She slipped out of the bed quietly, careful not to disturb Forrester who was sleeping soundly. There was a desk across the room and she sat on the beautiful antique chair and put on the hotel room coffee machine. As her cup of coffee percolated, she watched Forrester sleep.
The tattoos on his arms and torso were intricate and beautiful, and seemed to tell a story. There were the pit bulls of course, which she knew represented the things his father had done to him as a child, but there were happy things too. There was a sunrise over an ocean, there were mountains with what appeared to be vineyards growing on them, and a beautiful house with a barn outside it. If they were a continuation of the same story as the pit bulls, it appeared as though Forrester had managed to find some happiness for himself. There was also a gun tattoo however, and an open safe, and the logo of the Harley Davidson motorcycle company. Elle wasn’t sure what to make of it all. Could it be that Forrester was some kind of criminal? That would explain why he was staying in the honeymoon suite of what had to be one of the most expensive ski lodges in the world.
She sighed as she gazed at him.
He was so dreamy she could hardly believe he was hers. If he was hers. She knew all too well that the passion a man might show in the night, could very easily vanish the next morning.
Was that what was happening here?
Elle tried not to worry about that. She knew that her insecurities sometimes made her doubt people who wished her nothing but good. She couldn’t let her own demons creep in and spoil her relationship with Forrester.
But what if he was playing her?
What if all this was too good to be true?
It certainly felt that way. Who was she to deserve so much affection and attention from the hottest guy in town? Phil and his friends, she could see them giving her attention. They were the kind of creeps she was used to. But Forrester was different. He was above all of that stuff. He was living a life less ordinary. Elle could tell that much already.
As the coffee brewed, she couldn’t help but worry that she was being a fool. Forrester had been good to her, he was a kind and generous lover, but he couldn’t really be falling for her the way she was falling for him. Of course he couldn’t. Life wasn’t a fairytale. She was the girl who’d been abandoned by her own mother, after all. People didn’t love Elle. They liked her, sure, but they didn’t love her. She wasn’t worth it.
She bit her lip as she watched Forrester breathing gently in his sleep. Maybe he liked her. She wished she could jump into his mind and find out. Was he playing her, or did he really like her? She couldn’t take the risk. She couldn’t let herself get hurt.
She was a fighter above anything else. She didn’t drop her guard for anyone. Not for her mother, not for Gris, and not for this amazing man whose bed she’d just shared.
If he liked her, if he wanted her to trust him, he’d have to show her that. He’d have to overcome the defenses she’d built up around herself.
Silently, with a heavy heart, she picked up her clothes and put them on. Then, she quietly unlocked the bedroom door. She was gone before the coffee had even brewed.
Chapter 17
Forrester
FORRESTER WOKE WITH A START. The hotel room door had just been shut. He’d half heard it, half dreamed it, but he knew it was true.
“Elle,” he called out, softly. “Elle, are you there?”
No answer. He smiled to himself.
Gone already.
That was a first. Forrester had snuck out of girls’ bedrooms at dawn many a time, but this was the first time a girl had pulled the same thing on him. She wasn’t as easy prey as he’d thought. He would have sworn she’d be eating out of the palm of his hand after the night of sex they’d just had. There’s no way on earth she’d ever orgasmed as hard, or as often, ever before. He didn’t care who she’d been with, he knew he had a rare gift when it came to pleasuring women’s bodies, and they always came back for more.
Maybe he’d met his match.
There was a cup of coffee at the machine and he got out of bed to get it. It was hot. She must have just made it. Had she been intending to drink it herself? Had she thought better of being in a hotel room with a guy like him? He looked down at his naked body and despite the muscle and tattoos, all he saw were the cigarette burns and scars.
Forrester had confidence, but he wasn’t beyond self-doubt. He knew exactly what it felt like to be rejected. Had he just been rejected by Elle? He had a sneaking suspicion he had.
Was she protecting herself from him, so that he wouldn’t be able to reject her?
Maybe.
One thing was sure. She was in his head now and he wouldn’t be able to forget her. He didn’t think a girl had ever gotten under his skin the way Elle had. He pictured the look on her face when she’d orgasmed the night before, the way she’d bitten her lip and moaned his name. His dick got hard just thinking about her.