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“So wash them. The machine’s under the stairs.”
She bit her lip.
“What? Don’t tell me. You don’t know how?”
She looked away.
He set his beer down, and the next thing she knew, he was pulling her to her feet. “Crash, what are you doing?”
“Come on.” He pulled her inside, down the stairs and over to the machine. Kicking the wet towels out of the way, he flipped the washing machine lid up. “Read.”
She glanced at the inside of the lid, noting the instructions imprinted there. “Fuck you!” she hissed and tried to twist her arm free, but he had a firm grip on her wrist.
“Aw, babe. Pickin’ up some foul language, are you? I don’t want to hear that talk come out of your mouth again, understand me? Or I’ll wash it out with soap.”
She sucked in her breath. “You wouldn’t dare!”
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“Wouldn’t I? Try me.”
“Why do you care if I swear? You and the guys do it all the time.”
“That’s them. That’s not you.”
“So?”
“Don’t start picking up that shit, Shannon. You’re a lady. I like that. I don’t want to hear you start cussing like a truck driver.” He tilted her head up by the chin. His gaze fell to her lips. “That mouth’s too pretty to have those words come out of it, got me?”
She stared, mesmerized by his face so close to hers.
“Nod your head, Princess.”
She nodded her head.
Then he released her and walked away, leaving her standing in a pile of wet towels.
CHAPTER SIX
Crash rolled over, bolting upright. Startled from sleep by the sounds of Shannon screaming out, he surged to his feet, looking toward the bedroom. The loft was dark, he could see the shadow of the chains as the metal glinted with what little moonlight came in through the skylights, but he couldn’t see the bed or Shannon. His first crazy thoughts were that her ex had found her somehow and was struggling with her.
He dashed across the room and to the bed. He could see the outline of her body in the shadowy light, but he didn’t see anybody else. Moving to the bedside table, he flipped on the light. She was thrashing in the throes of a nightmare. Sitting down on the bed, he tried to gently wake her. “Shannon,” he called her name softly. “Shannon, honey, wake up.”
She came awake swinging, her left fist popping Crash backhanded across the jaw. He quickly subdued her, grabbing both her forearms and pinning them across her chest. “Shannon, calm down!” She instantly stopped struggling and lay there staring up at him, her chest heaving with her rapid breathing. He could see she was confused. “You were having a nightmare, Princess.”
He released her arms, and she immediately scooted backwards, sitting against the headboard. Her eyes darted around the room, squinting against the light. She rubbed the heel of one hand over her eye and forehead. “Umm. I was dreaming he locked me in the trunk of a car. God, it seemed so real.”
“It was just a dream, honey.”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
He grinned, rubbing his jaw. “You got a wicked left hook, though.”
Her eyes got wide. “Did I hit you? Oh, God. I’m sorry.”
He stood up to leave. “Go back to sleep.”
Her hand came up and grabbed his forearm. “Wait. Don’t go. Please.”
