What We Owe

Chapter Seven

I slowly felt consciousness pull me out of the deep sleep I was in. I was exhausted from my dream. It was the absolute craziest thing...

I opened my eyes and didn't recognize the room I was in. This was definitely not my apartment. I slowly moved my eyes over my surroundings. The furniture, artwork, smell... all of it was so... that's when I noticed a heavy weight over my waist and a solid and warm object behind me. My eyes widened.

Shit, it definitely wasn't a dream.

I sat up, pushing his hand off of me, and turned to look at him. His eyes shot open at my sudden movements. He sat up, eyes wide, and then settled his gaze on me.

"What is it? Are you okay?" He asked, worry in his voice, seeming vulnerable for the first time since I had met him. He was shirtless and the rustled look of him right out of sleep was so sexy.

I stood up. "No, I'm not okay, actually." I started counting on my fingers. "I was kidnapped by a mafia sociopath, forced on a plane, tied to a bed, brought to a different city, trapped in his apartment with no mention as to what I needed to do to get back to my life, and now he is cuddled up to me while I'm sleeping. Did I leave anything out?" I finished, crossing my arms over my chest. The room was bright from the light outside. I had no idea what time it was. He looked down and let out a small laugh, running his hands through his hair. He got up and walked to an open door leading to a bathroom. I followed, not knowing what else to do.

He started the shower and I looked over his muscular back. He was only in boxers, and I had to bite my lip to stifle a moan of appreciation. I leaned on the doorway and kept my arms crossed. He turned to look at me.

"You were in my bed, so I'm not responsible for where my body and hands wondered to in sleep." He said, cocky grin in place. I hadn't meant to fall asleep, I had figured it was his room but I was just so damned tired from everything. "Care to join?" He said, jerking his head towards the steam now billowing out from the shower.

"Absolutely not." I said. He chuckled.

"You should, have you seen yourself lately?" I felt instantly self conscious and stepped in to look at myself in the mirror. My eye make up was smeared and my lipstick was all around my lips. I looked like someone had used a box of crayons to color my face. I saw him take off his boxers in the mirror and I instantly turned, facing away from him. I heard the glass door close. I turned back to the mirror once I knew he was in the shower and quickly splashed water over my face to take off all the residual of make up from the night before.

Once my face was clean, I glanced at the clear door of his shower and watched as he washed his body. I could still only see his back, but now had a clear view of his perfectly sculpted ass. I shook myself and walked out of the bathroom.

I had to figure something out, I couldn't stay here. I opened the drawers of his nightstand, trying to find anything I could to help my escape. Instead of a phone, gun, knife, or anything of some value to assist in a Shawshank level escape, I only found a few books and a Cartier watch from within them.

I could throw a book at him? It wouldn't do much and I would probably miss again. I heard the water shut off and I quickly shoved the drawers closed and sat on the recently slept in side of his bed.

He came out in a towel, walking over to a dresser. I watched him as he pulled out a new pair of boxers and a white T shirt. He dropped the towel and put them on. I looked away again. I wasn't shy necessarily, but I felt less pissed every time I saw more of his body.

"Getting shy on me now?" He asked. I looked to see his boxers on and him sliding the shirt over his head. The white of his shirt against the blank ink on his skin made them look more prominent.