Bound | H.S.

Chapter 22

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A wave of sickness wrenched me from sleep. I stumbled toward the bathroom and threw up again, kneeling on the cold marble floor, too exhausted to get up. I shuddered. Harry reached over me and flushed the toilet before stroking my hair back from my forehead. "Not that hot anymore, am I?" I laughed hoarsely.

"That shouldn't have happened. I should have kept you safe."

"You did." I gripped the toilet seat and staggered to my feet. Harry's hands grasped my waist.

"Maybe a bath will help."

"I think I'll drown if I lie in the bathtub now."

Harry turned the water on in the tub while still holding me with one hand. The sky was turning gray over New York. "We can take a bath together."

I tried a teasing smile. "You just want to grab a feel."

"I won't touch you while you are on roofies."

"A Capo with morals?"

Harry's face was serious. "I'm not Capo yet. And I have morals. Not many but a couple."

"I'm only teasing," I whispered as I leaned my forehead against his naked chest. He rubbed my back and the motion sent a sweet tingling down into my core. I drew back and carefully walked over to the washbasin to brush my teeth and wash my face.

Harry shut the water off when the tub was almost full. Then he helped me out of my panties and got out of his boxer-shorts before he lifted me into the tub. I ducked my face under the water for a moment, hoping it would clear the remaining fog from my head. Harry slid in behind me and pulled me back against his chest. His erection pressed against my thigh. I turned so I was facing Harry and his length slid between my legs and brushed my entrance. I stiffened. Harry would only have to push his hips upward to enter me. He groaned, gritted his teeth, then he reached between us and pushed his erection back so it rested against my thigh again and pulled me flat on his torso.

"Some men would have taken advantage of the situation," I murmured.

Harry's jaw clenched. "I'm that kind of man, Aria. Don't kid yourself into believing I'm a good man. I'm neither noble nor a gentleman. I'm a cruel bastard."

"Not to me." I pressed my nose against the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar, musky scent.

Harry kissed the top of my head. "It's better if you hate me. There's less chance of you getting hurt that way."

What had I told him last night when I was out of it? Had I told him I'd fallen in love with him? I couldn't remember. "But I don't hate you."

Harry kissed my head again. I wished he'd say something. I wished he'd say that he—

"You mentioned something Grace said to you." His voice was casual but tension gripped his body. "Something about fucking you bloody."

"Oh, yeah. She said you'd hurt me, fuck me like an animal, fuck me bloody when she talked to me during our wedding reception. Scared me out of my mind." Then I frowned. "I think that guy last night almost said the same thing."

"Before I killed him he said one of the women who bought dope from him told him you were a skank who needed to be told a lesson. She gave him cash."

I lifted my head. "Do you think it was Grace?"

Harry's eyes were like a stormy sky. "I'm sure it was her. The description fits and who else would have an interest in attacking you."

"What are you going to do?"