Chapter Nine
Killian
I tell Brynn to take a shower after she’s done caring for the cuts on my back.
I’m tempted to go in there with her, but I don’t since she put in so much effort making sure I was neatly bandaged before bed.
While she’s in the shower, I get comfortable and grab my phone so I can touch base with the guys. I’ve been so busy with her, I haven’t had a chance to check in with Shane or Hex to see how things are going with the Rho Kappas.
I’m between texting Ryan and responding to their updates when suddenly, my focus is torn away by a noise coming from the other side of the wall.
Singing.
Brynn is singing in the shower.
And she has a great voice. Even through the filter of the wall, I can tell.
Can’t tell what she’s singing, though. The song sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it. It doesn’t sound like the kind of song that has a music video. Maybe a show tune. That would make sense. She is wearing a costume rooted in Broadway, after all. Movie version, sure, but still has its roots in—
Phantom of the Opera.
All I Ask of You.
Got it.
A faint smile tugs at my lips, picturing her lathering her long dark hair with fragrant shampoo in the steamy shower while she sings with all the gusto of the show’s ingénue performing for a sold-out theater.
But then that smile drops as my gaze does, too. It’s impossible to picture her in the shower without thinking about her naked, and as soon as I follow that thread, my thoughts turn a lot less wholesome. I can still see her singing to her audience in my mind’s eye, but now that she isn’t wearing any clothes, I have the most absurd impulse to rip her right off that stage before any of the rich fucks in the crowd can gawk at her.
I probably wouldn’t make a very good phantom. Can’t have her out there sharing her gifts with the world when I could keep them all for myself instead.
What the fuck?
Scowling at my own weird ass thoughts, I look down at my phone to see Ryan texting again, waiting for me to answer him.
“Yeah, sorry, I was busy having a fucking stroke. That sounds good.”
I can picture him smirking as he reads the message. “You need me to do a wellness check on you, too?”
“No. Just the roommate. Thanks.”
Sighing, I put my phone down and close my eyes, but with my responsibilities taken care of for the moment, I find my attention singularly focused on the pretty little songbird steaming up my bathroom.
All alone, too.
Such a fucking shame.
She’s a virgin, though. It’s too messy to fuck a virgin when you have no intention of getting attached.
Although…
I suppose virgin doesn’t necessarily mean completely inexperienced. Maybe I could play with her a little without making things too complicated.
My thoughts drift back to earlier tonight when I had her on the ground beneath me in the woods, the way her tits looked in that bodice. Everything about her was so fucking sexy—her rosy cheeks, her long curly hair mussed like she’d just been fucked around with…
It leaves me wondering how she looks when she’s truly been just fucked around with.
The shower turns off, and my cock stirs with interest.
“She’s not for you,” I murmur wryly, but he doesn’t seem to care.
As I listen to her quiet movements in my bathroom, I know she’s standing there naked—or if not naked, close to it. She has a bath towel but no clothes to change into. I told her I’d grab her something out of my closet to sleep in, but now that I’ve put so much thought into what she looks like naked, I’m wondering if I should grab her clothes after all.
How hard would it be to convince her to sleep naked in this bed with me?
This is a bad idea.
I ignore that stray thought and open my bedside drawer to check…
Ah, fuck.
Out of condoms.
I don’t know why it matters when I know I’m not supposed to fuck her anyway, but I’m a little annoyed at myself for not replenishing the supply.
The door cracks open and I push the drawer back in before I look over at her.
Brynn’s face is bare, her hair dripping wet, and her soft skin glints with moisture. Obviously, procuring clothing was her top priority when she stepped out of the shower.
“Hi,” she says, with a smile that feels like an apology for inconveniencing me. “Did you remember to grab that shirt for me to sleep in?”
“I did.”
“Great. Um, I didn’t see it on the counter.”
I told her I’d crack open the door and reach an arm in to put it on the counter so she didn’t worry about me creeping on her while she was naked.
