Page 40 of Tied to You
I fill the kettle, grabbing two mugs, wondering if I should actually pour something stronger. She’s going to need it. The first time you lose something you grow attached to, the pain lingers and eats away at you in unimaginable ways. I doubt she’s ever experienced anything like it.
The shower turns off and the sound of her feet moving around tells me she’s finished.
I slowly make my way up to her, taking my time so as not to scare her.
“Mick?” she shouts, obviously hearing me.
“It’s me.” I stop at the top of the stairs. Waiting.
The bathroom door slowly opens a fraction, and she peers around it, her hair wet, her hand held to her chest holding the towel around her.
“I made you a cup of tea.”
She smiles weakly, looking at the mug in my hand.
“Wasn’t sure if you wanted something stronger.”
Mollie opens the door slowly, and I struggle not to let my eyes drift up her long legs as she takes small steps towards me. I see every curve. Every movement her slim body makes. She clutches the towel which stops just above her knees, tighter, stopping in front of me. Shit. She’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.
I blink. Swallow.
“My tea?” she questions, seeing me freeze.
I shake myself from the trance she’s put me in. But I can feel it deep inside. The pull. The need. “Uh, yeah, here.” I lift my hand, holding it out for her to take.
When she does, the tips of her fingers graze mine, and we both look down.
There it is again. The spark. The fire under my skin whenever she touches me. My heart collides with the inside of my chest, my breathing quickening even though I try to hide it from her.
Mollie clearly inhales, her breasts pushing up from underneath the towel. She feels it. “I messed up today.” She sobs, her emotions brimming, and my eyes quickly widen at her admission. There’s her hurt. The pain from earlier sitting so clearly on the surface. I hate it. Hate it so much, I’m almost angry that she’s letting it taint her beautiful face.
Her hand lifts to cover her eyes, but I catch her wrist in time, watching her as her tears fall.
She studies me, probably wondering what the fuck I’m doing as she weeps before me.
I wish I knew. Ireallywish I knew.
All I know is that I want to be the one to take away her pain.
Quickly letting go of her and placing the mug down on the table at the top of the landing, I turn back to her, my body standing tall in front of hers.
Cautious eyes meet mine, and time freezes, stilling the moment. I wish it would still the heavy way my chest rises and falls. We both know what’s about to happen. At least, Ithinkwe do. After letting her leave after our kiss, I don’t deserve anymore of her time. Let alone deserve more ofher.
Lifting my hand, I wipe away her tears one after the other, the pad of my thumb gently stroking under each of her eyes. She lets me. Our eyes focused on each other the whole time I move. “That’s better, baby,” I say gently.
A soft noise leaves her. A gentle moan pushing past her lips.
I can’t help myself when I hear it. Trailing my hand down one side of her face, I keep going, slipping further south until I meet the middle of her chest where the towel is tied. She’s still watching me. Still breathing heavy.
I could so easily pull her to where I want her. “Should I stop?” Every part of me hopes she says no because I honestly don’t know if I can. My want, my need, it intensifies with every second she remains silent, simply staring at me.
Mollie doesn’t reply. Instead, taking a closing step toward me, she gives me the answer I need.
A low moan rumbles in my chest, and I don’t miss the way my dick hardens when she looks up at me through her lashes. Fuck. She’ll be the death of me.
Pulling with steady fingers, I untie the towel, letting it slip down her body to the floor. It pools around her feet, and she stuns me, confidently standing naked before me, never even batting an eyelid as my breath rains down on her. It’s like being in this position is empowering her. It’s not a challenge. Rather, confidence.
This fucking woman.
