Chapter 5
Five
June
I’m trembling. Granted, I’m so fucking tired, I’m about to collapse. That could be why, but I suspect it has more to do with the man who has taken over my life and just kissed me.
He kissed me.
And I liked it.
He’s so bossy and domineering, yet he brought his lips in slow enough to give me the chance to stop him.
Wait… Did he say he was going to wash me?
I slap my forehead with my good hand and groan. And I agreed. I have several screws loose. Not that I care if the man sees me naked or washes me. I’m a grown adult. There’s no reason to be a prude. But I’m a mess. There are bruises all over me. Cuts and scrapes, too.
My hair is desperate for a wash, though. There’s no way in hell I can do it myself. I can’t imagine when in the future I might be able to do so. How long do casts stay on? Six weeks?
Obviously, I will have more use of my fingers before then and be able to lift my arm up and rub my scalp, but not today. Not tomorrow. Or even this week probably.
I flinch when he rushes back into the room.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you, honey.” He holds up a plastic grocery bag triumphantly. In his other hand, he has a rubber band. “I bet we can make this work.”
He sets his supplies on the counter, turns on the water in the tub, and squats in front of me to remove my shoes. I’m not even wearing socks because how would I have gotten them on?
“We should get you some flip flops.”
I purse my lips.
He lifts his gaze. “What? You don’t like flip flops?”
I shrug. “They’re fine. For other people. I do have some, but I’m clumsy, and I tend to trip over myself when I’m wearing shoes that require so much effort on the part of my toes to keep them on.”
He laughs. “Okay. No flip flops. We don’t need you tripping. Should I order some bubble wrap?”
“If you don’t want me to break my other arm, probably. Barefoot is usually my best option.”
He lifts my foot. “You have adorable feet, so I might end up tripping from watching them skip around the apartment.”
“Skip?” I shake my head. “I don’t see that happening either.”
His chuckle is unbelievably sexy. Every time he graces me with that sound, my heart rate picks up. Why do I get the feeling he doesn’t laugh often, yet he’s done so several times this morning?
Which reminds me. This man has a lot going on today, too. I almost forgot. “Sorry about your SUV.”
He shrugs. “It was just a car. Someone is ordering me a new one as we speak. I’m just grateful no one was in it or nearby.”
“Me, too. It was meant to kill us, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Or Simone at least. Those assholes were willing to go to great lengths to eliminate the two of you being able to identify their comrade. Idiots. Now they’re all going to prison.”
I met Simone yesterday at the police station. Apparently, she had been attacked by the same man over a week ago. She arrived to identify our assailant with her boyfriend, Professor Camden Arnalt. I took several of his classes when I was in college—odd coincidence.
I sigh. “And you don’t think we’ll have to testify?”
“Doubt it. The state has plenty of evidence. After what happened yesterday, I don’t think they’ll risk your lives again. If they do need you, there are measures we can take to minimize the threat level. But there’s no need to worry about any of that now. It will be a long time before the trial.”
“Okay.”
Blade strokes my cheek. “I’m going to take your clothes off. I promise I don’t have an ulterior motive this morning. I want you to feel better. That’s it. Okay?”
“You say that like you’re warning me that the lack of ulterior motive is temporary.” I certainly hope so, as batshit as my thoughts are right now. I only met Blade yesterday.
He grins. “Oh, it’s definitely temporary. I suppose I should have worded that better. I have all kinds of ulterior motives, but I won’t act on any of them today. How’s that?”
I sigh dramatically. “Kind of disappointing, actually.” I do not know this bold version of myself. When did I last flirt with a man like this? If I ever did, it was ten years ago.
He growls. The tone startles me and makes my nipples hard. I like that sound. He’s a feral animal out for prey. I’m not sad about this unlikely development.
Blade drops onto his knees between my legs, plants his hands on either side of me, and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. “June…”
I affect him. It’s heady. I don’t think any man has ever reacted this strongly to me. Pete might have pretended to be hot for me in the beginning, but it was all part of his ploy to get me under his thumb. It wasn’t real.
I was raised in an abusive household, and I fully understand that it shaped me and made me more at risk of carrying on the cycle. I couldn’t recognize it for what it was until I got out, though.
I’m sure my father pretended to wine and dine my mother in the beginning, the same way Pete did with me. Once he’d taken over my life, I was trapped. Isolated. Jobless. His servant.