But I didn’t do that. Instead, I stayed out here thinking about her naked and not getting her any clothes.
“I remembered to grab it. Didn’t grab it, though. I was texting my friend about checking in on your roomie and keeping an eye on your building entrance for a bit once he’s sure she’s okay.”
Her focus shifts, and relief transforms her pretty face. “Oh, thank you. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Why don’t you dry off and come back, and we’ll see if I’ve made any progress on this clothing mission by then?”
She rolls her eyes, but I can tell she’s not really that annoyed. “Why don’t I just grab something myself,” she says, straightening and opening the door. She leaves it open, and I feel the humidity from her shower start to drift into the room.
I watch her pad across my bedroom floor in nothing but a fluffy towel, and I can’t help thinking about how easy it would be to snatch that towel and satisfy my curiosity about what she looks like underneath. How easy it would be to taste her, whether she was in agreement or not.
I ease off the bed, but the sound the mattress makes when the springs release gives me away. Brynn glances back at me, her eyes widening at my unexpected movement. Without having to say a word, her body tells me she’s wary. Like back at the woods right before she ran from me, I note her gaze as it searches me for signs of danger.
She must find them, because I see a flash of the look I saw right before she fled into the forest.
I’m too close, though, and there’s nowhere for her to seek refuge in my apartment.
She retreats on instinct and ends up inside the closet. I advance on her and plant a hand on the door, just in case she was thinking about closing herself inside to keep a barrier between us.
Keeping my gaze locked on hers, I lean in the doorway and nod casually to the left. “T-shirts are over there.”
She swallows and eyes me uncertainly, but since I’m telling her where to find clothes instead of ripping the only fabric covering her away, I guess she decides to risk turning her back to me.
I watch as she nods gently, then walks more quickly than she needs to over to the rack of T-shirts hanging up. “Are there any you don’t want me to wear?”
Her voice is uneasy, but she’s trying to mask it. She’s not a great actress.
That’s all right. I don’t need her to perform for me.
I push off the doorjamb and join her in the closet. I can tell by the set of her shoulders she’s tense, but she keeps her back to me as if by the sheer force of pretending she doesn’t suspect me of being untrustworthy, she can make it true.
It’s as good a strategy as any, I suppose. She knows she doesn’t stand a chance fighting me.
I know I shouldn’t even consider giving her a reason to fight me, but I can’t seem to find it in me to care. She’s been triggering something dark and ugly hidden away deep inside me since I first fucking met her, something that makes me want to chase her around.
And right now, she’s alone with me in my apartment and nobody who isn’t loyal to me knows where she is. She’s wearing a fucking bath towel and dependent on me to keep her safe and provide for her.
I don’t mind doing it, but I want the perks that come along with that responsibility.
She sucks in a breath when my hand settles on her hip, but she keeps her back to me. I pull her back ever so slightly, bringing her body close enough that her towel touches my bare torso.
Then she swallows uncertainly, and my gaze jumps to her neck. It’s covered by her mass of wet hair, but I want to see it, so I gather her hair and push it off to one side.
She grabs a hanger off the rack, refusing to acknowledge my touching her. “Is this one okay?” she asks, but her voice trembles ever so slightly, betraying her true feelings.
She can play pretend all she wants, but there’s not a shot in hell I’m letting her get a shirt on. I think she knows it, so I don’t bother giving her an answer.
Just in case she resists, my grip on her hip tightens. I slide my other hand around her body and find the edge of the towel, but she quickly drops the T-shirt and pushes my hand away before I can unwrap it.
She sucks in a breath, ready to fight me, but I don’t make any sudden movements to set her off. Instead, my tone light and voice low, I tell her, “Looks like you dropped your shirt. Wanna bend over and pick it up?”
“No,” she says warily, her grip on the towel tightening where she’s holding it together.
As if we’re on the same page, I tell her, “I agree. You’ll sleep better without clothes on.”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”
I smile faintly at her tone. A little annoyed, a little indulgent.
