She opened her eyes, and other than the cutting down of the whipping post and the conversation with Ian, she couldn’t remember anything else.
Scrap that, she remembered the bottle of whiskey.
Yep, no way she could forget that.
Opening her eyes, she turned her head and froze.
Draven was looking right at her.
“Please tell me you’re awake and not one of those creepy people that sleep with their eyes open?” she asked.
He smiled. “I’m awake. I find it interesting that you’ve woken to me in your bed and yet all you care about is knowing if I’m awake or asleep because open eyes creep you out.”
She shrugged. “Well, seeing as I don’t have to be freaked out anymore, why are we in the same bed?” She rolled over and was surprised to find she didn’t have a hangover, not even a headache. “I’m going to vomit soon, aren’t I?”
“Oh, yes. Your entire guts.”
“You spent a lot of time in the bottom of a whiskey bottle?”
“Not a lot of time but enough to know it’s not fun coming up. It burns.”
“Until that happens, want to tell me why you’re here?” she asked. “In my bed?”
“It’s technically my bed.”
“If you want to get technical, it’s Axel’s.”
“It’s not. I own this house and the land, and everything that is on it.”
“Including your best friend?” she asked.
“I don’t own him. He can come and go as he pleases.”
“The rest of us need permission.”
“To get out of this house, yes.”
She wished she remembered what happened last night. Staring at Draven, she knew they had to have talked.
“Do you still hate me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“It didn’t go well with your dad.”
“Of course not. We’re not the same person, and he seems to think that blaming other people for his mistakes is okay. It’s really not okay.”
Her stomach started to turn, and she placed a hand over her mouth, knowing she didn’t have long.
“Go,” Draven said.
She pushed the blankets off her, and only just made it in time to the toilet as she started to vomit.
Draven was there, holding her hair back as she threw everything that she’d eaten and drank back up. The vomit kept coming, and throughout it, she felt Draven’s hand on her back, one hand in her hair, keeping it out of the way.
“I don’t want to do this,” she said.
“Just keep on being sick. I’m not cleaning vomit up.”
She laughed. “As if I could go anywhere.”
“Once you’ve done this, we’ll go and have some breakfast.”
The thought of breakfast didn’t help her, and she kept on throwing up. Draven stayed with her for the next ten minutes until she finally stopped.
He had a toothbrush ready for her, along with mouthwash. She took them from him gladly, brushing at her teeth.
From her reflection, she saw it had been a bad couple of days. Beneath her eyes were shadows, and she looked exhausted.
With Draven watching her every move she didn’t check out her back.
He turned on the shower, and she stopped as he started to get undressed.
She saw his heavily inked body. It hadn’t been so inked the last time she saw him. There had been more words and drawings added to his flesh.
He removed his pants and boxers, and he stood in the shower. “Come on.”
Every instinct inside her was screaming at her to run.
In her mind, she saw the Draven from the past, and this new man. The deadly one. The one she knew she should fear and at the same time, screaming at her to take care of him.
You’re fucking crazy.
He had people whip you.
She removed her clothes, aware of how naked she was as she stepped into the stall, and ignored it.
Covering her chest, she tilted her head back and looked up at the water. It was warm, and Draven stood behind her.
The space in the shower seemed to get smaller.
She stared at his arms as they reached past her head and grabbed the soap. It wouldn’t take a lot to kill her, to squeeze the very breath from her body and to make her scream in pain.
He’d done so before.
The pain of the whip.
Of his hands.
Of his words.
All of it adding up to where they were right now.
In the shower, completely naked.
“Can I have the soap?” she asked.
He held the soap out for her to take and placed it in her hand.
She took it, running her hands over it, lathering them. She put the block back in the dish and started to run her hands all over her body.
She wondered if he saw her, if he liked how she was washing her body.
She changed a glance behind her and saw him watching her, staring at her hands as she moved them down her neck, over her breasts, and then to her stomach.
His cock stood out, long, thick, and proud.
Rubbing her body, an answering heat filled her with shame. This man shouldn’t evoke any feeling from her body, and yet, he did.