Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Lola
A fter he kisses me stupid, he orders me to take a shower.
I do, still in somewhat of a haze.
I have no idea what’s going on or what set him off, but I’m glad his anger doesn’t seem to be aimed at me.
I pause, turning off the water when it starts to run cold.
His anger made me wary enough to take a step back, but that was more instinctual than anything else.
There's some part of my brain that truly believes Hannibal won’t hurt me. Does that make me insane? Maybe. He hasn’t hurt me yet, and as the days go by, I feel myself thawing toward him a little more. Some fucking ice queen I am. I try to shore up my defenses, knowing my heart can’t take any more knocks. But when he walks in a few minutes later with a large fluffy towel and lifts me out of the shower, not giving a single shit that I’m getting him wet, I realize this man is dangerous to me on a whole other level.
I stand there mute as he dries me off, taking his time, like he doesn’t have to meet the guys later and hash shit out. He looks up at me from his crouched position, a crackle of awareness buzzing in the air between us.
My kiddo chooses that moment to kick me, a little fluttering that makes my stomach ripple. A look of rapture passes across Hannibal’s face as his rough hands slide over my growing bump.
“You feeling a little left out, Bubba?” His voice rumbles and when the baby kicks him again, he grins.
“He really does like your voice.”
“Good.” He presses his lips to my stomach. I gasp and warmth envelops my heart. Oh yeah, this man is dangerous in ways that I’ll never recover from.
“Hannibal?”
Something in my voice must give away my turmoil because he looks up from my bump with a serious expression on his face.
“Don’t hurt me, okay?”
“I told you I wouldn’t lay a hand on you in anger, and I meant it.”
“No, I know. I know you won’t hurt me with your hands.”
He stands up and crowds me, tipping my head back so there's no escaping his gaze.
“I don’t plan on hurting your heart either, doll. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, so I’m bound to fuck up sometimes. But you’ve gotta call me on it.”
I bite my lip, unsure.
What if I piss him off, and he loses his temper?
What if?—
He kisses me again, snapping me out of my thoughts before pulling back.
“It’s gonna take time, I know that. But that’s okay because we have all the time in the world. You’re stuck with me now.”
“I should be terrified. I’ve heard how you like to break your toys.”
“But you aren’t scared, are you? Not just because you know I won’t hurt you, but because you know I’ll snap the neck of anyone who tries to.”
I stare into his eyes as a shiver works its way up my spine.
He tugs his T-shirt over his head before slipping it over mine and helping me guide my arms through.
“I like you in my clothes,” he growls before leading me to the bedroom.
I sit on the edge of the bed as he walks to the dresser and stares at the mess.
“Were you looking for something?”
“Yeah, pieces of you. And I’ll be honest, I couldn’t find them anywhere.” He kneels in front of me and slides a pair of pink fluffy bed socks over my feet.
“I don’t know how you lived here and never left a mark.”
“Because I didn’t really live here, Hannibal. I haunted the place, trapped like some vengeful spirit with no way out. And I’ve proven that by ending up back here all over again.”
He rests his hands on my knees as he looks up at me.
“I thought being back where things are familiar might have been a good idea, but I can see I was wrong.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
He’s right, of course, but I’m not sure I’m ready to cut myself and spill my guts just yet.
Coming back here is like coming back to the scene of a crime.
It feels morbid and intrusive.
“We’re going to get Khan’s house fixed up to suit our needs and move in there. Staying here will only be temporary. Can you handle it for a little while?”
I want to say no.
I’d rather sleep in the car or with the dogs again, but he’s unlikely to agree with that option.
“I’ll be okay,” I lie.
I won’t be okay. My nightmares will start back up again, I’m sure.
But staying here for a few weeks isn’t the hardest thing I’ve had to endure.
He gets to his feet and tugs me to mine.
“If it were just us, I’d book us into a hotel. But with Millie coming…” His voice tapers off, but I get what he’s saying.
His daughter needs a room, and right now, her needs are more important than mine.
Funny enough, I find it comforting knowing he’s putting his child first, even though the kid terrifies the hell out of him.
“It’s the right thing to do. And this whole thing is going to be hard enough on Millie as it is. I don’t want to make it any harder on her than it needs to be.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You’re gonna be a good mama.”
I swallow hard.
“I don’t know about that. I’ve not exactly had one to look up to, but I’m gonna try.”
Taking my hand, he tugs me after him as he leads me out of the room.
“I’m going to feed you, then fuck you, then let you get some rest while I talk to the guys.”
I bite my lip, feeling my lip twitch at his words.
“You okay with that?” he questions, looking over his shoulder.
I nod, feeling kind of shy.
He takes in my blush and curses.
“Fuck me, you’re beautiful.”
He chuckles when I dip my head and continues leading me downstairs, this time to the kitchen.
I pause in the doorway, seeing the empty beer bottle on the counter.
My heart speeds up as an assortment of memories threaten to rise up and swallow me whole.
I shake my head, refusing to give Driller any more power over me.
If I can let go of Havoc, someone I loved, then I can sure as shit let go of the man I hate.
“You good?”
I didn’t realize Hannibal had stopped when I did.
He studies my face so I slap on a grin.
I’m not sure he’s buying it, but he doesn’t call me on it, thankfully.
Instead, he swoops me up and sits me on the counter.
I gasp as the cold tile hits my bare ass.
“This is so not hygienic. At least let me put underwear on.”
He spreads my legs and steps between the cradle of my thighs.
