I really do.
I dropped onto the bed to put on my shoes—coral-pink peep toes with ankle straps. The shoes were just a shade darker than the gloves from Vanessa Blakney, and luckily, already lived in my closet. I had not inherited the shopping gene from my mother, much to her great dismay. So, whenever I could manage to pull together an outfit without having to traipse through multiple shops to do it, was cause for a celebration. This year my gown was black, but its hi-low hem softened the look. Paired with the gloves and shoes, it came off feeling flirty and festive. It suited me. I felt a nervous shiver roll through my body at the thought of James and me spending the upcoming evening together. Like being out on a date "together." I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about what might happen after the ball was over. He'd said we would finally be able to talk about everything that had happened since my accident, and that made me a little nervous.
But it's James, and I have no reason to ever be nervous with him. Aroused, most definitely.
My mind wandered as I buckled up the straps, when I realized I was sitting precisely where James kissed me for the first time.
The morning after my accident. I'd woken up to find him in my bedroom watching me. Hungrily watching.
If I closed my eyes I could recall his lips touching mine. The perfect mixture of firm and soft. James definitely knew how to kiss—
Suddenly another memory pushed to the front. I was kissing James, and not the other way around.
Wait.
Had I had kissed him first?
In my bed?
But that wasn't right. I shook my head as a flash of us lying in this bed together—we were kissing—and his fingers were—
Inside me.
Kiss me.
Orgasms. Intimate touches.
Touch me.
Words spoken.
I love you, James. I love you…I love you…I love you.
I remembered every mortifying thing I'd done and said to him that night. And now his comment made sense to me when he kissed me in the car after returning from Thanksgiving with his parents. "Well, I should hope it was good, because you begged me to do it," he'd said.
Oh my God, no.
"It was something you did actually…well, something you said to me last night that changed my mind."
No, no, no, no, no…
NO.
I sat there stunned. Shocked. Of what we'd done together. Of what I'd revealed to James that night.
I had no idea how much time passed before I was able to move my ass off the bed and finish getting ready for the ball. It could have been five seconds or five hours. I couldn't say. My mind was on a repeating loop of something too intimate and too important for me not to have known about it until right now.
James knew, and he hadn't said anything.
I felt humiliation to the depths of my soul. Beyond expressible words. Why he didn't tell me?
He didn't tell you because he didn't want to tell you.
The fact that James had pushed aside my request to know more made me wonder if he was incredibly embarrassed at how I'd virtually attacked him. He could be with any woman he wanted. Now I wondered if he was offering to marry me to give me access to my trust fund simply because he got me—but it wouldn't mean anything more than perhaps stolen kisses for him. He probably intended to keep the booty calls on the side too. God. I'm such a fool. No wonder…
That James hadn't wanted to talk about the things we'd done and the things I'd said to him—once he realized I had no memory of it—crushed me terribly.
Crushed. Me.
But what do I do with that now?
"Winter, sweetheart, I wasn't using you." He reached for me and dragged me against his chest. I was unable to resist him whenever he touched me, even now when I was seething with enough anger to inflict bodily harm. Upon his body. I stared at those sludgy-green eyes of his, immobile, captured like a fly in a web. "I was letting you use me," he said clearly.
"You were letting me use you?" I felt my eyes sting with more tears. It's even worse than I thought. Pity orgasms. Fuck. "What does that even mean?"
He held my face in his palms and used his thumbs to brush my tears aside before he answered. "It means that I wanted to help you and give you whatever you needed to feel better."
"Orgasms aren't included in the patient care handbook." I couldn't look anywhere but into his eyes since he held me like he wasn't planning to let me go anytime soon. I was burning with embarrassment, wishing I could look away, but he wouldn't allow it. I felt heat settle low between my legs.
"They should be, because an orgasm was exactly what you needed at the time. You slept like a baby after the third one."
Three orgasms? Jesus.
"You're an evil bastard for not telling me what happened between us that night, James, and don't you even try to deny it."
"I try very hard to never be bastardly with you." He had the nerve to smirk at me. "You're one of the few people on the planet I actually make a concerted effort of being polite."
"Oh, you were definitely bastardly." I squirmed to pull out of his grip. "And trying to make light of it isn't helping your case, Mr. Slick Attorney."
He laughed at my comment and held me firm, as if I my struggles were mere amusement for him.
"The next morning when I was coherent, I even asked you if we could talk about the kissing and whatever went down after the ER visit. You said no."
I feel sick. I can't believe this.
I still hadn't given up on trying to free myself, because I knew if he got any closer to me I'd be doomed. I could barely think as the weight of his body pressed into me. The scent of spice with a swirl of his own unique flavor added into the mix of him crowding me onto the leather seat, and I was about done for.
"Fuck. Would you stop fighting me for a goddamn minute," he snapped, giving me a small shake for emphasis. "I'm not letting you go." And he meant it, because he didn't loosen his hold. "If you had recalled it the next morning, we would have talked, but when you didn't remember anything from the previous night, I made the decision to wait things out. That's on me, yes, but I didn't do it to use you or to hurt you in any way, Win. I wanted us both to be on equal footing, and we weren't that night with you as high as a kite on meds. I never planned to seduce you and keep it a secret."
"But that's basically what happened. You seduced me and kept it a secret," I managed to whisper, even though he did have a valid point. I had been incapacitated from the drugs they gave me.
"No." He shook his head sharply. "I did not. That's the God's honest truth. You asked me to touch you after—you kissed me. So, I asked you where you wanted to be touched. You answered 'anywhere…everywhere' and went wild when I followed your instructions. I would do anything for you, Win. There was no denying you. And there's no fucking way when I was given the opportunity to touch you, serve you, that I would turn it down. Do you think I'm made of stone or something?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, a wave of red-hot shame cloaked me like a blanket.
He wasn't lying.
Every word of what he said was true.
As he explained how the events of that night unfolded, I pieced it back together with him. It had happened just like he said. I came on to him. I begged him to touch me.
Oh. Please. Let me die now.
"M-m-my instructions?" I stuttered weakly.
"It was the sexiest fuckin' thing I've ever seen, and I want to do it again," he replied just before his lips crashed into mine.
My resistance ended the moment I felt him on me.
I melted beneath the demanding kiss, as he set me straight about what he wanted.
Me.
He thought what I'd done was…sexy? There was no denying you. And there's no fucking way when I was given the opportunity to touch you, serve you, that I would turn it down. And here I thought I knew so much about this man.