ILSA
The bed was cold. I had fallen asleep warm and comfortable, and now the space next to me had a chill to it as though no one had been there all night.
Was it a dream? Being with Ray?
Rolling over, I stared at the empty expanse of the bed next to me. I had given in to the temptation of her last night, and I’m not sure what I expected to happen today. But at the very least, I thought I’d wake up to find her next to me, still naked, perhaps ready to go again. The bed was empty, and it bothered me when it should’ve been something I rejoiced in. Although our coupling was brief, I had forgotten my injury at that time, not even giving it a second thought. Ray had made me feel desired and fueled my need for more.
And she wasn’t even human.
But now she was gone from my bed, and I didn’t know what to think.
Chances are, she was in the apartment somewhere. It didn’t make sense for her to leave, but still, the symbolism of her not being next to me spoke worlds.
Honestly, what the hell did I expect? It was just another part of her game, life being one big playground to her.
Because she’s a fucking demon, I needed to keep reminding myself of that.
It doesn’t matter that she looks and talks and feels like a human because, underneath her skin, she isn’t. We fucked, and that’s all there was to it, nothing beyond physical pleasure and release, and once we figured out who Ray had pissed off, then she could go on her way, and I’d never have to see her again.
Why was it bothering me?
I couldn’t shake the sense she wasn’t a bad person, and while her views and motivations were skewed, she wasn’t intentionally going around harming innocent people. It was a whole world of gray, and in a place where simple black and white barely exists anymore, I shouldn’t be surprised.
But there were complications, and there was… this.
Whatever this was.
Rolling out of bed, I snatched a spare towel from the walk-in closet and wrapped it around my body. I don’t know where my tank top had gone, and I certainly wasn’t going to stroll out there naked.
She might attack me.
Fuck or fight.
My skin tingled at the thought of tempting the demon out to play again.
Fuck.
“Morning!” Ray called cheerily from the kitchen as I nipped past.
“Morning,” I muttered, ducking into the bathroom and closing the door behind me, the lock sliding into place with a click.
Why was I embarrassed and acting like a teenager who had been caught making out in the back seat of a car?
Dropping the towel to the floor, I studied my wounds in the mirror. They weren’t great, but they would heal, and I could deal with the discomfort in the meantime. Stepping into the hot shower, I could only hope the water would wash away the feeling of her hands on my body.
But that was simply another lie I told myself.
When I stepped into the living room, rubbing my hair dry with a towel, I immediately realized where my tank top had gone because Ray was wearing it. However, she was bustier than I, and the fabric stretched over her chest, the straps straining against her shoulders. I wished I didn’t notice, but it was hard not to.
I wished I didn’t want to take it off her and not so I could have it back.
“Sleep well?” She grinned, cradling a mug between her hands containing what I deduced was coffee from the strong aroma.
“You going to give me a cup of my own coffee?” I asked, pointing.