As Blake got into bed, he wondered what Jewell was doing right then. Was she applying some of the expensive lotion sitting on her bathroom vanity? Was she slipping on the silk pajamas he’d had laid out for her? Was she thinking about him?
He shouldn’t give a damn, but he wanted to know what was happening inside her head. He wanted to know desperately. He’d never before brought a woman to his apartment. It was his sanctuary. It was a place to which he certainly didn’t invite strangers. That was thoroughly practical. If women didn’t know where he lived, there was less chance they would hassle him when he was finished with them.
So why had he brought Jewell here? Damned if he knew.
His personal assistant had been shocked when he called her a few hours earlier and told her to find night wear and women’s toiletries along with a collection of clothing that would be suited for any occasion. Of course Jewell came with her own clothing, but he didn’t like the sort of outfits McKenzie chose for her escorts.
His assistant hadn’t questioned him, and he was grateful that he had a semblance of respect for one woman in his life. More than a semblance, actually. He liked her as a person.
Now, if only he could find some solace in his own apartment. After fifteen minutes of lying on his bed wide awake, Blake knew the only thing that was going to help him was some intense sweating.
He threw on some workout clothes and went out into the hall. Walking past the room Jewell was in, he paused, his hand lifting toward her doorknob for only a millisecond. He turned away and went down the main stairs, then down another set of stairs to his home gym.
Turning the setting on his treadmill to a respectable speed, Blake ran until Jewell was flushed from his mind. Then, after climbing back up both sets of stairs, he rinsed off in the shower again and collapsed onto his bed. He was thankful when he finally felt sleep claiming him.
Chapter Nine
Jewell felt as if she had sandpaper in her eyes. She didn’t want to open them, didn’t want to wake up. It had taken her hours to fall asleep the night before. When she was slipping on the pajamas she’d found laid out on her bed, she’d heard Blake’s soft footsteps in the hall outside her room. He’d paused by her door, and she’d held her breath.
She wasn’t sure whether it was from anticipation or fear. But when he continued walking, she’d let out her breath and slid onto the bed, her knees unable to hold her. She had listened for him to return, and a long time later, when she heard his footsteps again and he again paused by her door before continuing on, her body had tensed — just like before.
Only then had she finally been able to nod off and forget her troubles. Now, she was gripping the covers beneath her chin and forcing her eyelids together, afraid of what she might see if she opened them. He might be sitting there watching her. Though she knew he wasn’t there — she couldn’t explain why; she just knew. But still, she had a sick feeling in her stomach.
Finally, fully aware that she’d never get back to sleep, ever so slowly she lifted her eyelids. She was on her side and facing the empty expanse of the huge bed. It took a moment, but she noticed a piece of blue paper on the pillow beside her.
She gazed at it as she worked on sitting up. Her name was written neatly at the top. Did she want to read what it said? There was also a small box sitting next to the note, and she was certain she didn’t want to know what it held.
But this is what she’d signed on for. She knew she couldn’t get out of it, so, ignoring the box for the moment, she reluctantly lifted up the note and unfolded it. She read through it twice, her cheeks flaming before she looked with disgust at the box.
What had she gotten herself into?
You did well last night, but you have a long way to go before I am pleased. I’ll be at work, but I want you to be thinking of me while I’m away, so use the device in the box immediately after you wake up. Keep it inserted all day. Do not take it out! I will do so when I’m ready for you. You’ll find a list of instructions on other matters sitting on the kitchen counter. I will be back at six this evening, and I expect you to be ready and waiting for me.
Blake
Jewell picked up the box gingerly, with a moue of distaste, and just stared at it. Did she really want to see what was inside? Did he know she hadn’t been with a man before? He had slipped his finger inside her. Had he been able to tell they wouldn’t fit together? Was the device meant to help somehow?
That seemed the most logical explanation if he wanted her to insert something there.
When she lifted the lid, she found a bullet-shaped device that had her blinking at it in question. It was really quite small, and that didn’t make sense if he wanted to stretch her out to accommodate his impressive size. She twisted the thing in her fingers and wondered why in the world he had given it to her. And what would happen if she defied him?
If she did this, though, would it make sex with him less painful? How? She didn’t seem to know anything anymore, and that was almost worse than anything else. She remembered a time when she’d been excited about the idea of having sex for the first time. Didn’t everyone say how magical it was? Instead of finding magic, she was selling her virginity to someone she didn’t even like — from what little she knew of him.
What did that make her? Stupid question.
Tears threatened, but she wouldn’t let them fall. None of this was about her. She would do whatever it took to protect her brother, to keep her promise to her mother, who’d been a wonderful parent and her best friend. Jewell missed the woman so much that she still ached.
Yes, things could be a lot worse. Yes, Blake was cold, yes, he was demanding, and yes, she knew he wanted to take all he could from her. But at least she was attracted to him, even if it disgusted her to feel that way.
She picked up the “bullet” and the small tube of lubricant that accompanied it and moved to the bathroom, deciding she needed another shower before she did anything. Just looking at the device made her feel dirty.
When she climbed from the shower, the steam hanging in the air, she picked up the toy and applied the lubricant, following the directions that were included in the box. Then, standing before the mirror, she placed the tip of the device at her core and began applying pressure.
The pressure of it going inside made her stop. It wasn’t pleasant, not pleasant at all — the metal was cold, too. She tried to pretend it was a tampon. She’d inserted one of those a million times, and this thing probably wasn’t even as large. So it couldn’t be any more uncomfortable, right?