The night before came rushing back in.
The exquisite pain. The incredible pleasure. Her unusual reaction after the scene.
And now she was in his bed.
She’dsleptin his bed.
Panic clawed its way up her chest.
Too much. Too much, too fast. Obviously she hadn’t been thinking last night.
Ellie never went home with a Dom. She’d only ever once slept in the same bed as another man – Steve - and she’d only done that once. He’d taken it to mean things it hadn’t, he’d thought it meant she was getting ‘better,’ and they’d be a more normal couple. In the face of his optimism, she’d freaked out and pulled back completely, and their relationship had ended. Just like then, she wasn’t ready for this.
The need to run hit her hard and fast, and she accidentally kicked Michael’s shin as she flailed, trying to untangle herself from both him and the sheets. The shirt she was wearing seemed to pull, practically choking her. Ellie never slept in baggy shirts with collars, she always slept in a tank top and shorts… it felt like she was drowning in fabric.
“Hey… hey… what’s going on, Ell?” he asked, his voice husky with sleep. He placed his hand on her shoulder, a gesture obviously meant to be soothing, but which did nothing to stem her bubbling emotions.
“I have to go.”
She could hear the shock and panic in her voice, and inwardly cursed. As much as she wanted to sound normal, she just couldn’t. She was too freaked out by how much she’d let go of herself last night.
She’dsleptin hisbed. After signing a club contract with him.
Being at the club was safe. There were rules. Boundaries. The expectations were well defined. But now… what the hell was she supposed to do now? How was someone supposed to act the morning after?
Kicking him, panicking, and waking him up was probably not high on the list of “best ways to behave.” She managed to struggle to a sitting position, although her legs were still tangled in the covers. Ouch… putting pressure on her bottom made the lingering soreness from last night flare to life.
“Ell, calm down, breathe.” His voice had deepened, becoming almost stern, as his warm hands pressed against her shoulders, holding her in place. Between the order, his hands holding her, and the throbbing of her ass, her brain finally stopped flipping out. She took a deep breath as Michael moved around to the side of her.
For a moment his arm curved around her shoulders, and then it suddenly dropped to his side and he took her hand as he sat next to her. Reluctantly, Ellie made herself look at him.
Even in the morning he was beautiful, his hair tousled and falling around his cheekbones, stubble darkening his jaw, and hazel eyes with only half the alertness they normally held. Wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, he looked like the kind of man every woman dreamed of waking up to. Well, maybe not every woman. But Ellie liked that he was lean muscle instead of bulky.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm, letting her know he wanted a real answer.
She blushed, averting her gaze in embarrassment at how she’d just freaked out for no real reason.
“I’ve never do sleepovers,” she mumbled.
Michael’s fingers twitched around hers and he was silent for a long moment. “Well then, I’m honored.”
“I can’t do this again.” She kept her eyes on her lap, not wanting to see his reaction. Not wanting to see if she’d just hurt his feelings. “This is too much for me right now. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t even really know how to do a club contract, but I want to try that at least, this is…”
“Ellie.” He squeezed her hand as he interrupted her. She still didn’t dare look at him but his voice remained gentle. Calm. Soothing. “It’s okay. Next time, I’ll find a way to get you back to your house or we’ll stay at the club longer, or… something. We can talk about it, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled.
The bed shifted as he leaned towards her and gave her a kiss on the side of her forehead. “I’m going to go get breakfast ready, okay? The bathroom is right across the hall and there’s an extra toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. Come on out whenever you’re ready.”
She nodded, still not looking up at him as he pulled open a drawer on his dresser and walked out of the room, pulling on a shirt as he left.
The second the door to the bedroom closed her head snapped up, and she looked around. The bed she was sitting on was queen-sized with a sturdy wooden frame. Nothing special. His sheets were plain white and the comforter was brown, neither of which matched the dark blue curtains hanging over the single window. Directly across from her was a dresser and she saw her dress neatly folded on top of it, her small purse sitting beside the dress.
Looking down at herself, she could see he’d dressed her in a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. What was more disturbing was she couldn’t even remember him doing so. While she did remember agreeing to go home with him - and it had made sense at the time - she didn’t remember anything after being carried out of the club. And she flushed when she remembered that.
It had felt nice. Almost too nice.
Distracting herself, she continued her perusal of the room. There were a few framed play posters on the walls, and she assumed they were shows he’d been in… or maybe just shows he’d been to and really liked? A half-full bookcase in the corner had her getting up to see what was on it. Ouchie… moving hurt a little. Her nipples rubbed against the t-shirt, the soft fabric feeling much more abrasive on the little buds than against the rest of her skin. The bookshelf was mostly scripts. Humana Festival books. A few graphic novels.