Pete fucked me, but there was no romance. It did nothing for me. He didn’t see to my needs. He made me feel like I wasn’t capable of even having needs. Maybe I’m not.
Except I feel things with Blade. I’ve never felt half of what he’s made me feel several times, and we’ve known each other for less than a day. I’m tired and hungry and broken. But I am alive.
There’s a flutter in my stomach I’ve never experienced. Maybe I felt a twinge of it with Pete and I just don’t remember. It was six years ago. I must have felt something, but it died a quick death.
I haven’t cared. I’ve been reclusive for three years, hiding in my apartment, enjoying the fact that I felt safe.
Ha. I’m not safe any longer. Except maybe I am.
No one is going to get to me in this fortress.
I noticed the elevator doesn’t go to the other floors.
I couldn’t have gotten into the elevator for these top two floors without the help of the very kind man at the front desk in the lobby.
For the first time I can remember, I’m a sexual being.
I never believed I was the dead fish Pete accused me of being.
I knew the reason I was never wet for him was his fault.
But words do damage, and his did enough to keep me from leaving my apartment to find another man I could spread my legs for. The idea actually made me sick.
Until today.
Blade finally opens his eyes as if he needed to compose himself before he could face me again. I could be mistaken and misreading the situation, but the idea makes me feel powerful.
“I’m going to give you a bath, June. I can’t pretend I won’t be affected by your body, but I can promise I won’t act on it. Not today.”
I nod.
He rises and helps me stand. “You have to be hot in this sweatshirt.” He grabs the hem and lifts it over my head before I can say a word.
“I…”
He isn’t moving, and I tip my head back to find him staring at my chest. He’s not breathing. My sweatshirt is fisted in his hand.
I lick my lips and finish my lame explanation, “I couldn’t figure out how to put a bra on. This was the only thing I could think to wear to keep that from being obvious to everyone in your office. Plus, the sleeves were loose enough to fit over my cast.”
He swallows as his gaze lifts to my eyes.
Perhaps I should be offended by his stare, but I’m not. I feel sexy. And I like it.
He drops my sweatshirt onto the floor, though I’m not sure he’s aware of his actions.
It’s immediately forgotten. His hand comes to my cheek, and he strokes with his thumb.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. I’m glad you chose this sweatshirt.
I might have had to blindfold my men if you’d been wearing something revealing.
I had no idea I had such a jealous streak, but apparently so. ”
I bite my bottom lip, trying not to react. His voice is deep. It makes my nipples pucker, and I’m pretty damn sure my panties are wet. For the first time since he mentioned undressing me, I’m a bit embarrassed. He’s going to find out how wet I am in a minute.
Blade shivers as he drops to his knees and hooks his fingers in the waistband of my yoga pants, capturing the elastic of my panties at the same time.
I try to remember what panties I’m wearing, but it really doesn’t matter.
I don’t own anything sexy. All my panties are plain cotton briefs.
White. I don’t even have colored ones. If I’d been wearing a bra, it probably would have mortified me for him to see it because my bras are all plain and boring, too.
I grab Blade’s shoulders as he lowers the rest of my clothes down my body, wincing when I glance down. Yeah, I’m lame. “Sorry. I don’t…” I purse my lips.
“You don’t what, honey?”
My face heats. “Own anything sexy,” I mutter.
“Oh, sweet girl…”
I’m completely humiliated when he separates my panties from my yoga pants and brings them to his chest as if they’re…precious?
His eyes meet mine again. “There is nothing sexier than a Little in white cotton panties.”
“You keep using that word like it’s a noun.”
“Little?” He chuckles. “I’ll explain that later.”
“You’ve said that, too.” If I’m supposed to understand, I don’t.
He nods. “Later, honey.” He drops my panties next to my pants, grabs my hips, and kisses my belly. It’s so intimate and unexpected. “God, you smell good.”
I can’t possibly smell good. I left my apartment in a frenzy without taking a shower. Not that I could have managed such a thing.
Blade stands, grabs the plastic bag from the counter, and eases it over my cast, securing it with the rubber band below my elbow. “Too tight?”
I shake my head. “I think it’s okay.”
Blade steps around the side of the doorless glass shower, picks up several bottles—I assume they are shampoo, conditioner, and body soap—and deposits them on the edge of the bathtub.