Hours pass.
There is literally nothing for me to do.
Yes, there is a TV in the room, but I can’t binge-watch Netflix right now. The screen makes my head throb.
It hurts to read.
It hurts to watch.
And not to be rude, but I really don’t like the nurse.
Okay, fine . . .
It’s not the nurse. She seems kind.
I just want Trent.
As if summoned by my desire, the door opens to the bedroom, and he walks inside.
My eyes go wide.
Holy wow.
He’s handsome in a white thermal long-sleeve shirt and ripped jeans.
Jeez, this outfit should be illegal. He just looks so damn sexy.
He smiles broadly at me as he walks in, as if he knows he’s hot, and my reaction to him is something he’s used to.
The way he looks at me makes me feel hot, and all I want is for him to cross the space and resume what he started earlier.
“How’re you doing?”
I try to answer. Try to play it off as if I haven’t been sitting in a bed all by myself for the past four hours, counting down the minutes until he returned.
“You know.” I shrug. “Same old, same old.”
“Keeping busy, I see?” he jokes.
A little laugh follows, and again, I melt.
I like this playful side of him.
It’s sweet when he’s funny.
Yeah, he’s sexy, cocky, arrogant, and condescending, but I don’t even care. All I want is to kiss him. I have been dreaming about it every day since the last time he placed his mouth on mine, and now I can’t stop staring at his lips.
I shake my head and answer him, “You’ve missed quite the morning. Some of the best clubs in New York couldn’t hold a candle to all the fun I’ve been having.”
“Go on . . .”
“Well, I’ll tell you what I haven’t been doing . . .” I trail off, dipping my voice conspiratorially, “Believe it or not, and I know this might come as a ginormous shock, but I have not gone dancing.”
“No?” Feigned shock echoes in his voice.
“No.” I nod to my leg. “Apparently, I have a bum foot.”
“Then what did you do?” He sits on the bed, a safe distance from me.
“I also didn’t watch TV.”
“No binging Netflix?” he teases.
I lift my brow. “I also didn’t read Carl Jung.”
“Well, aren’t you the party animal?”
“I am. I stared at the paint,” I deadpan.
“Interesting.”
“I found it fascinating.” I lift my index finger. “Were you aware that you have a mark in the top left corner by the far wall?”
He turns to look at where I am pointing. “Nope.”
“If I could stand, I would show you.”
His playful expression turns serious. I press on, letting my tone turn teasing so he understands my game.
“I would like you to help me with the prison break because that’s what this is, by the way. A prison.”
His eyes light up with understanding, and the humor returns. “And I’m the mean prison warden?”
“If you break me out of here and do something fun with me, then you won’t be,” I tell him, my voice taunting him, hoping he rises to the challenge.
It occurs to me that we’ve built up a kinky fantasy. Roleplay. My cheeks flush, and his eyes narrow on the color.
“I don’t really think there’s very much you can do,” he murmurs, hungry eyes fixed on my lips.
I lick them. “Don’t sell yourself short. I bet you can imagine something . . .”
His eyes twinkle. “I can definitely come up with something.”
My cheeks warm again at his innuendo. My heart picks up its pace. “Not that something . . .”
“What about a picnic?” he suddenly offers.
“I highly doubt I’m up for walking in the park.”
“Why don’t you let me deal with that?”
“I am certainly not going to allow you to carry me through a park!” I give him a pointed look.
“Why do you keep saying park?”
“Where else would we do this?” My eyes roll.
“Again, let me handle this.” He stands, straightening from the bed. “I’m going to send your nurse in. You’re going to take a shower, and then you’re going to rest. Once you’re ready, I’ll come and get you.”
Great.
I love being showered by a stranger.
I’d rather be showered by you.
I shake my head, forcing the thought from it. “This sounds so much fun.” Sarcasm drips off the word fun.
“You have no idea what I can plan.” He heads toward the door, stopping just short of it to stare at me.
“I’m a little scared. Not going to lie.” As these words come out, I realize there’s truth in them.
I am trying to be playful, but a part of me is scared.
He did say someone’s after me.
That they will try to use me to get back at him. Does that mean they can find me? What if, next time, they succeed?
Trent must see the change in my eyes because he crosses the space to sit next to me on the bed, in the same spot he was earlier today.