Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
RYE
“What are you still doing here?”
“I said, keep it down.” Bringing my finger to my lips, I hope she gets the picture, a pain drilling through my head.
That scowl hardens, Hannah looking, well, a mess.
Her tangled hair looks like she fought a lion, and she didn’t bother to clean off her smudged mascara.
Even the SBU t-shirt she wears has a hole at the collar.
I’ve seen Hannah’s lipstick fade from getting a little rowdy, but this? This is different.
My stomach twists, last night’s impromptu bender catching up with the throb in my head.
“Hey, earth to psycho.” Hannah snaps in my face, each one ringing in my head. Her eyes drop to my fit. A fluffy white robe I found in one of the bathrooms. “What the hell are you wearing and why the hell are you still here?”
“Why are you so loud?” I wince, moving past her into the kitchen.
“You’re lucky I’m not louder after you locked me in my room!” She shouts the last part, my head pulsing with each word.
“Will you shut up?” When I reach for one of the pans dangling from the ceiling, Hannah’s quick to grab it instead.
“Get out.”
I ignore the sharp spark when I press my finger against her chest, pushing her back until her ass hits the island. “Do not get in the way of my eggs, Hannah.”
“You reek.” Her mouth twists as I grab the pan from her hand, moving to the fridge.
“From the way you’re looking at me, I know I look better than I smell.
” With a glance over my shoulder, Hannah runs her hands over her hair, as if she’s trying to straighten it.
“And you look like one of those models caught in a candid photo at the after-hours.” I’ve always thought they were hot, but I won’t tell her that.
She blinks. “You really think you can walk back in here after you locked me in a room and just make breakfast like we're having a slumber party?”
“Yeah.” I grab the eggs from the fridge.
“Stop acting like you live here.”
“Hannah, I stayed.” After slamming the carton on the counter, I light the gas stove, the flame coming alive. “Deal with it.”
“No, I’m so through dealing with you.”
“Are you this mad I broke up your love-fest with Vince?” My mind flashes back to him on top of her, my fists still stinging. “I’d be a wingman and call him over for breakfast, but he’s out of commission.”
“No kidding, you almost killed him.”
“I should have.”
“You’re psychotic.”
“You’re an attention-whore.”
“So I deserved that? I deserved assault?”
My hands wrap around her wrists, swinging her around before trapping her between me and the stove. "It's not assault when you want it."
“Fuck you.”
My grip tightens. “You just can’t say no to attention.”
She glances back at the flame, then me, her eyes narrowing. “You’re sick if you thought I want that kind of attention.”
“You were wet as fuck when I touched you.” The heat from the stove should make this hangover worse, but it's only fuelling me. “So, who’s really the sick one?”
She tries to fight against my hold. “Still you.”
“Was it the way he forced you to the fucking ground?” My hand comes to her throat, Vince’s face in my head. Him on top of her, her unmoving body on the ground. “Was it the way he made you scream? Is that what gets you off?”
“No!”
“Was it his hand over your mouth? You like being a tease to assholes like him? Is that it?”
“I don’t want him!”
“Then why the fuck did you let him touch you?”
Silence takes over, Hannah’s eyes glossing before she looks down.
“Sometimes that’s best, Rye.” Her voice softens.
“He's stronger. He was determined, and sometimes I get to a place in my head where I accept my fate.
I zone out. You don't know what it's like.
" The bite in her voice returns. "So don't stand here and tell me I wanted it when I didn't, you archaic monkey. "
Her words settle in the air. “What the fuck are you saying, Hannah?”
“I don’t know.” She pulls away again.
I pull her closer. “Did you dissociate?”
“You don’t understand. You're a Crown. You're a man.” Her eyes blur. “You don't have to worry about someone taking advantage of your body.”
"How often does this happen to you? Who else touched you like that?" She doesn't answer, her head hanging again. Tilting her chin up to me, I catch her blurry gaze. “Is that what you do with us? Dissociate?”
She takes a moment, the silence in the room making me wish for that god-awful music to come back.
“No.” Her words linger, her eyes locking with mine.
Time slows, my grip loosens.
Hannah yelps.
It’s only then do I realize I let her fucking slip. Right on the flame.
"Shit. Fuck. I—” I’m quick to turn off the burner, ignoring that I sound like a stammering idiot. She moves away. Too far. “Wait a minute.”
My arm wraps around her to keep her in place. Her body stills. So does the air around us. A warm tear lands on my chest. Then another.
Are you hugging Hannah Alfonso?
And why can’t I let go?
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asks the same question I'm searching for an answer to.
“Trying to help.” She deserves my wrath after what she did. She didn’t deserve Vince. I lead her over to the island behind us, my arms still wrapped around her. “Let me see.”
“Let you see? Are you still drunk?”
Her back to me, I lean her over the island counter. My fingers graze her thigh when I lift her shirt, my abs tightening. She’s not wearing any underwear, and it’s hard to pull my eyes away. Ignoring the jump in my pants, I peel her shirt up to the red spot on her back.
She hisses when my fingers land on it. “Be gentle. Or is that impossible for you?”