He drags his fingers up my leg, over my knee, and along my thigh before he slides them down toward where I need them most.
“I like you bare for me—means I can play with you whenever I want.” He punctuates his words by circling my clit with his thumb.
“You like that?”
When I don’t answer, his fingers slip lower until they are sliding through my wetness.
“Oh yeah, you like that.”
He uses his now wet fingers to play with my clit once more.
I grip the edge of the island and let my head fall back with a soft groan.
“Lean back on your elbows for me.”
I don’t hesitate to do as he asks.
He spreads my legs wider, lifting them so each foot rests on the edge of the counter.
Dipping his head, he takes a deep breath.
“You smell fucking delicious.”
Before I can say or do anything, his mouth is on my pussy, hot and demanding as he sucks and licks me into a frenzy.
“I’ll never get tired of your taste. A man could get drunk on the essence of you.”
He slips two fingers inside me as he starts lashing my clit with the tip of his tongue.
I shake my head from side to side, the sensation overwhelming as I feel the heat clawing away inside of me, demanding its release.
When my legs start to shake, he wraps his arms around my thighs and yanks me closer to his mouth.
I fight to hold on, even though I’m already teetering on the edge of orgasm.
I don’t want it to end.
I want to stay in this moment forever, where nobody exists but us two.
But then he grazes my clit with his teeth.
The sweet, sharp edge of pain throws me over the edge of oblivion, earning him a hoarse cry of pleasure as I come all over his tongue.
A series of aftershocks wreck my body as I come down from my high, the feeling of euphoria waning as he drinks me down.
He lifts his head. “Now that I’m fed, let me feed you.”
Too boneless to argue, I let him help me sit up as he moves to the fridge.
Finding it mostly empty, barring a few condiments and some brown substance that once identified as lettuce, he closes the door with a huff before moving to the cupboards.
He gets tenser the more cupboards he opens.
Eventually, he turns to me.
“You need to start locking the door. Someone’s been coming and helping themselves while you’ve been gone.”
When I don’t say anything, he frowns before the penny drops.
“Nobody has been here, have they?”
“Other than Driller, I can’t say for sure, but I doubt it.”
He huffs out a laugh, but it sounds anything but amused.
“I was standing here, thinking people were dicks for not at least picking up the basics for the fridge, knowing we were coming. I didn’t expect to find the cupboards bare too, except for a few cans of soup.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” I refuse to be embarrassed, knowing I had no control over the situation.
He stalks back over to me.
“This is why you’re so thin.” It’s a statement, not a question.
I reply anyway. “I’m not worried about my weight, if that’s what you were thinking.”
He smooths his fingers down my face softly, even though I can feel the hum of anger buzzing underneath his skin.
“Never again, Lola. It fucking guts me that nobody bothered to check in with you. And don’t try to tell me they did. I know that’s not true.”
He runs his fingers through his hair before he comes to a decision.
Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he hands it to me.
“The Code is 6754. Find a restaurant nearby, pick what you want, and we’ll order in. If you write me a shopping list, I’ll send one of the prospects out to grab it all.”
I feel my eyes getting wet.
I’m being stupid. It’s only food, after all.
But saying that comes from a place of privilege.
Being starved does more than physically hurt you.
It’s mental warfare, too.
All you can think about is food.
All you can see is food.
You get to the point where you’re convinced you even smell it, as if food had been placed down right in front of you.
“What do you want?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll eat anything.” And the smirk he gives me makes me wonder about the rumors surrounding his name.
“I want you to choose—order whatever takes your fancy. Hell, order the whole restaurant if you want. That way, you’ll have leftovers if you get hungry later.”
Before it’s even a conscious effort, I wrap my hand around his neck and tug him down to me so I can kiss him.
I rarely initiate anything between us, sometimes finding it hard to let go of the resentment over my situation.
But then he keeps doing things for me, sweet things that batter at the protective wall I’ve built around myself.
He doesn’t hesitate to return the kiss, his hands moving to my hips as he yanks me closer.
The movement reminds me of where I’m sitting and what’s leaking out of me.
I pull away and sigh.
“I really need to clean this kitchen before I can even think about food.”
“Stubborn.” He lifts me off the counter, laughing when I grumble at the feel of his cum running down my thighs.
“You clean the kitchen. I’ll clean myself up,” I call over my shoulder as I waddle to the bathroom to the sound of his laughter.
I quickly pee and freshen up before washing my hands and heading back to the kitchen.
I hear him talking as I approach and realize he’s on the phone so I stay quiet.
“It’ll be about an hour. No, they can carry on partying tonight, but tomorrow they better have their shit sorted because I’m not Khan.”
He listens for a second as I walk in, not wanting him to think I’m standing in the hallway, eavesdropping on him.
He motions for me to move into the crock of his arm as he finishes up the call.
“Well, this is not my problem now. Is it, Byte?”
He hangs up before handing me the phone once more.
“Order food.”
“Bossy.”
“President,” he reminds me with a wink before he nudges me out of the room.
I curl up on the sofa and scroll through my options before settling on Chinese.
The pizza place nearby is gross, and the Chinese reheats well the next day.
I order a bunch of things for us both, figuring he might want to eat before he leaves, and place his phone on the coffee table.
I lean back and listen to him moving around the kitchen, cleaning the counters just because I asked.
All this time, I’ve been reading about fictional men, wishing they existed in real life.
Now I can’t help but wonder if I might have discovered the unicorn of men after all.