Chapter 9 #2
“Mm.” She drew her head back to meet my gaze. “I think I might not believe that ’til I see it. Would you let me see it?” Her hands trailed a slow path down my chest, over my stomach, stopping to lift the hem of my shirt so she could trace them along the waist of my jeans.
It tickled, and I tensed as I grabbed her hands, wanting to stop the feather-light tickling.
But she just laughed and wrapped her fingers around my forearms, guided my arms to my stomach, and crossed my wrists. “You stay right there, handsome.”
I stared into those witchy eyes, captivated all over again, and she held my gaze, smiling.
I wasn’t sure what was happening. My mind was a foggy, mushy mess, and the lights above her looked like they were dissolving into her hair.
But then her hands drifted along the top of my jeans again, cold fingers slipping inside. I jerked and uncrossed my wrists so I could grab her wandering hands again.
I didn’t know what she was trying to do, but I didn’t like it. The room spun, and it was hard to keep track of what was happening. Where her hands were. Where my hands were.
“Don’t do that,” I told three of her.
That perfume was all I could smell now and it was suffocating me. My stomach muscles clenched as a sudden wave of nausea hit.
There were cold fingers on the nape of my neck, cold fingers digging into the waist of my jeans, and I tried to say stop but my mouth felt too fuzzy.
“No—” Heat spread across my chest as I leaned forward and threw up all over her shirt.
A shout broke through the loud music, angry words were thrown at me, and just as another wave of nausea had me doubling over, she shoved me back, screaming incoherent words at me.
The stool teetered, and I was suddenly dragged off my seat as two long arms banded around me and held me against a firm chest, anchoring me. Relief slammed through me when I recognized Lea’s voice, felt the vibration of it against my back as he spoke.
“Are you fucking kidding me?! Get the fuck out, you fucking creep! Shea, make sure she really leaves before I call the fucking cops.”
I was not prepared for how turned on an angry Lea would make me.
That sultry purr became hard as steel and just as implacable.
Lea’s wrath, and on my behalf, was the sexiest thing I’d ever experienced in my life.
Which, yes, the bar was low because the experience pool was practically empty, but still.
And then all horny thoughts disintegrated when an awful queasiness churned in my stomach, and I groaned.
“Shit. Do you need to throw up again?” Before I could even say a word, Lea lifted me into his arms bridal style. “Just hold on, baby.” He rushed us to the back of the bar—
I retched and slapped my hand over my mouth before anything could come out. God, I didn’t want to vomit on Lea, I would die of—
“Here, here, come on.” Lea set me on my feet but stayed right behind me, keeping an arm around my chest, holding me up.
Oh. We were in a bathroom stall.
Lea gently rubbed my back in soothing circles and murmured reassuring, quiet words in his soft, smoky voice.
I wasn’t sure how many times I threw up or how long we were in there, but by the time I was done, I could barely breathe or stand on my own, so wiped out that I told Lea multiple times to just leave me here, that he didn’t have to help me, that I was being a burden.
“Didn’t we just have this conversation? You’re not a burden, I thought we agreed on that. Come on, up we go.”
He hauled me to my feet, and I would’ve collapsed again if he didn’t pull my arm around his neck and hold me firmly against his side. I tipped my head and let it fall against his shoulder, placing my hand over his and clasping it hard against my body.
My fingers slotted themselves right in between his.
We walked slowly to the sink, where he helped me wash my face and hands, then guided me to the front of the house, back to the bar.
“Here, come sit. Logan, bring me a glass of water and a wet cloth.”
Something brushed against the top of my head—his lips?
—and then he was gently moving me onto a stool.
He leaned down and cupped my face in his beautiful hands, his eyes searching mine.
His expression was grim, and I’d never seen him so serious.
Angry and distraught at the same time. The fingers on his right hand crept up until he was brushing them back and forth over the fuzz of my shortest hairs.
Back and forth.
I closed my eyes, leaning into the touch.
“Can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?” His whispered words slid along my skin, fanning across my cheeks and soothing me.
I opened my eyes, swaying a little when there were two of Lea. Then the two became one, and those dark blue eyes were boring into mine with so much fear and concern my chest constricted. Why was he upset? “What happened?”
