Rock Hard And Wet (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Nymphs Of New York) by Jennifer James Page B

array of items, ranging from cosmetics to a silver tray loaded with
food.
    Her
stomach rumbled, and she carried the tray back to the bed, being careful to
avoid seeing her reflection in the heavy silver framed mirror hung on the wall
above the table. The gods only knew what she looked like. She didn’t even know
how long she’d been here.
    Days,
weeks, months? Never in her long existence had she been attacked in such a
manner. The wounds had to have been grievous, especially for her to be convalescing
in a room like this. The room she’d been sleeping in was usually for guests,
not in the main area for the nymphs in the harem.
    No more
adventures outside Big P’s kingdom for her. Theo was right; it was too
dangerous.
    Did he
even know Booker had attacked her? For a few moments she’d thought he’d been
near, the fleeting feeling of a connection formed, but she couldn’t be sure. A
piece of mango lodged in her throat and she swallowed hard to clear it. Booker
had shredded her stomach, and then her throat. God, when that happened, she’d
wished Herodes had eaten her after all. The incredible river pain from the
assault would stay with her forever.
    But
even then, she’d felt like Theo knew, like he’d been there. The fruit plopped
from her fingers back to the tray in an unappealing mass. She ripped a small
piece of bread from the crusty loaf in front of her and shoved it past her
lips.
    She had
to face facts. Theo had thrown her out, told her to leave. The bread in her
mouth tasted like cardboard, and she deposited the tray aside on the mattress.
Eating held no point or appeal. The urge to draw until she couldn’t see filled
her, but the room was empty of anything she could use.
    Callie
decided to settle for the next best thing. A long, hot bath in the enormous,
round, sunken pool at the far end of the room. She dropped her clothes on the
floor and perched on the stone ledge while the water flowed in from three
separate spouts.
    She
rested her hand on her abdomen, amazed at the smooth, unblemished skin. Even
being near immortal didn’t explain how she’d recovered without a scar. When the
liquid was deep enough to cover her to her chin, she pivoted and dropped her
legs over the side. She scooted the rest of the way off the ledge and welcomed
the caress of the warm water.
    Left
undirected, her thoughts spun images from the attack on a crazed carnival ride
with a sadistic operator. Bile rose in her throat, and her stomach twisted.
He’d taken her organs out of her body and tossed them to the pavement like
refuse. Hot spatters of blood and fluid had peppered her dress and exposed
skin. The stench worsened as he punctured the walls of her intestines with
careless swipes of his claws.
    Callie levered
her arms up on the side of the tub and crawled out onto the cool, marble floor.
She ground her cheek against the stone, curling her fingers into it, scratching
ineffectually at the smooth surface. The stone was too hard to be penetrated,
and reminded her of the grotesque she’d been idiotic enough to fall for.
    The
memory snapshots changed, and the carnival ride worsened. Theo filled every
frame. She’d managed to store years of drawing material in her memory in their
short hours together. A gift and a curse. Endless hours to fill recreating him
in every medium she could imagine, but she’d never see him in real life again.
    The
whole thing had been doomed from the start. Creatures that lived under water
didn’t belong with those who soared above it. She’d opened her heart to him,
and instead of returning her love, he’d compressed her heart into a lump of
stone.
    And
she’d thought she’d learned all there was to know about men and relationships.
What a dummy she truly was. The nymph with the reputation for never getting
attached, who’d managed to never feel an ounce of jealousy over sharing Poseidon
with hundreds of other women, had gone and lost it all in less than a day to a
grotesque.
    She got
to her hands