The sound of the shower turning on has me tilting my head towards the sound for the briefest of seconds.
No.
As I make my way out of the bedroom and down the hallway and the stairs towards my open plan living area, I can’t help but remind myself that I haven’tactuallyhad anything to drink…at all.
It’s just one night, that’s it,I tell myself once more.
Ibolt upright in bed, not from a nightmare, but more so from the fact I forgot where I was for a moment. Jack’s bed was so comfortable I practically fell straight to sleep the moment I crawled beneath the Egyptian cotton sheets, and when I cocooned myself in the cozy black quilt, I passed out.
Everything about his bed was comfortable, and warm. Not to mention the fact that the remnants of his bodywash were weaved within the very fabric. The scent warm and inviting. A mixture of spicy notes like ginger and cinnamon, with the comforting and alluring undertone of vanilla as I pressed my nose against the duvet and inhaled deeply.
My body hadn’t had a relaxing sleep like this in so long I’d forgotten what it felt like to sleep like the dead. I reach my arm out from the Swiss roll I’ve turned myself into, and the cold morning air chills my skin as I grab my phone from the black bedside table and check the time.
“Shit!” I huff, realising the time on the phone and jumping out of bed wearing nothing but my underwear. All the warmth is sucked from my body instantly, and I dance on the soles of my feet due to how bitter the wood feels against my bare skin.
I can’t believe I slept in so late—it’s almost ten, that never happens.Damn you, comfortable bed. I scold the inanimate object as I rifle through my luggage and realise… none of the pajamas I have are wearable in this house, especially with Jack stalking the halls. So, I slowly pad over to his chest of drawers and begin rummaging through them. The first few I open and close quickly as they’re filled with his socks and underwear, and I don’t need any of those.
“How many drawers does this guy… bingo!” I squat down after pulling open the bottom drawer, finding it full of different coloured sweats and T-shirts. I’m sure he won’t mind me wearing this as opposed to the other option available.
I yank out a pair of dark grey sweats and a black T-shirt, not caring if they match, and shuck them on. “Fuck it.” I shrug, opening the top drawer and stealing a pair of his crisp white socks from the drawer too, putting those on my feet before righting myself and walking into the bathroom.
Why this house is so cold when it most likely has the best central heating you can buy is beyond me, but I won’t be here long enough to care. I just need to brush my teeth, grab some coffee and some form of breakfast, and I’ll be on my way quicker than he would bother to notice.
Tugging the scrunchie from my wrist, I begin gathering my long copper hair in both hands and securing it on top of my head in the form of a messy bun, pulling a few strands out to frame my face so I don’t look as though I’ve just rolled out of bed. After brushing my teeth, I perform my simple yet affective skincare routine—that was the one and only gift my mother ever gave me, the importance of using good products on your face.
I tidy the bathroom, place the used towels in the laundry basket, and make my way back into the bedroom to make the bed. Just because he let me stay the night, doesn’t mean I need to leave his room in a complete mess. I may be twenty-five but I’m not a child, or a barn animal for that matter.
Everything in this room is styled to perfection, from the innovative design of the square California King bed that sits directly in the centre of the back wall with two oddly-shaped bedside tables on either side, to the melancholy shade of the dark grey walls, floor, and curtains to match the lack of colour.
Once the room is tidied and I’ve packed everything away, I leave a fresh set of clothes out, my white sneakers, and my makeup bag folded neatly on the corner of the mattress before I leave the room and quietly close the door behind me.
Maybe Jack is a light sleeper, maybe he’s awake, I’m not sure, I just don’t want to be too loud when walking around his house. I descend the stairs and make my way towards the kitchen, which I hope hasn’t been moved since the last time I was here.
The sound of Jack’s deep voice echoes out into the foyer and thankfully, when I walk towards the large archway to the right of me, the gigantic marble kitchen island comes into view, but as I walk through the threshold in search of some coffee… I immediately stop in my tracks.
Holy Christ on a Christmas cracker.
Jack stands in the middle of the kitchen, topless with a black towel secured tightly around his waist, his back facing me. Fresh water beads from the tops of his shoulders and over the thick mass of muscles on his back. I follow as many droplets as I can until they eventually disappear into the fabric of his bath towel.
“I understand that, Nathan… Yes… well you’re going to have to deal with it. I can’t get there right away, or did you miss the fucking weather report?!” he barks down the phone, his tone agitated, and it’s clear he’s losing patience with whoever Nathan is.
My eyes glide embarrassingly over each individual divot of his amazing physique, taking an unnatural amount of time to check out my stepdad, when really, I should be minding my own business and going back upstairs to leave. But the second my eyes stop at the globes of his powerful, yet muscular ass… I’m done for.
Such a great ass,I think to myself, and as the thought passes through my mind it’s like he hears it too… and not even a second passes before Jack turns to face me. Which means I end up looking straight at the imprint of his dick underneath the towel.
After a few seconds, I collect myself and snap my head up to meet his harsh stare, and something coasts over his features, the right side of his mouth curling slightly because he caught me in all my glory… gawking.
Holding his index finger up in a ‘one moment’ type action, Jack continues with his conversation, his eyes never leaving mine. “What exactly do I pay you for, Nathan? That’s right… to do your fucking job in my absence.” Jack’s eyes flight over me from head to toe as he speaks. “So over the next few days I expect it to be done with the highest level of efficiency. Or, simply enough, find yourself another job.”
While he berates the person on the other end of the line my eyes completely betray me, and even though I try my absolute hardest not to look at his naked top half, I can’t stop myself.
My eyes flick to the old wound on his neck and I follow the pink, slightly raised, keloid scar over his collarbone and just past his pectoral muscle. Other small scars and tissue damage fan out from there and scatter across his left ribcage. But before I can stare any longer, Jack begins walking towards me and I naturally back up, angling myself to the side and out of his way as he reaches for the cupboard door above the sink.
“See that it does,” he snaps at the person on the other end of the line before ending the call and placing his phone down on the counter. He pulls two white coffee mugs from the shelf, putting one under the coffee machine and the other beside it. “Coffee?” he asks.
“Uh…”
“It’s a simple question, Robyn, and…” He pauses as he turns to face me. Jack rests his lower back against the edge of the kitchen counter and crosses his arms over his bare chest as he leans back with an air of comfort. The action alone perfect for the whole brooding thing he has going on.
