Page 30 of Perfect
“Th-Theo?” It comes out as a whisper, and his smile widens.
“Hey,” he says in a low, warm voice as he gently takes my face in his hands. “Come here,” he whispers as he pulls my face towards his, leaning down to kiss me. A thrill goes through me when his lips touch mine, and my frozen body unlocks. Ipull away from him, but he leans further into me, trapping me against the cabinets. I reach up and grip his wrists, trying to yank his hands away from my face, but his arms tense and his hands don’t move at all, except to tilt my head back slightly as he deepens the kiss.
I gasp when he gently bites my lower lip, and his tongue sweeps into my mouth, heat and fear shooting through me as I move my hands to his chest, pushing weakly. He doesn’t move at all, but he finally breaks the kiss, his bright eyes wide and surprised when he pulls away from me, his gaze glued to my lips.
“Holy fucking shit,” he says under his breath with a laugh, dropping his hands from my face and slipping them down my body, resting them around my waist. I freeze again at the feeling of his hands on me, and he grins and laughs a little, looking excited before he kisses me again quickly. He backs up, running his hands through his hair, looking down in surprise at the crackling sounds coming from under his shoes as he steps on a few large shards of glass.
“Oh, shit,right. I’ll clean this up, okay? Let me get you some more wine.” He reaches into my cabinet, takes out another glass and hands it to me, pouring in a small amount of wine before grabbing my broom and mop from the small space behind my fridge. My hands are shaking so badly that the wine sloshes around inside the glass as I watch him clean.
How did he know where everything was?
Once he seems satisfied there’s no more glass on the floor, he tucks the broom and mop back behind my fridge and leans against the opposite kitchen counter casually. He crosses his long legs in front of him and gives me that same crooked, amused smile from the other day.
“That’s the first glass of wine I’ve ever seen you ignore,” he teases, and I stare at him in shock and confusion, my voice trapped in my throat and my mind spinning in wild circles.
What the fuck ishappening?
Theo steps forward and tilts my chin up gently as he pulls the wine from my hands, bringing it to my parted lips. He tips the glass up, filling my mouth with wine.
“Swallow.” I do, ignoring my body’s reaction to the commanding tone of his voice or the smirk that plays across his face. I gulp down air, forcing myself to breathe. There’s a man in my house forcing me to drink wine, I have no idea how he got in, and I’m in fucking lingerie.
Oh, my god, he’s going to kill me.
I can’t die like this.
“What…the…fuck?” I’m barely whispering, but once I choke out the first few words, the rest start coming quickly. “What are you doing here? How did you get in? What do you want? Get the fuck out!” My voice gets louder and more frantic until I’m yelling at him. He steps back and cocks his head slightly to the side, looking confused.
“Alex, calm down.” Anger blooms suddenly in my chest, and I throw the wine glass at him. He flinches to the side and swears loudly as the glass explodes against the cabinet behind his head. I jump off the counter, praying there’s no glass on the floor as I run for the door, but his strong arm grabs me around the waist, pulling me up off the ground and back into him as he hauls me into the living room and throws me on the couch. I land with my legs over the arm of the loveseat and my head flat on the seat, and then he’s in my face, gripping my jaw and forcing me to look at him.
He looksfurious.
“Do not throw things at me, Alexandria,” he bites out, his voice low and harsh. He grabs my wrists in his hands, and I realize how absolutely fucked I am as he pulls out a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket. I start screaming for help as hequickly fastens my hands in front of me, and one of his large, warm hands slips over my mouth.
“Stop it,” he snaps. “Roger’s not home and there aren’t any renters this week, so no one will hear us. Just sit there for a minute while I clean,again.” He stands up, watching me as he slowly lifts his hand to make sure I don’t start screaming again, but I stay quiet. I see a muscle twitching along his tense jaw as he sighs heavily and heads back to the kitchen.
When I hear him start cleaning, I try desperately to push through the fear and think. I barely know this man, and he’s acting like it’s no big deal that he’s somehow in my house and has me handcuffed. How does he know we’re alone? Did he make sure that happened? What was thatkiss?
Fuck, I need to get out of here.
He’s preoccupied with cleaning my kitchen, so if I’m careful, maybe I can make my way to the door. It’s worth a shot, at least. I slowly pull my knees towards my face, wedging my feet against the arm of the couch and pushing myself into a sitting position as silently as I can.
“Alexandria Marie Shearer,don’t move.” I freeze at the sound of Theo’s irritated voice, trying not to panic.
There’s no way out.
I scramble into a sitting position, curling up in a ball on the couch once I see him finish up in the kitchen and walk towards me. He sits down next to me, running a hand through his hair before looking at me, his face torn between frustration and concern.
“Give me your feet.” I curl up tighter, shaking my head. He rolls his eyes as he grabs one of my ankles, and I whimper as he pulls my foot close to his face and makes an exasperated sound. “I fucking knew it. You’ve got glass in your foot.Don’t move.” He gets up and heads to the bathroom, immediately returning with tweezers and my first aid kit.
“How do you know where everything is?” I blurt out, but he ignores me as he bends down, gently pulling my foot towards him again and working a small shard of glass out of my big toe. He cleans the area with an alcohol wipe and applies ointment with a cotton swab, bandaging it before holding out his hand for my other foot. I tentatively stretch it forward and, after inspection, he pulls a fairly large shard of glass out of my heel and repeats the process in silence. He drops the bloody glass and the tweezers on the table and gives me a tight, forced smile.
“Let’s try this again, okay? Do you want some more wine? You can’t have another glass, though. I really don’t want to sweep again,” he says, smiling a little as he gently rubs the arch of my foot.
Is hejoking?
I stare at him, my eyes wide, and his smile fades as I yank my foot out of his grip and curl up tighter into myself. I take a few deep breaths, trying and failing to wrap my head around what’s happening.
“What thefuckare you doing here?” He winces slightly at the shrill pitch of my voice.
