Blyss (The Blyss Trilogy 1)

“Yes?”

I over-exaggerate, waggling my brows at her to let her know I’m playing, and hopefully ease her worries. “I expect a book report on the one you read yesterday when I get back,” I tease with a mischievous grin.

She guffaws and tries to hide her smile as she turns bright red, and I shut the door just in time. With the click of the door, I simultaneously hear the paperback novel bounce against the other side of the door, and I can’t help but chuckle.

I walk briskly down the hall and realize I’m shirtless with no time to change. I’ll have to explain that one to Nick, who’s already in a bad mood since he feels threatened I’m moving in on his woman. Nick’s having a small altercation in room three, and I shake my head at the man. He’s never been good at controlling his temper. Jared and I actually created ‘Code Yellow’ at first as a joke, signifying Nick’s tantrums have gotten out of hand, but soon it became a standard communication term. I get to play mediator now, before any shit hits the fan. I roll my eyes, wondering what set Nick off this time.

Before I round the corner to room three, I think of Julianna. By this afternoon, those drugs will be fully-laced through her system. I fear if things get too heated I won’t be able to resist her. It’s going to be bad enough watching her take her pleasure, writhing in ecstasy. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, not even the one significant girl from my past, which was a long fucking time ago. For the first time in this career of mine, I’m concerned for myself in more ways than one, and I seriously need to reevaluate my motives from here on out.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

~Jules~

After Travis left me, I had to shake off the sexual tension he left behind in his wake. Highly-frustrated, I quickly change into my workout clothes and begin distracting myself by exercising. Zumba blares from the TV screen and a half-hour later, I’m drenched in sweat. Hopefully I’ve been able to sweat some of these drugs out of my system.

The more I feel those sexual urges surfacing, the harder I work out, until I find myself collapsing on the floor. I groan. It’s going to be a long day. I peel myself from the floor and make my way to the shower for the second time this morning. By the time I’ve eaten lunch and brushed my teeth, I’ve found myself going crazy in the head again. My body is fighting my brain for sexual dominance, and I wonder who’s going to be king of the hill today—my mind or my body.

I plop my body down on the sofa, pick up a book, and I let out a sigh. I’ve tried to read this book all morning long, but it seems like all I’m doing is reading the same paragraph ten times over, and I still can’t comprehend a damn word. Funny how I could focus on the romance novel just fine. I shake my head at the thought; I’m not going to be opening another can of worms by getting my body all hot and bothered even more than it already is.

Glancing at the clock on the wall in the kitchen, I check the time, and it’s reading almost noon. Shit. I wonder if I have enough time to clamber into a hot, steamy tub in another attempt to perspire the Blyss out of my pores, averting my mind with pain by making the water scorching hot. I’ve never been into self-harm, but I can almost understand why people do it. Even though it’s short-lived, it deters any mental turmoil for the moment by forcing your mind to think of something else. Blyss is no joke; I’m fighting it at every turn, and since they’ve doubled my dose, it’s becoming too much for my mind to handle.

I get up from the sofa with the intention of drawing the hot bath, only to see Travis walking through the door at the same time. Double shit. I go weak at the knees at the sight of him. He looks serious right now; gone is his playfulness from earlier. His eyes are fixed on me, and I swallow hard; his mood is replaced by something more…carnal. Damn, he’s hot. Pure dominance exudes from his every pore, making my heart speed up. He says nothing as he steps into the room, slowly sauntering toward me, stalking his prey. My brain tells my feet to run the other way, but my legs refuse to move. He stops only a few feet from me, and God help me, I want him. I want him to slam me down on the sofa, kiss me, and make me his.