Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

She didn’t answer but she didn’t try to move away. I closed my eyes.

Claire’s POV

I could reach the remote on the coffee table, thankfully, and found something else to watch on TV once I heard his breathing even out. He had me on top of him and he was snoring. His arms were tight around me and I wasn’t going anywhere without waking him so I just made myself comfortable and watched TV with my head on his chest until he woke up a little over two hours later to the sound of his cell ringing.

So much for breakfast. I tried not to think about what’d happened. I didn’t want to think about that temper and what it might mean for my life going forward. I didn’t want to think about it so I just let it feel good to be in his arms. I let him comfort me with his arms around me, which was beyond bizarre because those same arms had lifted me up by my bathrobe a little while ago and were attached to a man who was hollering right in my face. I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of his heartbeat but I didn’t fall back to sleep.

I let myself get caught up in The Wizard of Oz, which was on television. I’d never get sick of this movie. Ever.

He didn’t reach for the ringing phone, though; he started running his hands under my robe, gripping my rear end. I felt his lips in my hair. Bile rose in my throat. s*x was the last thing on my mind right now. His phone started to ring again and at that same moment there was a knock on the adjoining door. We got to our feet. He grabbed his phone and I decided to go into the bathroom and get a shower, and get dressed.

I didn’t know what was on the menu for plans today, so I wore a pair of nice dressy cream colored walking shorts, a frilly tan peasant blouse, and some sandals. I put make-up on. Just some touch ups, nothing heavy or even noticeable. Just the bare minimum.

I couldn’t find my tweezers to clean up my eyebrows, which were looking a wee bit unruly, in my train case so I started to go through my purse and that’s where I found the travel make-up bag that Rosita had put together for me when we were in Mexico. I’d used it at the farm, too, and I knew there was a manicure kit in there with tweezers. I rifled through it until I found the kit and my eye caught something shimmery. It was Azriel’s silver chain with the crucifix. I lifted it out and looked at it. Then I remembered Azriel said I could call to have the spa people come up. Maybe I’d do that today while he was out and get my eyebrows and girlie bits done.

He came into the Hers bathroom, just walked right in. He grabbed his toothbrush from my train case and then his eyes landed on the necklace in my hand. He made a face I couldn’t quite read.

“Um, I could’ve been doing something embarrassing in here,” I said.

He rolled his eyes at me but he didn’t answer as he squeezed toothpaste onto his brush and started on his teeth.

“Next time I guess I’ll lock it,” I mumbled.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

His eyes narrowed and he spat toothpaste in the sink, “Don’t ever try to f*****g lock me out of anywhere.”

I jolted in surprise. There was an awkward silence where he was looking at my reflection in the mirror, then he put the toothbrush back in his mouth and resumed but I could see his eyes on the chain in my hand in the reflection.

“I, uh, Mexico,” I said, motioning to the case it had been in.

He gave me a swift nod, “Put it on for me.”

I fumbled and fastened it around his neck as he finished brushing his teeth. He was looking at me weirdly in the mirror. After it was finally fastened I plugged in my curling iron and flicked it on and left the bathroom.

As he came out, I started, “Breakfast got cold. Should I—”

He shook his head, “I gotta run. Boys are next door if you need them. Stay here. I’ll be a couple hours and then we’ll go do something.”

I nodded.

He took my face in both hands and caressed it, looking deeply into my eyes. I chewed my cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

I nodded but wondered if he was referring to being sorry about earlier or just now. He was still being a d**k.

He kissed me on the forehead and then on the lips. His lips lingered, looking for mine to respond, I guess. I tried. But I don’t think it was too convincing. He backed up and stared at me for a minute and then he shook his head slowly, “f**k, Claire . What are you doing to me?”

I frowned. How was his hangover and / or his temper tantrum myfault?

He pulled me against him and held me tight, almost too tight. Then he backed up, shook his head at me, grabbed his phone and then left through the adjoining room. I was relieved to be alone. When I woke up today I had no desire to sit in this hotel room all day while the whole city, it seemed, was having fun. But now? I hoped he was busy and stayed busy.

He’d been off, mood wise, with me frequently since we got back from the farm. He was broody, temperamental. Actually it’d started at the hospital, I think. I hated it. I hated that I had to walk on eggshells. Was this going to be my life from now on?