Bound to Please(19)

He tossed the condom into the garbage and went to the sink. In Ruby’s bathroom, there wasn’t a stray hair to be found, and soap, toothbrush, and tissue box were arranged symmetrically. Even her makeup brushes seemed to be arranged in order; they stuck out of a glass vase like a bouquet. Her bathroom represented her perfectly: feminine and controlled. Each little glimpse into her life— from her orderly bathroom to her alphabetized record collection—came at him like tiny revelations. He didn’t want to be this fascinated by these little things, but he was.

He picked up a bar of soap and brought it to his nose. Jasmine. Ruby. He turned on the faucet and lathered the soap between his hands, rubbing until a rich foam coated his palms. He washed his hands, his face, took his time. He massaged the silky soap into his skin, scrubbing up like a surgeon.

Why was it so hard to think of leaving?

Here he was, in the bathroom of a girl he’d met less than twelve hours ago, sniffing her soap and trying to memorize the scent.

This was a fucking first.

He rinsed the last of the soap off his hands and face and dried himself with a soft towel. Then he pulled on his jeans and yanked his T-shirt over his head.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped back into the hallway. And when he rounded the corner to her living room her eyes fell directly on his, as if she’d been watching for him, waiting for him.

Two steps and he was there. “Baby, you okay?”

She nodded and gave him a little smile. “I think I’m still trying to process what just happened.”

He got on his haunches, brushed her hair off her forehead and kissed her nose. “I’m going to put you to bed.” Sliding his arms under her, he lifted her body to his chest, and as he did so she held his gaze, her dark eyes wide. Fuck, she was beautiful.

He held her tighter to his chest and ignored the strange feelings boiling inside him. It was natural for a top to feel protective. He kept telling himself that as he walked to her room, kissed her temple. He inhaled the jasmine scent of her hair, tried to fill his lungs and his head so he wouldn’t forget her scent.

Her room was easy to find—it was past her bathroom and down a hallway peppered with photography. As curious as he was about her, he couldn’t look at them. He didn’t want to know if there were any other images of her that her ex had taken. He didn’t want to think about it. Couldn’t think about it.

Still wrapped in the blanket, he placed her on the bed. His gaze fell on her bedside clock and he looked away. It was morning. Time was passing fast, too fast.

She was trembling, her legs and arms shaking. He tucked the blanket tighter around her body.

Sitting on the bed next to her, he brushed a lock of hair off her face. “That was pretty fucking intense, yeah?” God, she was stunning even with her eye makeup smeared, her eyes bloodshot, and her hair messy. It was too much, too good. His throat closed up.

She blinked a few times. “I don’t even know what to say. With Ash it was so different. Not like this at all.”

At the mention of her ex’s name he frowned. The thought of her with another man made his stomach tighten.

“I’ll call you tomorrow night, I mean tonight. We have to meet with some suits in L.A., but I can call you as soon as we check into our hotel.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t need to do that.”

“I want to do that.”

Closing her eyes, she pulled her hand out of his. “Really. It’s fine. This was really… great.”

“Great?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it?”

She narrowed her gaze, her eyes becoming more focused. “Yes. What else do you want it to be?”

“Ruby. I want to see you again.”

“You mean next time you pass through San Francisco? When will that be?”

He searched her eyes, not sure what he was looking for there. “We’ve decided to record here. Starting right away, so I’ll be here a few weeks.”

She pulled the blanket to her chin. “That’s great.” But she sounded less than happy, and Mark waited for her to go on.

“This was supposed to be a one-night thing. Nothing more,” she said.

“I’m not saying it will be.”

She sat up. “Exactly!”

He stood and pulled a worn quilt off a side chair, came back to her and tucked the second layer around her body. “Baby, you are making my head spin.” He couldn’t help but think that if this were any other girl, he’d have been out of there already. And yet here he was, practically begging to see her again.

“Listen,” she said, placing a hand on his. And when she looked at him her expression was downright placating. “This was, um, very pleasant, and you’re a really nice guy.”