Page 22 of In You
Eyeing the bathroom door, I lean the mop against the wall and sneak off into the bedroom next to the bathroom she's in. Going into the closet, I pull aside some hunting jackets I have there, and then find the spot in the wall that slides open. Looking through the small crack, my heart does that thing again at the sight of her sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest and Tink in her lap, licking her face.
She shudders as she sobs, my eyes go lower. Her calves and ankles look so petite and delicate and it brings forth an innate desire in me to protect her.
It's so fucked up, but my cock strains tight against the zipper of my pants for the first time in several months.
I pull away from the closet and stand there for a second, holding my hand up. My face falls with disappointment, and I lower my arm back to my side as my eyes flicker aimlessly around the room as I think.
I'm too big.Muchbigger than Calvin.
I can't do anything about my size, but I know enough to keep my distance so she knows I won't hurt her. But what's my plan? Am I just supposed to keep her forever?
I don't know. But what I do know is that for some fucked up reason I want this woman. Every broken and damaged inch of her. And not only do I want her, I want her to bemine.I want to scrub that man's scent and memory from her body until I'm all she has left. Until she doesn't even know who the fuck Calvin Figureira is, much less what he did to her.
And I would.
If that goddamn doctor wasn't on her way I'd have Tamryn damn near drowning in the bathtub, impaled on my cock while I clean her from the inside out. I let out a low groan and put my hand to my jaw, scrubbing as my heart rate picks up.
I should have left her there.
I should have turned my ass on my heel and walked out the door when I had a chance. She never would have known, not for real. But when she stood there in that doorway of the dining room, looking lost, stuck like she couldn't even figure out how to inhale her next breath much less make her next move, the shit was just so tragic that I made the decision for us.
Mistakes were made. I'm man enough to admit that.
My phone vibrates with the psychiatrist's contact information, snapping me out of my musing. When I open it I also see verification that my IT guy wiped all the video footage from Calvin's home. Heaving a sigh, I open a dresser drawer and rifle around, finding a muscle shirt that looks like it'll be too big on her, but it's about the only thing I have in here that she can maybe fit. I don't bother with giving her a pair of my briefs. They won't hold up. But knowing she’s going to be bare under my clothes has got me near feral.
I walk to the bathroom door and knock once, hearing the crying cease, and I just know she's holding her breath.
I am too, if I'm being honest.
"Hey, I'm putting this tank here outside the door for you to wear, okay? I'd bet you would feel better if you got out of that dress,” I say encouragingly. “Do you need help?"
"No."
I hang it up on the door knob and then walk away, making sure I'm loud enough so she can hear I've left the hallway. I go to the kitchen and put some fish in the oven and rice in the rice cooker, something simple for her to eat when she's done being assessed.
"Motherfuck."Heaving a deep sigh, I go back to the living room and pour myself another finger of scotch and down it quickly, needing something to take my mind off of the beautiful woman who's getting dressed right now.
The fatigue is getting to me, and the fact I’m supposed to be at least two hours into a deepNyQuilcoma is grating at my nerves.
A minute later Tink comes around the corner, the bells of her collar dinging and announcing her presence.
She's followed by Tamryn, who's moving slowly and tugging on the hem of the tank I gave her. I can’t help but stare because she's got magnificent legs. Just miles and miles of smooth brown skin. My throat goes dry, and when I swallow it hurts I'm strung so tight. Fuck me. The hem comes just a few inches shy of her knees, The tank, though big, is revealing enough to show me she's nothing but long legs, lithe arms, small waist, hips that flare out.
My eyes raise to her breasts, framed by her tumbling waves that hang to her waist.
Her breasts jut high and proud against the material. The heavy globes sway as she walks, obviously braless, and though her nipples aren't erect, I can see her puffy areola through the thin material. My jaw clenches, because I didn't know it was possible for an erection to feel this painful.
I don't think there's a drop of blood left in my head.
Oh my God. I know I said I didn't believe in Him, but at the insane thoughts I’m currently having about ruining this woman down to the bone the way I am, I'm sure as shit that I'm going straight to hell.
Probably the very center,hottestlayer, if we're being technical.
Silently, I keep my eyes on hers as I reach over and pull the plaid blanket back off the couch, holding it out.
"I uh…I'm sorry. I didn't expect you to take off your bra," I somehow get out through the lump in my throat.
When she doesn't make a move to grab the blanket, I walk very slowly to the chair nearest the hallway and drape it over the back, and then back right on up to where I was, staring at her silently. Willing her to be strong enough to walk the three feet needed to pick it up.
