a soft one, judging by the small noise that vibrated from it.
My lips lifted into a smile, but it quickly fell flat.
Water filled my eyes, pain and guilt drowning me. “Were they hers? The clothes?”
His feet took him away from me, but only to retrieve his keyboard, which had fallen to the floor when he grabbed my towel.
He typed a message, his fingers moving quickly, as always.
“They aren’t hers. Never were. I got them for you when I removed you from the cell.”
He climbed onto the bed, pulling me back with him, and he yanked the towel from my body and tucked it under his arm, settling me beneath the satin sheets.
Just as I was getting comfortable with a soft pillow supporting my pounding head, another stomach twinge caught me off guard. It hurt. My entire insides were hurt and sore for multiple reasons.
I reached for Mercer, wanting something to squeeze, wanting someone to just hold me for the whole night, but he disappeared, jumping from the bed. I heard his footsteps rush down the stairs as another twinge caught me by surprise.
That ugly expression that wasn’t on Mercer’s face was on mine as I lay scowling at the door in agony.
I was in the process of calling him all the weird bastards under the sun, hoping that weird bastard had security cameras in this room so he could hear, which I didn’t doubt when I heard his footsteps again.
He walked into the bedroom, feet padded the soft carpet, his arms full of goodies, and interrupted my verbally abusive sneers toward him. His cocked eyebrow and smirk told me he’d heard enough, then he laid out everything on the bed.
His body reached for mine, and I melted into him, enjoying the feel of his fingers roaming on me. Enjoying it a little too much, I moaned. His appreciation fell flat, each muscle tensing below me.
He distracted himself from whatever it was he felt for me by kicking his towel from the bed. His penis neared my hand on his lower abdomen as he stretched over, towing the first of the three items he brought toward us—a bottle of flavored water for us to share. I took the first drink—a giant swig that was kind of undignified.
The second item was one I struggled with, not knowing what it was. It looked something like a hippopotamus, but it was warm and cozy, with a belly full of beans. He tucked the stuffed animal between us, and the heat soothed my stomach.
The third gift he brought was hidden inside a red bag. A red bag I couldn’t wait to open. My gaze tipped up with eagerness to witness long fingers dipping inside and pulling out chocolates, the smell bringing another sense of comfort. His eyes stayed on my mouth as he popped it inside.
Two fingers on my jaw encouraged me to chew, and a burst of salty sweetness exploded on my tongue. It was such a unique moment for us...one where he chose to be with me...for me, not for his own twisted pleasure...not for Chandelle.
For me...and what I needed.
And I couldn’t keep the appreciation from my lingering gaze. I had so much to say but not the courage to voice any of it. The tenderness that would probably be long forgotten tomorrow kept me quiet.
And so did the confusion over what we were and could ever be.
He was the man who kidnapped me. Who locked me in a concrete cell. And now, he was taking care of me while I suffered the worst period cramps. He held me, snuggled in his bed, with a heated beanie between us, while he fed me salted caramel chocolates.
Any feelings of anger toward him dissipated, and complete affection for him came flooding back, wiggling through every crevice inside me, taking away the pain of today.
Taking away the ache in my chest that only he could heal...and not because he caused it, but because my heart truly belonged to him.
Chapter 23
Mercer
Music played quietly, the wind outside interrupting all the best parts of the song playing.
The weather had been placid earlier today, but the pretty pink-stained clouds had long since bled out from the sky, intimidated by violent indigo and black, brought in, ready for a rough night here in upstate Massachusetts.
