Chapter 5
LETTY
I’m a coward, and this is not the person I am.
Okay, that’s a lie. I run. It’s what I’ve had to do, but it’s not what I need to do when it comes to Matthew Carlisle.
He’s safe. At least he seems to be thus far, he’s never crossed a line in the creep type vibes.
Sure, he’s been taking care of himself while saying my name, but I’ve done the same.
Only it wasn’t out in the open, literally, but in the comfort of my own bedroom.
I take a deep breath while plastering myself to the wall in the small alcove near the restrooms after asking Carrie to drop off the drinks at Matthew’s table.
I didn’t think I’d see him this soon, and now that he’s here in the flesh, well, my mind went haywire.
The only thought I could come up with was to run.
“Get it together, Letty girl.” I tip my head to the ceiling, close my eyes, and swallow the lump that’s slowly forming. It’s not the I’m going to break down and cry type of situation, more along the lines of the world feeling like it’s closing in on me.
The restaurant noises are muted, but I can still hear the hustle and bustle—the clanking of glasses, the chatter between customers, and the sports that are broadcast on the plethora of televisions that are mounted to the wall.
You’d think that the noise would overstimulate me more, yet it doesn’t.
It’s a balm to my soul. I spend more time alone with my thoughts than the average person ever should.
A shield to protect myself and others is to stay to myself.
Only now, it seems like the script has been flipped on me. Damn Matthew Carlisle.
I nearly jump out of my skin when two hands grab my waist, so lost in my thoughts that this could very well be the end of my demise.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I lower my head, keeping my eyes screwed shut, scared out of my mind.
My heart beats at a staccato, abnormally fast, and it may well jump out of my chest.
“Open your eyes, Letty. Let me see you, kitten.” His voice soothes any of my worries.
It still doesn’t balance out my senses that are in overdrive.
I lick my lips, gathering the courage to finally look at him, and before I can do anything, the low groan Matthew gives me has my body trembling with need.
God, I can imagine him making that exact same sound while he’s thrusting his powerful hips in and out of my wet center.
“Kitten, a man can only hold on for so long before it becomes too much.”
When I finally deem it a good idea to open my eyes and see the hunger scorching me with desire like I’ve never experienced before, I realize I’m way out of my element. This man standing in front of me has no problem displaying his desire for me.
It should scare me. He should scare me.
I should be running for the nearest exit. There’s only one issue with running.
I want to run toward him.
I want him to wrap me in his arms.
I want him to hold me.
And I don’t want him to ever let me go.
“Matthew.” His fingers press deeper into my curves, thumbs sliding along my hip bones and the rest digging into my ass as he presses in. I can feel him, all of him, including the hard ridge of his cock that is slowly rocking into my body.
“I like the way you say my name, Letty.” He dips his head, nose sliding along my throat, where he pauses to breathe me in, and damn it, I swear I can feel the tip of his tongue blaze on my pulse point.
“This is wrong. I’m your employee.” I’m attempting to be the voice of reason, but my voice is weak, and I’d never deny his touch.
When Matthew pulls away from my neck, a soft mewl leaves me, and even though I try to swallow the sound, it doesn’t work. I can tell by the sudden stop of his movement that he heard it, too.
“We’ll go back to that. However, I want to make sure you’re alright.
” His sincerity is another turn-on. He’s got money, there’s no denying that.
And while my life was once pretty cushioned, we never made it seem like we were better than anyone else.
The same can be said for the man in front of me.
Yes, he lives in a lavish penthouse well above the clouds and trees.
No, he doesn’t buy exuberant pieces to furnish his house.
He prefers to keep things until they can’t be cleaned or saved anymore.
He doesn’t vacation, and the few things Matthew does spend money on aren’t vain in the least.
What he does like is nice clothes, quality cuts of meat, produce that is the ripest and healthiest, and when he asks me to help prepare for having his friends over, he requests the same.
He doesn’t cut corners, and he makes sure I go home with meals even when my contract doesn’t require him to do so.
“I’m okay. I just needed a moment.” I pick up my foot, showing him the reason behind the break, even though I’m lying through my teeth.
