CHAPTER146
Go answer it and leave me alone to freak out. Leave me to calm down and stop shaking like a leaf.
I’m trying to sound cold and cool, but I’m petrified.
“I don’t give a fuck; now open the door. Why are you hiding?” He’s exasperated, hurt.
Why am I hiding? Because I’m scared. The overwhelming realization of what I’ve just done is drowning me. Jake’s anger and aggression are scaring me. I’m suffocating, and I can’t think straight. I can’t look at him; how could I? I’ve just seen every part of him naked and let him do things to me, intimate things. Pleasurable things!
For the first time in my life, they didn’t feel wrong. Yet I’m experiencing the most guilt and shame I’ve ever felt. It’s too much. My head feels like it’s going to self-implode and take my body with it.
The buzzer goes again, only this time longer and repetitive; someone is making it clear they have no intention of going away. He thumps the door once more, making me jerk, as he storms away cursing. Whoever is out there is persistent, and he knows they’re not going to just leave.
Now that I know he’s gone, I run to grab a robe. I’m vibrating all over, and I know it’s not just from fear. My body is still reeling from what he did to me, the overwhelming climax that rocked my entire world.
I pull off the remains of my clothes until I’m fully naked, swathing myself in the plush bathrobe, hoping to feel more secure, hoping to feel a slight easing of this crazy cold fear.
There are voices in the living room. I can’t quite make them out, but one is Jake and the other sounds like it might be female.
Who’s he talking to?
My curiosity calms me as nosiness becomes the overriding emotion, pulling me out of my own head. Knowing he’s with a woman out there, my suspicions are aroused, and a little green-eyed monster pushes herself out. At least it means he’s leaving me alone, and for that I’m grateful, but I need to calm down and pull myself together. I need to get my emotions in check. I’ve no idea what I’m going to do; I need to think, work out my next course of action, put it all back in the little black box.
I still hear the voices; they’re raised now, and I hold still. I strain to hear, but I’m scared to get too close to the door. I don’t know how to navigate this. I don’t know how to fix what I’ve done.
What happens now? I don’t want to be another one of his play mates that he picks up and drops on a whim. How could that work when I’m with him all of the time? I pale at the sudden realization.
He won’t want me around anymore if I’m just another fuck-buddy; he never keeps any of them around. He doesn’t date anyone beyond a month at most and never goes back to dating someone he’s seen before. Very rarely anyway. It’s not his style to back track. We can’t work together if this is what we do. He’ll replace me. Fire me.
I’m not sure I want to do that again anyway; I feel dirty and ashamed for letting this happen. I did what every other female on the planet does. I fell at the feet of Jake Carrero and gave him all of me. I am no better than any other woman he has ever had sex with.
No, in fact I am worse!
I am a broken, emotionally messed-up woman who turns every little act into a huge brain-fuck and overthinks every tiny detail. I am a woman who let herself fall for him, despite knowing what he is.
Why would he want to deal with all the mess that I am?
The voices in the room have moved away, and I realize they’re more muffled than they should be. Whoever is here has been moved into his room, and he’s shut the door. I physically slump knowing he would only take someone who has shared his bed into his room to talk, someone here in a non-professional manner.
Despite all my inner chaos, this thought causes a sharp pain in my chest. I pull the robe tighter around me and slowly slide forward to unlock the door, peeking out as I do. I can see his door from here, and it’s shut, the living area clear. My hands trembling, I move out slowly, pulling the robe tighter. Fear gives way to paranoia as my gut aches with warning.
I see the remains of my skirt and panties on the floor, and Jake’s clothes are still lying in a heap. Whoever came here would have seen them too.
I move forward to try and listen, my turmoil held in check for the time being. I want to know who’s in his room with him. I want to know if it’s one of his playmates, even though I don’t have the right to care. It’s getting to me on extreme levels, jealousy eating away inside, agonizing.
I get close enough to distinguish the voices and freeze as the raised, clear, overly familiar voice hits me like a ton of bricks, that snarly, whiny, bitch of a voice.
I gasp as my ribs retract, my heart thumping against them painfully.
Marissa Hartley!
Fuck."