“Relax.” I’m too tired to fight. “I’ll be gentle.”
“As gentle as a raging giant.”
“You want me to kiss it better, is that it?” I tease, a twist in my stomach coming with it.
“Shut up and just… don’t make it hurt more than it does already, okay?”
“For a brat, you’re a big baby.” Leaning over, my lips hover over that red spot on her soft skin. Her body rises off the counter as if she feels the heat of my breath.
“Stay away from Hannah.”
Clearing my throat, I lean back. “Where’s your first aid kit?” She points to a nearby drawer, next to the sink. “Stay.”
“I’m not a dog.”
“Bet I can make you crawl like one.”
She looks back, her head against the counter. “Without a knife?”
Smirking at her response, I move to where she directs, finding the kit and searching for some ointment. “You’re the one who likes sharp things.”
“I do not!” Her tone isn’t convincing. “You’re the one who started it. At the gallery.”
“Usually, people get scared when something sharp comes to their body.” Rubbing some ointment on my fingers, my eyes move to her ass again, still poking out of that shirt. “But not you.”
“You don’t want to hurt me, Rye. Not like that anyway.”
My fingers hover above her burn, my eyes still on her ass. “You sure about that?”
She lets out a sigh when I apply the ointment to the burn. “You’re careful. You never cut me. You never make me bleed. Is… is this something you do with other girls? Some game you play?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
I shrug. “I used to hunt with my father.” Her warm skin feels good on my fingers as I rub the ointment into the burn. “He taught me how to skin an animal. It takes a lot of patience.” Her skin is hot under my fingers, spreading through my hand, up my arms.
“Is that what you want to do? Skin me?”
“You know what I want to do.”
“Own me?” She asks it mockingly.
“You like it.” I know she does. I felt it. “Do we need a safe word for next time?”
“Next time?”
“How about ‘White Flag’? Whenever you want to surrender, say it, and I’ll be nice.” There’s no oil left on my finger and, at this point, I’m just rubbing her back.
“There won’t be a next time.”
“There will. You’ll piss me off again, and I’ll want to punish you. Wouldn’t want you to be a baby about getting hurt.”
“If you wanted to hurt me, you would.”
“Who says I won’t?” My voice lowers, Hannah’s body stiffening.
I notice when she squeezes her thighs together as my lips lower to her skin again.
“Who says I won’t still make you plead for mercy?
” My lips land on her burn, her skin warm and soft.
I don’t miss when her hand turns into a fist, like she’s fighting something.
“Except I’m not Vince. I don’t ever give you anything you don’t want.
” I kiss her back again, her spine giving me a trail to trace.
“Rye,” she sighs, but I’m not sure if it’s a warning or a plea.
I keep going, my kisses leading to her ass.
Pushing her shirt up a little more, my lips land on each of her soft, supple cheeks, and it only makes me want to bury my face between them.
Hannah’s body tenses and releases with each kiss as my hands come to her ass.
The urge to make these cheeks as red as the ones on her face overtakes me, and I slap my hands against her skin. Her back arches. “Rye…”
“I like when you say the name of who controls you.” My lips hover right above that crease, and maybe I’m still drunk or high, but I want more. “Tell me you want me to stop, and I will.”
Buzzzz! Buzzzz! Buzzzz!
The Jaws theme song plays from her phone, beside us on the island.
Hannah’s head pops up, her shirt slipping down to where my hands grip her ass. My eyes move to the lit-up screen, reading the name.
Mother.
“Shit.” Hannah pulls away as she reaches for her phone. She glances at me, biting her nail. “Ma, hi.”
My muscles are tighter than Coach’s drills as I turn to the stove.
I try to keep cool, acting like it’s normal to open a carton of eggs in the Alfonso lake house.
Despite the rumble in my stomach, I can’t concentrate on making breakfast. My fists clench against the counter, my jaw tight, my dick hard.
What the fuck was that?
Kissing Hannah’s back? Rubbing it?
Caring for her? When she ruined my life?
“Yes, the lake house was the only place I could go.” Looking over my shoulder, Hannah glances at me, then lowers her voice, but I can still make out the rest of her words. “You kicked me out.” She turns her back to me before her voice rises again. “In thirty minutes? Wh—okay. I’ll see you soon.”
Hannah’s right. Why am I still here?
Why is my heart still pounding?
Why can’t I unclench my jaw?
“Rye?” A finger comes to my shoulder, Hannah tapping it. “We have to clean this up. Now.”
“That sounds like a you-problem.” Crossing my arms, I lean against the counter. “Cleaning’s not my thing.”
Her hands come to her hips, that shirt sinking into her curves. “It is your problem if you want to keep your little party pad alive.”
“You keep talking to me like you’re in charge, Alfonso.”
She crosses her arms, mimicking my stance. “Get to work. Or get out and never come back.” Her glare lingers on my face.
“Stay away from Hannah.”
I know I should leave. Things could get weird. I should walk away.
So why am I reaching for a cloth?
“Keep it up, Hannah.” I toss the cloth into the air, catching it with one hand. "And you’ll need that safe word after all.”