Oh God, why did that sentence make her belly tighten and her pussy awaken?
“I’m tired, Bryant. I had a late night at Rocky’s.” Every word made her head hurt and her cheek throb.
He stood over her now, and she wondered if he was going to make her get up and cook him his fucking bacon and eggs.
“Why did Wyatt drive you home this morning?”
Her eyes focused in on him. It might as well have been Kenny asking such law-enforcement-type questions. God, when Kenny, Blake, and Quinn found out, she was surely going to get an earful. Damn and maybe that spanking they told her about for disobeying.
She swallowed hard.
“Well, Lena, I asked you a question.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything. How do you know anyway?”
“I was up early this morning. I heard the truck and saw him drop you off.”
He sat down on the bed, his thigh hit her thigh, and she realized that the sheets were all messed up and to the other side of the queen-size bed.
He looked her over, and she rolled another few inches into the pillow to hide the injury.
“I also saw you holding something against your cheek, Lena.”
His tone had changed. Was he really concerned over her, or did he just want to make sure she wasn’t playing hookie to avoid making him his breakfast? He was such a demanding, militant type. He wanted what he wanted when he wanted it or else.
He reached for her cheek and caressed her skin.
What the hell is he doing?
She was shaking from the connection she felt when he touched her skin and what this could possibly be all about. In a panic, she turned away from his deep, prying eyes. “You need to go, Bryant. I’m tired.”
“What the hell happened?” When she turned to look at his eyes, she realized that he had seen the bruising. He looked so angry and disgusted.
He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed.
“Who the fuck did this to you?”
“Please, Bryant, it’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal? Let me see.” He released her shoulders to gently turn her cheek toward him. He looked as if he were clenching his teeth or biting the inside of his mouth as he turned red with anger.
He stood up and paced back and forth by the side of the bed. “Tell me who did it. I want to fucking know who hit you.”
“It was an accident, Bryant. There was a fight at the bar and I turned to look and caught some big dude’s right hook that was meant for the guy standing next to me.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Did you ice it?” he asked, moving back toward the bed.
She turned onto her side.
“I will later, once I get some more sleep.”
She felt his hand on her shoulder. Then he gently caressed her chin below where the bruising was.
“Does it hurt?” he asked in a more calming tone. Her head was throbbing and she was so very tired.
“Yes. Please just go, Bryant. I’m sorry I can’t cook your breakfast today. I’ll stop by to make lunch, all right?” she asked with her eyes closed.
* * * *