Page 26 of The Silent Mate

Stepping back, I studied my naked reflection in the mirror. Some wicked, needy part of me considered what might happen if I returned to the bedroom like this, in my barest yet most powerful form. Would the thin thread of Malik’s control snap? Would he turn away in disgust?

I blinked and shook my head, ridding myself of those thoughts. I’d promised not to touch him. I wouldn’t risk his tentative trust with such antics, no matter how much every base, primal instinct begged to be claimed by him. I could be patient. Ihadto be.

But I also needed fresh clothing.

Taking a deep breath, I padded toward the door and cracked it open just enough to peek my head through, careful to keep my naked body hidden. “Uh, Malik?”

He looked up from where he now sat at the edge of the bed, head bowed low and knees resting on his elbows. Like a bruised and battered warrior who’d returned from a lifetime of war.

My top teeth dragged on my bottom lip. “I don’t have any pajamas. Do you have a t-shirt I can wear?”

Malik’s good eye trailed from my face to my exposed neck and bare shoulder, and I saw the moment he realized I was naked behind the door. The black of his eye expanded until only a sliver of gray remained.

Slowly, he stood, every long muscle stretching until hereached his full height. With the grace of a predator, he stalked to the closet and returned a moment later with a bundle of white fabric in one hand.

As he drew closer, I noticed the way a muscle in his jaw quivered when he extended the t-shirt for me. I took it, and electricity pulsed where my fingers grazed his, shooting straight to my core. Familiar heat flared between my legs.

A blush flamed my cheeks, and I clamped my legs together to keep the scent of my arousal from reaching him before I shut the door.Moon Goddess!We’d barely even touched!

Rather than immediately dress, I clamped my eyes shut and took deep, measured breaths until my heart rate declined. I felt betrayed by my body, which clearly had a mind of its own.

Finally, I slid the huge white tee over my head and slipped my arms in the sleeves. The hem reached the middle of my thighs, so I deemed it safe enough to wear to bed, even without panties or a bra. After slathering a healthy amount of lotion onto my legs and arms in an effort to conceal the remnants of my sex-crazed scent, I crept out of the bathroom once more.

Malik sat on the bed again. This time, however, he didn’t have to look up to meet my gaze. I wondered if he’d been staring, unable to look away from the moment I shut the door in his face.

Mustering my courage, I approached the bed.

His nostrils flared, chest expanding. Then, with rigid control, he rose from the mattress and took my place in the bathroom, leaving a wide berth between us as he passed.

I slipped beneath the covers, blood pounding between my ears and adrenaline coursing through my veins. We’d slept side by side last night, of course, but this felt different. I hadn’t fallen asleep with him beside me. In fact, I had no idea he’d come to bed until I woke up in his arms the next morning.

The shower turned on inside the bathroom, and I focused on my breathing. On the soft caress of silken sheets against my bare legs. On the delicious scent of tobacco and mint that coated every inch of my pillow. Anything to keep myself from imagining his naked body, just a few paces and a wall away.

I didn’t know how much time had passed by the time the water stopped running and Malik finished inside the bathroom. Every modicum of my being focused on his steady movements on the other side of the door. On his heady scent and the strong beat of his heart.

When he emerged, he hesitated, lingering by the door. He wore a pair of sweatpants that hung low, accentuating the cuts of muscle on his hips. Dark hair sprouted below his navel, disappearing beneath the waistline to join the substantial bulge at his inseam.

I sat upright in bed and kept the silken sheets covering my hips.

“Malik?” I prompted, my voice a hopeful whisper.

His throat bobbed, the mass of scar tissue rising and falling along with the knob of his ruined voice box. At last, he took a step toward me. Then another. And another.

As if he was a frightened animal in the woods, I made certain not to move and scare him away. Eventually, he slipped beneath the covers, and his warmth radiated toward me from across the bed.

A small, triumphant smile curled on my lips as I slowly leaned back against my pillow again. Silence, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, settled over the bedroom. Only our shallow breathing filled the space around us.

“Thank you,” I murmured, forcing myself to keep my eyes on the ceiling above. “For coming to bed with me.”

He shifted beside me, the mattress sinking beneath his heavy weight. I held my breath as he moved closer, and it sweptout of my lungs the moment his fingers brushed a rogue strand of hair away from my brow.

I allowed my eyes to find his in the dark.

He was close. Far closer than I’d realized. Only a sliver of space separated our bodies, and I longed to bridge that gap. Longed to stroke his disheveled hair and offer him a fraction of the pleasure that he gave me.

“Malik,” I choked out his name, and I swore I heard his ragged intake of breath at the sound of it on my lips. “I’d like to try something. Only if you want to, of course…”

His hand didn’t retreat from where he now stroked my hair, which I took as a good sign. I continued. “Will you show me where and how I can touch you?”

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