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Noah is leaning against the brown leather couch, ankles crossed, the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled to his elbows, exposing his strong tattooed forearms.
“Mik,” he says calmly. There’s not a flicker of emotion for me to grasp on to. His face is eerily put together, voice controlled. Then again, Noah doesn’t lose control in front of others, only behind closed doors.
My voice doesn’t work. I feel betrayed by my body. Instead of greeting him I stand in the doorway staring.
Beckett chuckles, tossing my duffle bag on the couch before unzipping it and removing the contents. “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice finally coming back to me. As long as I’m not talking to him, I’m fine.
Vaughn closes the door to Noah’s home, locking it behind us before joining Beckett. They’re emptying the bag and checking all the contents. Holding up shirts and shaking them out, digging through my makeup. They check it all.
They probably think I brought a bug with me. A camera, a recorder, something that would make Noah’s situation worse. They’re protective of him, he’s like a brother to them and they won’t take a chance that I would be able to betray him, again.
“Upstairs.” Noah says next, and immediately he turns to the stairway and starts to climb the steps expecting me to follow.
Knowing this was coming, I rehearsed every night in my head what I would say when I saw him again. Now that the moment is here, my mind is completely blank. I can’t find the words to tell him to fuck off, to leave me alone. I have so many other things I want to say, questions I want to ask. I don’t trust him to tell me the truth though. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“Now, Mik.” He snarls.
I follow him. My legs carry me up the stairs even though my heart is unwilling. My head, on the other hand, knows I don’t have a choice. Beckett and Vaughn are watching me as I go. I can practically feel Vaughn’s grin searing into my back. He’s enjoying my pain too much.
“We’re not teenagers, you can’t boss me around to impress your friends.” I spit out as soon as he closes his bedroom door behind me.
His room is large, filled with dark furniture and fabrics. The only source of light comes from the large window facing the secluded street. It feels sophisticated in here, too mature for a twenty something. But Noah has been preparing to be an adult his entire life. Now, at 25, he has the aura of a 50 year old businessman.
He quirks an eyebrow, amused with my outburst but he doesn’t say anything. His eyes crawl up and down my body, making goosebumps rise across my flesh.
I press my back against the door feeling small under his gaze. I always have, from the moment I laid eyes on Noah. I felt beneath him.
Just the poor girl falling for the rich boy.
“You can’t just kidnap me.” I add.
“No?” He’s trying to control the smirk that threatens to rise on his lips. He’s always in control. Every emotion is under strict regulation. Unlike me, I wear my heart on my sleeve. Every emotion is written across my face sooner than I can articulate the thought.
“No.” I state. “I’m not yours.”
He hums, nodding. Grabbing the tie off the top of his dresser he strings it through the collar of his dress shirt and ties the knot slowly.
He’s toying with me, I know this. Still, a sweat breaks out across my skin and I feel the anxiety rising within me.
I know what he’s capable of.
But I don’t k
now what he’s going to do to me.
“Are you done now?” he finally asks me, after the panic has taken control of my body. I nod, my vocal cords no longer wanting to work.
“Good, because here’s the thing, Mik.” He stalks closer to me, pressing his body against mine. He takes over my space, filling all of my senses with him. His scent, black coffee and cedarwood, fills my nostrils. Brown eyes peer into mine, his warm body covers me. “You are mine. You’ve always been mine. You will always be mine. Mine to hold, mine to hurt, mine to love. Do you get that yet, baby?” he whispers the last sentence in my ear, sending a chill through my body.
“Yours to kill?” The words come out in a whisper. I don’t know why I say it, but before I can think better of it, I do.
He chuckles, bringing his head back just enough for me to take in his face again. Strong, clean shaven jawline, high cheekbones, deep brown eyes. “Yeah, baby, if I want to. But lucky for you, I don’t.” He pushes off the door and backs away from me.
I inhale a breath like I’ve never breathed before. Letting the fresh air fill my lungs and calm my nerves. I can’t think when he’s that close to me, when his scent is lingering in my nose, overtaking all my senses.
“Get dressed,” he tells me as he heads to his closet.
“For what?”
