Eyes twinkling, he shakes his head. “You’re so coy.”
Instead of thin leather bracelets, he’s wearing leather cuffs with spikes. His hair is messy and I itch to run my fingers through the strands. A T-shirt with layers of nails hanging from the material is stretched over his chest.
“You’re so sexy,” I counter, removing the oxygen lines going into my nose and sitting up. Drawing in a deep breath, I wince at the pain and cough. “If I remember, I told you so the night we met.”
“Georgiana,” he says in soft warning, sitting in the bedside chair and propping his guitar up. The headstock of the real one aligns with his tatted headstock when he bends his wrist. The flex of his muscles quicken my pulse. He seems oblivious, demonstrated by the disapproving lecture he launches into.
“First, you need to replace the fucking oxygen. Second, we need to forget about what happened the night we met.”
I lower my lids and bunch my sheet. “I know. I want to—“
“You lied about your age,” he says flatly. “Not that anyone will give a fuck. It’ll all be on me.”
“I’m so sorry I put you in that position.”
“Position?” he echoes with a wicked smirk.
He gives me an under-eyed look and I flush, giggling, the anxiety in my belly unclenching.
He smiles at me. I shift in the bed, ignoring the discomfort of my IV and the beeping monitors. All I see is Sloane and the smolder flaring in his gaze. My body responds immediately to his raw sensuality, and my face burns in embarrassment at how open I feel to his probing look. He has to see my desire. It’s too strong, too intense, to go unnoticed. In his presence, the darkness inside of me morphs into a bright light and kindles into a hot flame. “I’d never do anything to jeopardize you.”
“Why’d you do it?” he asks. “And was it only my dick you were willing to suck or anyone who happened upon you while you waited for asshole?”
Although anger flashes through me, his question is legitimate. His dick was stuffed in my mouth within twenty minutes of meeting him and he didn’t even know my name. Shame replaces everything else and I think about Crowell. If he was here, he’d give me something to make me forget and I’d be able to pretend I don’t have a care in the world.
“Well?”
Hanging my head, I wheeze a breath. “Crowell gave me the coke,” I begin, not sure where to start.
“And?”
“He brought me in that room and told me he’d be back in a few minutes to collect payment.”
Silence falls but a heaviness fills the air. I peek in his direction. Fury blazes from his blue eyes and something else, almost indefinable. Bitter envy, similar to what I experience whenever I think of Lana or try to figure out who Sloane could’ve been visiting at my parents’ house. My mind goes round and round with scenarios. Other than my mother—since he smelled like her—I don’t know who else to pair him with. Reason tells me it’s probably one of the maids. My mother is like Josh—elitist. She’d consider Sloane beneath her due to his age and his profession.
“Did you hear me?” he growls.
I press my lips together so I won’t moan like a dog in heat at his rough tone.
“You had no money with you,” he offers, low.
“You know he didn’t want my money.”
“A cock suck?”
A curt nod is my answer, but I’m compelled to defend Crowell. He’s a stupid ass; however, he’s my friend and has stuck by me when no one else would. “It’s only recently that he’s began to request a blow job in exchange for the powder. Most of the time, he gives me pleasure, too, so it usually isn’t one-sided.” As it would’ve been the other night.
His jaw clenches and his grip tightens on the guitar neck before he closes his eyes. When they pop back open, they’re angrier and colder.
“What the fuck were you doing there and would you have sucked another man’s dick if I hadn’t found you?”
“You almost sound jealous.” The thought makes me hum in my throat.
He doesn’t answer me, but stares me down until I give in. Blowing out a noisy breath, I plop back dramatically. “Crowell invited me to the party to meet you. He got me in. We’d only been there a few minutes before he brought me to that room. As to your other question, no, I wouldn’t have sucked anyone else off.” I chew on a fingernail to settle my nerves. “The whole thing confuses me. I’m ashamed of myself and sorry for the position I’ve put you in, but I wouldn’t change those moments with you for anything.”