Lea closed his eyes, then opened them, those fingers still petting my buzzed hair.
His gaze flitted to his fingers, as if he was just realizing what he was doing, but he didn’t stop.
“Yes, Beau. What happened with that woman just now? Did she touch you when you didn’t want her to? After you told her to stop?”
A flash of pale blue caught in my memory, a stark contrast to Lea’s cobalt eyes, and I furrowed my brow. I couldn’t remember. “I don’t know?”
Lea patiently said, “Try to remember, darling. She had her hands on you when we walked up, and you told her to stop but she didn’t stop. Was that the worst that happened?”
“I think so?” I honestly couldn’t think with him this close to me. Touching me like this. I just wanted to close my eyes and fall into him.
Lea’s eyes slid shut again, his jaw tightening, like he was in pain. I reached up to trace a muscle that was jumping in his cheek, and he opened his eyes.
“Beau, I’m so, so sorry,” he said fiercely, his hands grasping either side of my face now, holding me still.
“I never wanted anything like this to happen. When we invited you down here, I thought—fuck, I’m so fucking sorry.
I should have been watching everything more carefully.
Instead I was—” He cut himself off and cursed under his breath.
All the heat in my body turned cold.
Seeing Lea this upset was making me upset, and I didn’t like seeing him like this. Didn’t like that it was my fault.
“I think I should go home,” I said quietly. I could hear myself slurring, was starting to feel dead tired now, and just wanted to be curled up under my covers to lie in my shame alone. The haze was finally clearing, those good feelings from before long gone.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll take you home,” he said. I wanted to argue, to tell him to not put himself out and I could get home on my own, that I was so, so sorry for making such a mess of everything, but…
Lea straightened up and lifted his arm to get someone’s attention, said, “Here,” then slid his fingers under my chin, tilting my head just a little. Just enough to meet his eyes. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay, Beau.” It felt like he was trying to convince himself as much as me.
His gaze cut to something behind me, then he reached around my shoulder and came back with a glass of water in his hand. “Drink this. All of it,” he said, and I grabbed the glass. Fumbled it when the slick condensation made my fingers slide off, but Lea caught it and tilted it toward my lips.
I drank as much as I could. Some of it ran down my chin and soaked into the front of my shirt, but I didn’t care. The cool water felt good, my mouth had been too dry, and I drank until it was all gone.
“Good boy,” said Lea with a warmth in his tone that wedged its way into my chest and settled there. He took the empty glass and set it on the bar behind me, then wiped my mouth and neck with a wet cloth.
It felt nice.
“You’re okay,” he whispered. His eyes were riveted to my mouth, my cheeks, my chin, my throat, as he tenderly cleaned me up.
He was so beautiful. Had I ever been this close to him before? My gaze roved over his features, those wickedly arched brows drawn together in concern, the pink hairs curling slightly over his temple, the tiny scar next to his left eye.
“Lea,” I rasped. I reached up to touch him, to drag my finger along one of those gorgeous cheekbones, when Shea jogged up to us wearing a fierce expression.
“Are you okay? She didn’t hurt you, did she?” Lea stepped back as my brother took in every inch of me.
I shook my head. I couldn’t even remember who they were talking about. “I’m fine,” I mumbled.
Shea looked at Lea. “She’s gone. I followed her to her car, took pictures of her plates before she could drive off. Just in case. And we’ve got the feed.”
Lea nodded. “Good. I’m gonna take him home. Can you let Monroe know what happened?”
Shea hesitated, his mouth opening and closing, his eyes flashing between me and Lea. “I think I should—”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll go with Lea.” The last person I wanted to be with was my overprotective brother.
Shea’s jaw hardened, then his shoulders slumped in resignation. Before I could stop him, he grabbed the nape of my neck and gave me a hard kiss on the forehead. “Be safe. And drink a lot of water before you go to sleep,” he said.
Then he walked away.
“Come on, Beau. Let’s get you home.” I let Lea haul me to my feet, let him wrap his arm around my waist, let him lead me outside.
He let me rest my head on his shoulder, and I wondered what it would be like if I could have this every day.