An in-depth glance at his massively dilated gaze doesn’t ease my curiosity in the slightest. He has beautiful oceanic eyes that promise to immensely reward obedience, but they’re also full of hate and deceit.
I want to trust him, but when you’ve been hurt time and time again by those you love, it’s not an easy thing to do. It is the equivalent of reaching into a beehive and hoping not to get stung. I might live in a mental hospital, but I’m not stupid.
Well, I wasn’t before the doctors made my brain gooey.
“Please, Claudia.” Dexter jangles the leather cuffs pinching his wrists and ankles, amplifying his plea. “I won’t hurt you. You can trust me.”
After a short stint of deliberation, I set to work on freeing him. It’s the least I can do after all the help he has given me.
It is also a reminder as to why I can’t trust anyone.
The instant the final cuff is removed from Dexter’s ankle, he snatches my wrist, drags me onto his bed, then flattens me like a pancake with his fit, sweat-slicked body.
A torrent of horrible thoughts bombard me when his hand creeps up to clamp my shrieking mouth. They include images of my daddy’s hands testing the strength of my lungs when his meal wasn’t served at precisely six o’clock, followed by the putrid stench of his breath hitting my face when I did the same thing to him years later, but for several minutes longer.
Then, finally, the visual a thousand days hasn’t stripped from my mind. The big, masculine hand of a man my love sent in his place because he was too angry to look at me. He placed me in psychiatric care, locking me away until I pay for my sins. He said it wasn’t my fault and that he was sorry for what he had done. I accepted his apology because I could see the remorse in his eyes. He wasn’t hurting me because he hated me like my daddy did. He was being forced against his wishes, as I am now.
I won’t go down without a fight this time, though. It’s been years since I last saw Nick, but I’m confident our love is still strong. He hears my whispered promises floating through the air, the pledges of celibacy and atonement. He is waiting for me. He just hasn’t worked through his anger just yet. That is why he stood next toherin the magazine article, smiling and acting happy. It was a façade to hide his pain. I hurt him, but one day, I’ll make it up to him.
One day soon, I hope.
My wailing softens when Dexter whispers, “Shh, Claudia. I won’t hurt you. I just need you to be quiet.” The angry snarl of his voice doesn’t match the sincerity of his words. “Once the guards leave, I’ll remove my hand from your mouth, but you need to be quiet, okay? If you yell, we’ll both be in trouble. You don’t want us to get in trouble, do you?”
It’s stupid for me to do, but I shake my head. If his eyes weren’t locked on mine, I wouldn’t have, but something in his eyes makes me reckless, and I’m not going to mention the funny sensation zapping through my body from being squashed by him. Although his weight is kept off me by his elbows, the lower regions of our bodies are touching.
“Good girl,” Dexter praises when he notices my attempts to remain quiet.
When he slings his eyes to the door, I mimic his movements. My heart rate I’ve just settled breaks into a canter when the shadows of two guards darken the frosted glass of Dexter’s door. Their presence is shocking, not because they’re doing their job but because they altered their routine.
The guards at Meadow Fields follow procedures to the T. Theynevervary from the routine. That’s why I’m visiting Dexter’s room under the cloak of darkness because I knew the hallways would be empty since the staff is in the process of bringing on a new shift.
For them to be outside Dexter’s room, something must be wrong—horribly wrong.
Since Dexter’s pulse is roaring through both our bodies, I am unable to hear what the guards are whispering. Whatever it is, it must be unpleasant, as the longer they talk, the faster Dexter’s heart pulses.
It also lessens the heavy rod nestled between my legs.
Dexter’s crazy heart rate only slows when the shadows disappear from his door a few minutes later. Mine remains high. That’s expected since Dexter’s focus has returned to me. He is an extremely handsome man, but no amount of charm can hide black insides. I’ve tried to conceal mine for years. I’ve never been successful.
“I’m going to remove my hand. Don’t scream.”
His raspy voice makes the lack of oxygen in my body more noticeable. Because his request is more a demand than a question, he doesn’t wait for me to respond. He slowly drops his hand from my mouth, bringing it to within an inch of my breast.
The frantic thrust of my lungs brings our bodies closer with every gulp I take, but the harder I struggle to control my breathing, the more worked up my lungs become. Within seconds, my erect nipples are scraping Dexter’s firm chest.
The sensation is odd. It’s a feeling I’ve never experienced. It’s as if electricity is surging through my body before it does a weird thing to the ungodly womanhood between my legs. It feels nice but naughty at the same time.
I sink into the mattress, conscious my love wouldn’t like me being this close to another man, much less having the wicked thoughts I am.
A little voice inside me whines when Dexter rolls off me a few seconds later.
It’s the naughty one I’m not allowed to listen to.
Although Dexter appears as confused as me, his focus remains clear. “How did you get in my room?”
His words are as wobbly as his legs. They expose that his earlier sedative isn’t the only thing his body is combatting. I’ve never heard his voice so low and brittle. Normally, it is stern and dominant and demands the attention of everyone in the room.
When I remain quiet, Dexter’s wide eyes scan my face, neck, and chest before they drop to take in the rest of my body. That earlier unknown commotion between my legs triples when his eyes linger on me longer than I’m usually perused. I’ve never been given a look like this before. I’m a one-quick-glance-without-a-second-look type of girl. The only time I’ve been appraised for longer than twenty seconds is when I’m in a room with a handful of people wearing white coats.
