Page 2 of Under Fyre

Obviously her curiosity is too great for her to bear. As I turn to push the door closed, she already has one paw inside the room.

The side of my mouth curls up.

I can’t fault her fascination. It’s only been the two of us for years now. The day I carried Charlotte into the house, Arrow sniffed her way up and down the hall, her eyes big enough to fall out of their sockets as she investigated the scent of a new human.

“You won’t meet her today,” I murmur quietly. “Get out.”

Arrow retreats into the hall and plants her butt in the middle of the floor.

I glance around the room, and my stomach tightens when I don’t see Charlotte in the bed.

I turn to look toward the en-suite bathroom’s door when a book slams into the side of my head.

It isn’t exactly War and Peace so it barely hurts, but I’m still caught off guard.

The tray of food drops to the carpet.

Arrow lets out a gruff bark from outside.

I slam the door closed behind me with one hand while I grab hold of Charlotte’s thick, dark hair in the other.

Her gasp of pain when I slam her into the wall beside the door is both satisfying and unsettling.

Did I hurt her?

Is shebleeding?

I crowd her against the pinstripe wallpaper, my free hand delving into her hair to feel for wetness.

Now that I’m so close to her again, my cock has started paying attention. I try and push back, to get away from the feel of her trapped body, but I’m locked in place by a sudden, desperate need to be inside her.

“I spent precious time making you that breakfast,” I tell her, putting my mouth close to her ear.

She’s panting, but whether in fear or exertion I can’t be sure. That sound is making it difficult to think with my brain.

Letting out a low growl that I feel as much as hear, I step back and drag her away from the wall, using that same grip to shove her onto the bed. She scrambles away, huddling into a ball by the headboard, her arms wrapped around her legs.

She’s waiting to see what I’ll do. Howbadthis is going to get.

I glance at the food on the floor. Eggs, toast, bacon. There was even a bowl of cereal and a small milk box. When I look back at her, she quivers like a whipped dog.

Fear.

It’s eaten its way into her psyche like acid. The damage is extensive, but it’s not permanent.

I’ll never lose a patient to fear again.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you.”

Charlotte’s face goes slack, her sea-green eyes widening with confusion.

Crouching, keeping my eyes on her as much as possible in case she decides to attack me again, I scoop the food back onto the tray. I toss the carton of milk onto the bottom corner of the bed and then leave, locking the door behind me.

I stand facing the door, listening, but I don’t hear movement from inside.

I FOUND GOD IN HER PRETTY EYES

Arrow is on her paws, tail swishing, tongue lolling out of her mouth.

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