Brutal Heir (Billionaire Heirs #2)

Chapter 16

Sage

I’m filled with excitement and trepidation, my heart beating fast in my chest. In a matter of hours, I’ve gone from hating Ezequiel to having mind-blowing sex with him. Twice. Now I’m in his house, standing in his multi-head shower, letting hot water cascade over my body. The droplets cling to my skin, and I revel in the sensation of preparing myself to share my body with him again.

Reality seeps into the moment. This should be a one and done. I can’t fall into the trap of giving myself over to him completely. The last time I trusted a man, it nearly ended me.

Come here, you fat bitch.

The memory sends shivers down my spine. I push it away, refusing to let it intrude into my life and ruin this moment. However, I do need to be careful with Ezequiel. This should be a one-time thing, and I need to keep my emotions in check. No matter how tempting it may be, I can’t let myself get attached. I need to create some distance between us, especially since I’m already feeling the pull toward him.

I close my eyes, letting the water wash away my anxiety and fear.

The temperature drops, so I turn the water off, my fingers lingering on the sleek metal knobs before I step out onto the plush bathmat. I reach for the towel, enjoying the softness against my skin as I dry off.

I take a moment to appreciate the exquisite design of the bathroom around me. I’m not used to this kind of extravagance, and, I have to admit, I feel a little out of place. I can imagine myself in a fancy hotel that has a huge bathroom. The oversized bathtub takes up one side of the room, tempting me with its ability to fit two or three people. I could see myself soaking away the troubles of the day, bubbles tickling my nose. Custom cabinets, anti-fog mirror, and a counter so big I could stretch out on it.

Wrapping the towel around me, I move to the counter and reach into my bag for my toiletries. After some face lotion, I run a brush through my hair, the bristles catching on knots as I work my way through. There isn’t a hair dryer in sight, and I’m not comfortable enough to go through the drawers to see if I can find one, so I make do with towel-drying my hair as much as possible.

I reach into my bag for my lavender nightie with a ruched top and flowing bottom. The silky fabric slips through my fingers as I pull it over my head. I pause for a moment, admiring myself in the mirror, feeling beautiful and desired. I’m not exactly sure what to do next. I know why I’m here, why I agreed to come. Does he expect me to be naked? I bite my lip. Well, I can forgo the panties. If he expects clothes, I’m there. If he doesn’t, it’s one less thing to deal with.

I reach for one of the water bottles he has on the counter so I can brush my teeth. The minty flavor tingles on my tongue as I rinse my mouth. I reach into my bag for my meds and pull out the pill box. I flip it over, emptying the contents into my palm, then pop them in my mouth as part of my nightly ritual. Grabbing the water, I take a drink and down the pills.

It’s only after I swallow that I realize one of the pills helps me sleep. I scrunch my toes against the smooth, cool tile and curse myself silently for forgetting such a crucial fact. How will that affect me tonight? How long until it kicks in? Did I just ruin any plans he had?

Taking a deep breath, I drop the pill box back into my bag. It’s too late to do anything about it now. I take hold of the doorknob, my nerves fluttering in my stomach. This is it. The moment of truth. I pull the door open and find myself alone.

There’s a moment of disappointment, but he did say he was going to clean up the kitchen. That was going to happen after I showered, so he wouldn’t take the hot water.

I pick my phone up from the counter then pad across the plush carpet to the king-sized bed. I’m even sure which side is his. I bite my lip. Should I go check with him? No, being here alone, he’d take the side he can get in and out of easily. That means I’ll take the far side.

Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, I place my cell on the bureau, beside the lamp. I take a moment to admire the room. The rich mahogany furniture is beautifully crafted, with rounded corners and intricate handles on the drawers. The room is dimly lit, with a soft glow from the bedside lamps creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

The man camp seemed to be going for shabby chic, but, over the years, it’s turned into dumpster chic. Sigh. But it’s better than having to pay for a place myself. With everything running more expensive in these little oilfield towns, it would eat into my check and sit empty for all but the time I’m sleeping.

As I lay on the bed, the smooth, cool sheets surround my legs. It’s a comfy cocoon against my skin. The scent of Ezequiel lingers in his bed. The intimacy of this moment makes me nervous. I’m not exactly sure what to expect. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves as I turn off the lamp on the nightstand. The room is plunged into darkness, and a shiver of anticipation runs down my spine.