CHAPTER 15
Chilly wind flips the soft white binders of the great window in my bedroom. I shudder, my own arms proving a great failure in keeping me warm. Tentatively, throwing the sketching book lying in my tummy aside, I rise on my elbows and sit up. My body feels torpid.
How long have I been sleeping? It's still afternoon . . . Or evening? I can't clearly tell as it’s a bit cloudy outside. It's raining once again— just lightly this time. My mouth stretches into a long yawn as I drop my bare feet down the fluffy rug, ready to face the music.
My gaze settles on the T-shirt I'm wearing, barely covering my thighs, and somehow the guilt lashes on me. Why did I raise my voice at Red? He didn't do anything wrong, did he? God, what have I done? I sigh remorsefully at realization of my mistake.
I take my sketching book from the bed and peek a quick glance at the few designs I made before I fell asleep. Holy cow! Did I just do this? A smile touches the corner of my lips as I behold the sketches of sexy lingerie that I'd want to see coming into life as soon as possible.
MK, my fashion brand, deals with swimsuits and lingerie only. I don't know what got me inspired and chose this line of clothing, but there's nothing that makes me feel accomplished than the sight of a piece of beautiful garment covering a feminine body and the confidence that lady exudes.
Laying the book back on the bed, I grab my phone and snap a quick picture of the two pages. Anne! I need to send these to Anne and see what she has to say; for she's my primary reviewer. Perhaps we may have something to start with so as I get out of this mess, I try being positive.
"There," I mutter after touching the send button, butterflies fluttering their wings in my stomach.
Afterwards I try calling Anne and yet it's the same voice mail I bump into. What's wrong with her? And where has she gone? She's been very mysterious lately with her never-ending trips out of Oregon.
Maybe she's got a boyfriend at last. I smile to myself.
"Hey, Anne, it's Mia. I've been trying to reach you since yesterday but I guess you're busy or something. I hope all is well. Call me as soon as you get the message. Kisses." I send the voicemail and sit on the bed.
Now what? It's only two-thirty and I'm so tired. I lie back on the soft, plush mattress, facing the ceiling, my feet stilled on the wooden floor. Will things get better? My mind wanders off. I need to fix my life. I have to salvage all I can manage to— that way I can live again.
After five minutes of utter idleness, I slowly get up and make an exit out of my room. The corridor is silent, cold even, and I wonder where Red is at the moment. Downstairs? I ponder, but I'm quite tempted to check his room. Maybe he also decided to take a rest as he really needed it.
"Well, why not?" I make my way toward the door to his bedroom, and I can't stop thinking of last night.
A lot has happened in a short Moment, huh? If my psychotic husband smells even half of what his darling little butterfly has been up to I'll be six feet under in no time. This is the first, and will be the last involvement I'll have with Red.
I hope.
A few knocks on the door lead me inside Red’s bedroom. He is nowhere to be seen but I can hear the shower running from the bathroom. Jeez— he's bathing, huh? My insides twist into a salacious dance at the thought of naked Red in a shower.
"No, no, no, no!" I shake my head, flushed.
There's a laptop lying on the table near the window. It's peculiar. A frown flits across my face as I near it. Big . . . No, heavy . . . quite different from my MacBook Pro and other laptops I've come across. It’s intriguing.
It’s black and rugged— a Toughbook I think— something very similar to those in . . . War movies? Ugh, what the heck, Mia? I chuckle at my stupidity. Maybe it's just an old version of Panasonic, I decide.
Prying more attentively I end up waking the screen. Oh boy! On the bright display a red dot keeps beaming inside a greenish map, some kind of satellite GPS, I suppose, for it's definitely not the usual Google maps I'm used to.
I frown once again, looking closer. I'm not that dumb as I'm a fan of all sorts of movies and I've seen this shit before. I'm about to touch something on the keyboard when the bathroom door swings open. I jump back instantly.
Red appears through the door, shower drenched, wearing a white towel that hangs dangerously about his sculptured waist. Woah. My eyes widen from more than one reason. His arresting sight being one of them, it's the feel of being busted that makes me gulp.
"What are you doing?" Red asks curtly, but hardly I detect any hint of displeasure that I was about to touch his things without his permission.
"Um, I was—" I stammer. What the fuck, girl! You were just doing something you shouldn't, now apologize! "I'm sorry." My voice turns out softer.
