Zeke(31)

“Yes. And the rest of my brain is telling me that what I’m seeing is actually worthy of its beauty. When I’m around you, I feel so alive,” I say, free from his watchful eyes. I brush my knuckles along the soft whiskers on his chin. “I feel content,” I palm his face, “and I feel safe.”

His eyes snap open. “You shouldn’t feel safe.”

“Why?”

“Because what you think you see when you look at me, that so-called beautiful, destroys anything it touches.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I told you before,” he grabs my hand and pulls it away from his face, “don’t go fallin’ for me, Lurlene. I’m not that guy, and I never will be.”

“I don’t want you to be that guy.”

“No?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No.” I rest my head on the pillow. “I want you to be you, Zeke Declan. I’ve gotten to know him a little over the past few weeks, and I like him. He’s funny, he’s strong, he’s dedicated, and he’s also scared.”

“Scared?”

“Yes. You’re afraid of me,” I say, and the epiphany strikes me hard. He’s afraid to get too close to me; that could be the only reason why he’s been holding back. The attraction’s there, sparks fly when we touch, kiss ... hell, just being in the same room is like the Fourth of July. He has to feel it too. I know he does.

He leans toward me, wraps his hand around my neck, and pulls me close to his face. “I’m not afraid of you.”

I glance at his tempting mouth and pull my brave out. “Then why haven’t you fucked me yet?”

He gazes down into my eyes and my insides light up. “Is that what you want?”

“No,” I say, bravery weaning, “but it still makes me wonder why you haven’t tried.”

He kisses me, not long and slow, just a soft, short press of the lips, and then he laughs. “What am I going to do with you?” He nuzzles my nose.

“Hmm ... I’m lying in bed, inches away from you, and you don’t know what to do with me?”

“Like you said, Addy is in the next room, and believe me, this is the safest you’ll ever be this close to me.” He lowers my head back to the pillow. “Now, roll over and go to sleep.”

“If I do,” I grin up at him, “will you hold me?”

“If that is what you want, yes. But I gotta warn ya, when I press against you, you’re going to feel how my body reacts to your ‘beautiful,’ and you’ll find no need to question whether or not I want to fuck you.”

“So you want to fuck me?” I grin again up at him.

“Roll over,” he sternly says, and I laugh but obey. He wraps his arm around me and pulls my body against his.

“Ow,” I wiggle my ass, feeling his erection. “Impressive,” I tease.

His arm tightens around me. “Go to sleep, Lurlene,” he growls into my ear.

Rule number three, broken.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN





My body hits the linoleum. My back recoils from the sharp splinters of pain and fear that spikes through me. I try to sit up, place my palms on the cool floor, and push my heels. My socks skid on the surface. I can’t get a grip on the slippery floor. Face beet red and scary as ever, the monster bends down over me. I scramble to get away. My heart beats hard in my naked chest. His large hand stretches out and grabs my shoulder.

“Stay still,” he grunts, perspiration dripping from his forehead. I feel a bead of his violence drip onto my face.

His fingers, like sharp claws, dig deeper into my flesh.

“Fuck you,” I scream, knowing those are the worst two words in the world you can say to anyone. Slate got his mouth washed out with soap for saying them to Jax. I think Dad would be okay with me saying them to this monster, though. I wish Dad were here right now.

But he’s not. I’m all alone here. It’s just me.

Lightning, I need to be like lightning.

“It’s going to hurt more if you fight me,” the monster says as he reaches for my boxers.

“What are you doin’?” I try to push his hand away, struggling to break free.

He’s strong, though. His fingers spear deeper into my shoulder. His big, hard body lands on me, and I feel something, something I don’t want to feel. I lift my hand, and with everything that I have, I strike him under the chin with the pad of my small hand. His body arches, and I lift my knee, making direct contact in the very place that I didn’t want to feel against me. I knee him again and again in the balls. His body retreats with a loud groan.

His guard down, I grab his bent head and lay my body into my hands. I smash his face into the hard linoleum floor. I struggle to my feet. He rolls over onto his back. Ready to bolt, I lift my foot, but before I take my first step, he grabs my ankle ...