Mick’s apology lashed me with guilt as my vision blurred with tears.
“No,I’msorry! I’m so sorry.” I curled up into a fetal position on my side and squeezed my eyes closed, willing myself with all my might to stop crying.
But the tears kept coming.
How many times had I taken care of myself while Dwayne slept after getting his?
Four years! Four years of my life wasted with a man-child who only cared about himself.
“Please stop cryin', Kayla! I can't handle it. Seriously....”
Mick sounded both distressed and angry.
I couldn't blame him. I was distressed, too—and angry… so, so angry at myself!
“I’m trying to. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”
But I couldn’t stop, no matter how embarrassing it was to be completely losing it in the bed of a sexy, blameless man who had just given me more pleasure than I ever thought possible.
The bed depressed behind me. “C’mon, then….”
The next thing I knew, I was being pulled out of my fetal position and turned into Mick’s strong arms.
He lay with me there on the overly pillowed bed, stroking the back of my head as I sobbed into his bare chest. Until finally, thankfully, I calmed down, and the tears dried up.
He continued to hold me, even after I was done crying. Though he did say, “I tell ya what—this does not make a lad feel great about his make-it-up-to-you performance.”
I shook my head against his chest. “It wasn’t you. I mean, actually, it was you. You made me feel good. Too good. I’ve never…”
I sighed, instinctually wanting to hold some stuff back.
But I’d already ruined this dude’s night with my crying fit.
I owed him the full truth.
I pushed down my embarrassment to tell him, “Dwayne only ever did that for me on my birthday, and even then, he was reluctant. I thought maybe I tasted bad. I actually went to the doctor a few months ago, just to make sure I didn’t have anything going on down there.”
After a brief moment of consideration, Mick let out a growly sound that made his chest rumble. “Yeah, I called it right. Dwayne is a proper wanker.”
“I’m not sure what a wanker is,” I admitted. “But if it means ‘big ol’ jerk,’ then yes, he was one of those—not to mention a liar. I was an idiot for staying with him as long as I did.”
Several moments of silence, then Mick replied in a completely reasonable tone, “Tell ya what. I’ll come to the States and visit some violence upon him. Punch to the nose, kick in the goolies, headbutt. You name it, and I’ll do it to this wanker right good. But just so you know, I’ve been told my headbutts are particularly impressive…. Okay, why are you laughin’, Kayla? I’m dead serious!”
Another soft laugh escaped before I could answer. “You want to take a trip to America just to beat up my ex and probably get arrested right after?”
“I could probably pull it off without gettin’ nicked.” He let out a prideful snort. “I’m good at talkin’ the other guy into hittin’ first. And if he hits me first, it’s self-defense…. Saw that on an old episode of the American version ofLaw & Order.”
Earlier, it had been tears I couldn’t get a handle on, but now I couldn’t control my laughter.
“I’m sorry for crying,” I said when I finally got over my fit of giggles. “But thanks for making me laugh. I needed that.”
“It would probably only make you laugh harder, then, if I told ya that at no point today have I actually tried to make ya laugh. Yeah, yeah, now you’re laughin’ harder. That’s it!”
With a huff, Mick let me go.
The view from the main room of the suite was impressive, but the one in the bedroom was just as dreamy I noted when he rolled over, unblocking my view of the balcony behind him.
The Eiffel Tower’s golden sparkling lights framed his sinewy body as he threw a ridiculous amount of pillows off the bed before padding over to the room’s main light switch.