Sexy tousled hair, eyes as stormy as the typhoon in the hot desert; Red takes a small, nonchalant stride toward me. His chest— oh his chest is so naked, sinew lines of muscles and those damn six packs so well placed on its grand display. What a sight. I gulp again.
Red is menacing as he nears me and I cower. Oh no. Is he mad? I breathe warily and without knowing I'm stuck at the table, my butt touching the edge and it's where I stop. Holding my gaze, Red's daunting face suddenly alters into . . . concerns?
"How are you feeling?" he asks gently, and I'm taken aback. What? I blink twice. "Are you still angry at me?" he adds, his eyes calm, his voice cooler. "Mia, I'm sorry about earlier, I swear I didn't—"
"Shhh!" I quickly place my index on his lips, hushing him. "You don't need to apologize, Red. You didn't do anything wrong," I say, my confidence restored as I easily abandon the table and close the distance between us.
Red takes my hand that's blocking his lips and says, "I don't want you to get upset because of the comments from people who hardly know you, Mia. If they knew who you really are they wouldn't have said those things to you." Sincerity laces his hoarse voice.
Why is he making me all emotional again? I sniff.
"Do you think you know me, Red?" I blurt, gazing up at him unwavering. "Do you believe that?" I'm very curious of how deep he thinks he knows me.
Red smiles lopsidedly. "Maybe I don't," he says, kissing the back of my hand and then leans his cheek on it. "But I want do want know you, Mia Vera Diaz. I want to know the real you."
My feet feel weak on the knees. I breathe soundly at the chill evoked by his sweet yet arousing words. Mia Vera Diaz? He knows my original name? I'm totally stunned and I can't even ask for details. And then Red holds my waist, pulling me closer— Holy shit!
"Um, what is that?" I try to distract myself with a quick glance over my shoulder. "The red bean on the screen. Are you tracking or monitoring someone?" I clarify.
Red doesn't bother looking; his eyes are on my face. "It's the V.I.P," he replies.
"The V.I.P . . . Oh, I’m the damn V.I.P," I mutter, making Red smile indulgently. "So you're monitoring me? But we're in the same place, Red.” I frown.
Instead of responding to my question, Red leans over my face. I pull back, instinctively, my eyes on his face. Oh God! Once again I hold the table, and to my dismay, if not disappointment, Red stretches his and shuts the laptop.
I scowl, flushing like a fool.
"What?" Red chuckles with delight. Jerk! "And why are your checks red?"
Because it's the color of you! I want to scream to his face as I can't stop ogling his chest while marveling how he'd feel in my mouth once I pull that towel off his waist and attack him like an insatiable creature I've become.
"Can you put something on?" I ask sharply, catching a breath. Red coaxes a single eyebrow at me, stunned. "Please. It's distracting, Red. It makes me want to—" I bite my bottom lip, coyly.
"Do it," Red tells me flatly, grinning playfully.
"Huh?" I'm nonplussed.
Red's lips quirk into a small, lascivious smile, his eyes gleaming that irresistible gleam. "Whatever it makes you want to do, Mia . . . Do it," he repeats and my breath hitches right away.
I look at him for a very good while, contemplating my shifted emotions, his gaze amplifying my sultry demands as a libidinous frisson of desires plummets through my body. I want to taste him—all of him. I can't hold this fire in me; its riotous flames are too strong to be left alone. I need him like I've never needed a man before.
Jeez. What is this? I’m panting.
Wasting no second I pull Red's face for a hungry kiss. His arms encircle my waist steadfastly and he kisses me back, roughly, with same vehemence and greed. I groan into his mouth, our tongues swirling coherently, impatiently pushing him toward the bed where he lies down on his elbows.
"Oh fuck!" Red hisses, bouncing on the bed as I straddle him like a crazy, horny girl I am.
"I warned you," I mutter, my breath rugged. He grins. Swiftly, I pull the T-shirt over my head so I'm almost naked. "You don't need this." I undo his towel, and fuck— he's hard already.
That's my bodyguard!
Red licks his bottom lip. He's so enticed by my astuteness, patiently anticipating for what I'm about to do. I smile wickedly and tie my hair into a delicate knot. Leaning over toward him, I rub my breasts on his pulsing erection, from the base to the tip, laying it to his stomach.
“Ah!” Red tenses right away, and I'm just started.