“Alright.” Matthew’s not picking up what I’m putting down. Realization hits him as I avert my eyes. I lose his palms on my hip as he cups my cheeks, feeling the slight roughness of his skin as he soothes the worry of me biting my lip.
“I should probably get back to work. I can’t afford to lose this job.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. I let my mouth do way more talking than I ever should have.
“Kitten.” There’s an undercurrent of emotion I can’t quite decipher, but the way his head cocks to the side, deep in thought, is all I need to know.
He can see right through me. The dark circles beneath my eyes that no amount of concealer, green, peach, or orange, has helped.
I’ve tried them all, and it doesn’t help that with sweat, it ends up caking to my skin, making it seem like I’m peeling.
Then there’s the weight I’ve lost recently.
Stress is a killer, and at the first sign of worry, my appetite is completely destroyed.
I’m down to eating one meal a day, forgoing the protein bars and snack packs I’ll usually toss back between jobs.
The only thing I haven’t lost is my boobs.
I swear they won’t go anywhere and become more of a pain every single day.
The outfits at Twisted Oak do nothing to help, either.
The owner is of the mindset that while this is an upscale bar and restaurant, he wants us all to look a certain way, and it just so happens to include short and tight clothes.
“You won’t ask for help, will you?” Matthew inquires when I remain silent.
A quick shake of my head is the only answer I’ll give him.
“I’ll leave it be for now. Are you okay to return to work, or do you need another minute?
” Apparently, a cat has my tongue because coming up with words is inherently hard.
Instead, I take a steady breath, cover his wrist with my hand, and turn my head in such a way that I’m able to kiss his palm quickly.
A bold move from someone who’s never seen a naked male’s form before until the other day.
I’ve yet to see him without steam or condensation coating the shower wall, but what I did see is what my audiobooks describe rather vividly.
I’d say the make-believe heroes have nothing on Matthew Carlisle.
“I’ll see you at the table.” He is doing all the talking, seeing as words are hard to form.
I nod as an answer, and he drops his head to the crook of my neck one last time.
My hand is still holding his wrist, and I can feel the blood thrumming through his veins with my thumb.
I’m not the only one affected by our closeness.
It seems we both go haywire when one of us is near the other.
“Matthew.” His lips graze my skin ever so slightly, causing my eyes to close and the muscles in my thighs to pulse. I try in vain to calm the riot of nerves between my legs.
“Soon, Letty.” I’m left feeling flushed and needing to dart into the restroom.
I can’t necessarily splash water on my face, but at least if I run cool water along my wrists, it’ll somewhat calm me down.
I don’t stay very long, and I definitely don’t look in the mirror.
I already know what I’ll see looking back at me, then I’ll second-guess if I should finish my shift or not.
Money is too damn tight to even contemplate the thought.
Instead, I’m in and out of there in a matter of minutes, keeping my head down and excusing myself just as a customer walks in.
Later tonight, when I’m alone in the comfort of my own room, I can process what’s happening between me and Matthew.
I’ll even make a list of pros and cons, one of the apps in my phone besides the digital library that gets the most use.
There are no names, no addresses, or anything telling, erring on the edge of caution just in case.
“Hey, drinks at the table. The appetizer is up. Do you want me to take over?” Carrie asks when I make it back to our station. She’s a lifesaver and only questions because she knows I never ask for coverage.
“Hi, thank you. I’m good now. Just needed a moment. Anytime you need me to cover you, I’ll gladly return the favor.” I look out at my area to see if any of my tables need anything while I drop off Matthew and his friend’s appetizers.
“Girl, I know. We’ve got each other’s backs.” Carrie high-fives me, puts on a genuine smile, and we get back to work.
“That we do. Thanks again.” She makes a noise that indicates it was no big deal.
From there, she goes one way, and I go the other, grabbing a tray to carry the fried pickles as well as a pitcher of water.
One of my tables has cleared out, which means I need to tidy up a few things before Jacob, our busser, does the rest. We have a system here at Twisted Oak when it comes to our co-workers, picking up when someone needs help, tipping out the bar and bussers.
And while the owner isn’t that great due to the uniforms that are required to wear, other than that, I guess Gus isn’t too bad.
It could be worse. It could always be worse.