Chapter 9
Malcolm
I’m normally in bed around this time, yet I can’t fall asleep.
My mind is stuck on the hug with June. We shared physical contact multiple times tonight and I wasn’t tempted to go further.
No inappropriate thoughts entered my brain as we watched TV while we ate. After she told me about the break-in, all I wanted to do was comfort her and keep her safe.
The hug almost threw me off track. Inhaling her sweet scent, her soft body in my arms, her lips brushing my skin as she pressed her face to my neck. I was hard in seconds and ready to make a huge mistake. It’s a good thing she pulled away before I did.
Stop thinking about her and go the fuck to sleep.
I focus on my breathing. Less than ten seconds later, I’m focused on the floor instead. It’s hard despite the carpet and I’m going to feel it in the morning.
I keep up with my physical training but sleeping wrong at my age still comes with punishment. Better here than June’s loveseat. That thing felt like lying on a child’s bed.
My mind drifts to June again, like a magnet finding true north. I hated seeing the fear on her face tonight. Rage burned inside me when I first found out that some fucker broke into her home. It’s colder now, though it’s still alive.
Fucking bastard. I’m going to make him suffer if I ever get my hands on him before the police does.
Come on. Sleep, goddammit.
If I want to make it to work on time, I have to get up before dawn. I need all the sleep I can get. I turn onto my side and try to clear my mind. The seconds tick on and on, and I become aware of another reason why I’m still fucking awake. I want to pee.
Fuck no.
I’m not getting up.
I can hold it.
A few more minutes pass, then I reluctantly stand and head to the bathroom.
I’m returning to my makeshift bed when I notice faint light through the gap in June’s bedroom door.
We said good night to each other over an hour ago after she handed me a spare pillow and sheet. Is she still awake?
Maybe she can’t fall asleep because she’s still afraid the intruder might return. I’ll try to ease her mind if that’s the case. I step closer to her door and gently knock it.
“June?”
No answer. She doesn’t respond when I call her name a little louder either. She’s probably sleeping after all.
I linger outside her door. I want to make sure she’s OK and to reassure her if she isn’t. But if she’s awake and couldn’t hear my call for some reason, it might upset her if I strode into her bedroom uninvited. After a brief inner debate, I widen the gap and enter her room.
A lit glass ball sits on a circular wooden base on June’s bedside drawer, easing the darkness with low amber light. June is lying on her side, her eyes closed, and her hair in a black, silken head wrap.
A tower fan blows cool air at her, but she has one leg poked out from under the sheet. She must have changed her bed linens. They’re a different colour than what I saw earlier tonight.
Yep, she’s asleep.
Alright. I’ve confirmed she’s not wide awake with fear, now it’s time for me to go. I don’t move. I stare at her, then I’m compelled to move closer for a better look at her, my steps silent. I stand beside the bed, looking down at my sleeping beauty.
My longest relationship lasted seven years, most of which I thought I was in love. Those feelings were weak compared to how I feel about June and we just reconnected two days ago.
From the moment she showed up, an insane craving for her crawls under my skin, constantly begging me to sate it when I’m around her. And when she’s not physically close, thoughts of her hijack my mind.
If the devil were to appear right now and ask me for my soul to have her, I’d accept the trade without a second thought.
I’ve never felt this way about a woman. I don’t understand why she has this effect on me, despite our close relationship.
Is it because of the fire? We shared a bond when both of our lives were in jeopardy, but time and distance changed it. Corrupted it.
I still remember her faint cries for help over the crackling fire and the groans from the collapsing house. The heat and smoke were so intense, I was afraid I wouldn’t make it to her.
Somehow, I did. I pulled her shuddering body into my arms, and she wrapped her skinny arms around my neck so tight, she nearly suffocated me worse than the smoke.
We almost didn’t make it when I carried her back up the basement stairs. The fire had blocked our path to the back door. I had to run through it like I was in an action movie. It’s a miracle June wasn’t harmed, and I only suffered second-degree burns on my forearm.
My gaze lingers on her face. When she’s awake, her amber eyes hold me hostage and her lips curve into the prettiest smile for me. When she’s asleep, her delicate features are serene, her smooth skin inviting me to touch it. My hand is almost at her cheek before I yank it back.
“I need to get the hell out of here,” I say under my breath.
As I’m searching for the switch to turn off the lamp, my gaze sweeps over the glass of water and a small, white medicine bottle beside it on the drawer. The bottle grabs my attention. I pick it up to read the label.
Prescription sleeping pills. She suffers sleeping problems often if she has these. I was right. She was too worried about the intruder to fall asleep. Poor thing had to take a sleeping pill. I doubt she would’ve taken one if I’d left. She would’ve been up all night.
I turn the bottle in my hand and read the dosage. I’ve taken something similar while I served. If it’s like what I experienced, she’s much deeper in sleep than normal.
It’ll take some serious effort to wake her. I hated taking them for that reason. It made me feel too vulnerable.
A thought creeps out from the darkest corner of my mind, slow and careful, like it knows it shouldn’t exist.
She’s so deep in sleep, she’ll never know that I touched her.
She’ll never know if I did more than that...
The pills rattle as I quickly set down the bottle on the bedside drawer. I back away from June’s bed like I’m a demon repelled by a spell that wards off evil. That’s what I am for thinking something so fucked up.
Jesus fucking Christ! Get out of her room!
I’m almost at her bedroom door when I stop, my hands clenched at my sides.
She’ll never know.
The words loop in my brain, attacking my morals. Sickening rationalizations take root. Yesterday, I thought I could get rid of my wrong feelings for June by getting laid. Today, I convinced myself distance would work too.
What if the best solution is to give in to temptation?
Just a little bit. A little taste. Then I’ll be satisfied and my unhealthy obsession will be gone for good. And there’s no better time than now. She’s unaware and can’t reject me. No risk of ruining our relationship either.
She’ll never know.
Self-control is a muscle. Using it is exercise and that makes it stronger. Like any workout, one can overdo it. Put too much stress on that muscle, work it too hard too fast, and it stops working properly.
My self-control has been overworked because of June. All weekend, it’s been one fight after the next to resist bad thoughts and be a good guy. Her hero who always come to her rescue.
She welcomed me into her home, unaware of my dark urges for her, then went to bed tonight thinking I’m safety from danger.
I turn and approach her bed, pausing where I stood a moment ago. My conscience fought hard these past few days like a good soldier, but it finally loses the fight against lust.
I take a seat on June’s bed and caress her cheek with the backs of my fingers.
“No, sweetheart,” I say softly. “I’m the danger too.”