She likes me, she just isn’t prepared to admit it.
“You ever sleep naked?”
“I do not,” she says firmly.
“Ever thought about it?”
“Nope.”
“You should try it. The sheets feel nice against your bare skin.”
“I’ll keep your suggestion in mind,” she says, a hint of lightness blending in with her a caution.
I think I already know the answer to my next question, but I ask anyway. “You ever spent the night with a guy before?”
Her voice is soft, but adamant. “No.”
Since I’m talking to her instead of pouncing on her, her guard is tentatively low enough that when I slide my hand back up her torso, this time, she doesn’t immediately react. She keeps her tight grip on the top of the towel, but as I lightly skim her stomach and slowly draw my hand higher, she waits to see what I’m going to do.
“I want you naked in my bed tonight, Brynn.”
Her head starts to shake, so I’m not surprised when she says, “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
“The virgin thing?” I ask.
Silence greets me, but she swallows; I take it as a yes.
“What if I promise not to fuck you?” I ask softly, hearing her sharp inhale. I don’t know if it’s in response to my words or the nearness of my fingers as they drag along the material covering her tits, but something is making her skin flush. I don’t think it’s lingering redness from her hot shower. “I won’t lie, I’d like to. I told you I didn’t grab you a shirt while you were showering because I was texting my friends, and that was half true, but I spent the other half of the time transfixed by the pretty little songbird on the other side of the wall.”
She exhales softly, and I notice her grip on the bath towel eases ever so slightly.
Satisfaction swirls in my gut and I find the edge of the towel, allowing my fingertips to trail ever so gently over her soft skin.
“You’ve driven me to distraction all night long, and I think the only cure is to have a little taste. Just a nibble,” I assure her, nipping lightly at her ear. “Just the taste of you on my tongue and your naked body twisting in my bedsheets when you come. That’s all I’ll take.”
“Oh, is that all?” She tries for playful sarcasm, but the attempt to be blasé only amplifies her nervousness.
She needs a distraction, so I give her one.
Leaning close, I push down one side of the towel to expose her breast. She gasps, then lets out a hitching breath when I palm it in my hand. A soft “oh” of pleasure escapes her, and I smile faintly at the way her nipple hardens, begging for my attention.
“It’s not such a high price, is it?” I tease, voice low. I let my lips graze the shell of her ear while my finger traces the outline of that needy little nipple. “I did save your life, after all.”
Her lips curve up in reluctant amusement. “And here I thought you were being noble.”
“Nah, I’m a mercenary, not a knight.” Her head lolls back of its own accord, but she fights to keep it from falling against my shoulder.
“You should have told me in advance you expected compensation for your heroism,” she murmurs a bit breathlessly.
“You’ll enjoy the payment,” I assure her.
I know how badly she wants my attention on her nipple, so I release her breast and leave her wanting. She swallows, the muscles in her throat working as she fights to hide her disappointment. “I don’t even know you,” she points out.
Wry amusement tugs at the corners of my mouth. “And if you’re smart, you’ll keep it that way. But there’s no reason we can’t have a little fun tonight.”
“I can think of reasons,” she murmurs.
“I bet you can.”
My hand slides around her throat like it belongs there. I tighten my grip ever so slightly, and the faint sound that slips from her lights my blood on fire.
“What are you doing?” she asks softly. Wary, but not afraid.
“Something reckless.” I lean in to kiss her bare shoulder and pleasure shoots through me when she inhales sharply in response. I press my lips against her skin again, closer to the delicate column of her neck. A smirk claims my lips when I make it there, and she tilts her head ever so slightly to make room for me.
She wants it.
A soft moan slips out of her when my mouth connects with the sensitive skin, but then she cries out because I’m rougher than she expected. Hungrier.
Is she realizing this is a bad idea yet?
I am, I’m just not in the mood to fucking care.
The pretty little virgin shouldn’t have dressed herself up like a sacrifice tonight if she didn’t want to be one.