“Fuck her,” I vaguely hear in my descent. “To you, I make love…smash…and fuck. She’ll never have me. She’ll never know me. She will never have my heart.”
Before I can react in total shock of his admission, my consciousness wanes and I go under in complete pleasure. I don’t know how long I’m out and because of my previous experience with passing out during sex with Azmir, I don’t panic when I come through. In fact, when I awaken, I don’t open my eyes right away, but I do notice the limo is no longer in motion. I smell sex in the car and oddly find comfort when it reminds me of how I’ve lost consciousness in the first place. I’m curled in Azmir’s lap with his tux jacket draped over me. Then, completely fatigued, I fold into slumber.
I’m then awakened by sounds. I slowly open my lids and barely focus them to see Azmir cracking the window and pulling something white and fluffy into the cabin. I hear someone quickly greet him to have Azmir thank them before the window closes.
The next thing I’m aware of is being lifted into fresh air. I barely manage to crack my eyes and observe Azmir carrying me effortlessly into the private entrance of the building at the marina. We’re home? I feel the plush cotton material of the oversized terrycloth robe I’m wrapped in. How Azmir fully put it on my naked frame, I don’t recall. The attached hood is over my head as the side of my face rests on Azmir’s strong shoulder. Down at my feet, his tux jacket covers what the housecoat can’t.
I go back out.
I wake up to running water surrounding me as Azmir lowers me into the Jacuzzi. I hardly realize he’s naked, too, with my heavy eyes. Although I’m awake for most of the bath and makeup removal—yes, I swear, he removes my makeup with cloths—I don’t last much longer. After that, I’m awakened by Azmir demanding that I take two pills and down nearly two glasses of water.
Chapter 9
Rayna
The next time I rouse it’s the following morning.
My eyes regretfully open to the glaring sunlight, pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master suite. I shift my head to the opposite side of the room where it’s dimmer though not much. My body goes rigid, expecting symptoms of a hangover. Thankfully, my bout with dehydration is limited to my mouth and not my brain. No hangover. Once that assessment is out of the way, my thoughts transition to the man of the house.
Where’s Azmir?
As I push myself up from the bed, using my arms and shift my legs to support me, I cry out, “Ow!”
My thighs are throbbing and my sex is deliciously sore. Memories of copulatory activities in the back of A.D.’s limo flood the forefront of my mind. My lower back aches as well, but very dissimilar to that associated with my period. No. This is from my muscles being stretched in unfamiliar ways. Again, my thoughts race to the whereabouts of Azmir. Having the increasing urge to empty my bladder, I hop out of the bed without thought and screech from pain again. I find myself hobbling all the way to the toilet to relieve myself. I feel marginally better when I’m done.
Passing each room down the long corridor of the apartment, I search for Azmir. It isn’t until I’m well into the great room that I hear him on the telephone in the kitchen. Gripping my silk robe around my delicate body, I make my way in there to find him standing over the kitchen table, searching the contents of his messenger bag. Azmir must sense my presence because in no time, he peers up from the bag and finds me at the entrance of the kitchen, off from the dining room. His eyes go from inspection, to discovery, to lackluster of the discovery. In other words, him finding me isn’t welcoming.
He looks good…damn good considering our late night activities and the hour we made in it. His tall frame is wonderfully clad in a dark indigo suit, stark white dress shirt, and merlot oxfords. His hair and face are well trimmed and he smells divine, even from a distance. I notice his tongue toying with a toothpick in his mouth, causing me to envy it even in my aching state.
“Yeah, Rich…I got it. I’ll see you in a bit,” I hear the translocation of Richard’s, Azmir’s business partner, voice. “Indeed.”
When he’s off the call, he doesn’t even look back in my direction.
“You okay?” I ask timidly.