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Chapter Twelve
Cosima
When she woke, it was in the squishiest, warmest bed she’d ever been in, wearing a soft camisole and matching shorts. And she was being cuddled. She must’ve died and gone to heaven.
Cosima couldn’t remember the last time she’d been cuddled. No, she did. Hudson had held her in his lap and snuggled her into his broad chest and surrounded her with his thick arms while they waited for the ambulance, hugged her at the hospital, carried and snuggled her for most of the evening yesterday.
It was that same firm, heavy warmth that was pressed against her back, and one of those thick arms slung over her ribcage.
It hurt because she was still bruised—they’d said she had cracked ribs—but it felt too good to be held to want it to stop. She was the tiny spoon to Hudson’s massive spoon and it was nice to have her bottom nestled against him, his legs bent behind hers.
But if Hudson was spooning her from behind, who was…
She blinked open her eyes and there was Ian, the man who’d found her on the doorstep and who had been coming to visit her with Hudson.
Ian with his crazy ginger hair and his nearly translucent lids covering his freakishly bright green eyes. Freckles on his handsome face that she could count because he was so close to her. He had a hand resting on her hip while his chest expanded and contracted in the slow rhythm of sleep, his crinkly bronze chest hair dusting his pale skin.
She was loath to move because this was so wonderful but she also needed to pee, so badly. But she didn’t want to wake Hudson or Ian up, and she couldn’t remember where the bathrooms were even after they’d showed her. Were they even going to allow her to use the bathrooms? Master hadn’t allowed that. She figured Hudson and Ian would but what if she used the wrong one? What if she broke something?
A million what-ifs cartwheeled through her head and she was on the verge of hyperventilating when there was hot breath on her neck and Hudson spread the fingers of his huge hand over her midsection.
“Hey, hey. Cosy, what’s the matter?”
Ian’s eyes flashed open, wide with concern, and she wanted to crawl under the covers. How could she explain this to them? It was mortifying. Part of it was for sure the present embarrassment but part of it was also how she’d allowed herself to be treated in the past and she didn’t want to tell them. Couldn’t tell them. They thought she was poor and sweet—she didn’t want them to know she’d been treated like an animal. Worse than an animal. Or did she? It had been comforting, sometimes.
She’d told Hudson a few things about living with Master—including how she’d come to live with him in the first place—but not many. She didn’t want to tell him anything else but she probably would, and she assumed he would tell Ian. That wasn’t great but it was better than her having to tell them both.
“Maybe she’s scared, Huds. She probably didn’t expect to wake up in a full bed like this.”
“I—” she managed to croak. “I’m not scared. This is—You’re—I’m not scared.”
Hudson backed away from her and she wanted to tell him to come back but he turned her onto her back and then both he and Ian were snug against her sides, heads resting on folded arms so they could see her, their arms crossed in an X over her torso, all of their legs tangled together. It was so lovely she could cry.
Hudson smoothed some hair away from her face and looked at her with those dark brown eyes that made her feel like melted chocolate inside.
“You don’t ever have to be afraid of us, I promise. If we ever do something that makes you uncomfortable, just tell us.”
Cosima wanted to agree, knew she should, but the idea of saying no was a bit beyond her. It had been so long…
So instead she swallowed and tried not to squirm because the men’s arms were pressing down on her bladder and she didn’t want to make a mess in the bed. On them.
“I, um, I just need to use the bathroom,” she whispered as she felt her skin get hot and prickly with shame.
She could hear Master in her head:Having needs and imposing them on other people is greedy and selfish. How dare you? You aren’t even human; needs are for people.
“Is that all? Of course you do. You’ve been out like a light for almost fourteen hours, of course you need to go,” Hudson said, his tone apologetic. “Hang on a sec.”
He rolled away from her and swung his legs out of the bed, standing to his full height in just a pair of grey athletic shorts. He really was huge. She thought she’d been exaggerating or had been fooled by the angle when she’d been on her knees at Hive, and in bed at the hospital, but no. He must be almost seven feet tall. And he wasn’t tall and thin. No. He was broad and heavy with a thickly furred barrel chest, equally hairy legs like tree trunks, and arms like massive hams. Jeez, he could squish her like a bug if she wanted to. Why did she like that idea so much?
Cosima thought he’d help her up and show her to the bathroom she could use—or wherever it was they wanted her to go—but when she tried to sit up, Ian slid his hand to her shoulder and held her down with an arm banded around her chest.
“Where do you think you’re going, little girl? You’re on strict bedrest for at least a week. You’re undernourished and injured and you can hardly stand without passing out. Never mind that your feet are bandaged from walking here with no shoes. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Ian insisted. “This is not a discussion. I’m not going to spank you for misbehaving because you’re too bruised but I’m not above plugging you with some freshly peeled ginger root, understand?”
“Ian,” Hudson said in a warning tone, like he thought Ian shouldn’t be threatening to punish her. But the thing was, it was a language she understood and it made her feel like she was being held, tightly. Like rules were things that kept her safe.
