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Chapter 6
The first thingI notice when I come to is how dry my mouth feels. My tongue sticks flat against the roof of my mouth, practically becoming one with the ridges, and I can taste the mint bubbly water I had on the ride to my parents’ house on my tastebuds.
The second thing I notice is the unfamiliar room; it’s cramped yet luxurious, with polished paneled walls and a stone fireplace across from the bed I’m tucked in. A dull ache flares at the base of my neck, where collarbone meets shoulder, and I sit up, stretching my arms above my head, working through the kink.
The third thing I notice, when the silk sheet falls away from my chest and bares my nipples to the chilled air, is that I’m topless.
Slipping my hand beneath the white sheets, I glide down between my thighs, sucking in a sharp breath.
Not topless.
Naked.
Clenching my thighs together, I cover my breasts with my palms, glancing around the room for my clothes. The backpack I had on at the house sits unzipped on a dresser beside the bed, empty.
There’s a single, circular window in the wall beside my head, and I reach out, pushing the shade up to look out, confirming what the dread in my bones already knew.
I’m on a plane.
My stomach leaps into my throat, blocking the air from my dry mouth; I struggle to inhale, an image of plummeting through the air playing on repeat as I stare into the white clouds, marring my view of the earth below.
Gathering the sheet around me, I slide out of the bed, standing still for a moment while my body gets its bearings. My knees wobble, my entire being rebelling against our airborne state, but also powerless against it.
Using the mattress as an anchor, I shuffle to the dresser and pull open the drawers, hoping to find something of mine inside.
But they’re all empty.
Why would he tell me to pack, just to take my things away?
Frustration spills into my bloodstream, bringing heat to my cheeks as I spin in a circle, trying to figure out what to do now. One peek into the bathroom shows an immaculate granite shower stall, toilet, and a compact sink in the corner, but again no clothes.
Well, not my clothes, anyway.
A single pair of black boxers and a black T-shirt hang on the shower door, the plexiglass wet with condensation. My belly cramps at the thought of Kal stripping bare and showering mere feet from my sleeping form.
He never fully undressed during our one night together, as if still trying to keep some of his mystery intact. It always made me wonder what he thought he was hiding.
I’d been flayed wide open, literally, while he’d remained as tightly wound as ever, making my body bend for his in ways I hadn’t known it would.
Flushing at the memory, I move so the inside of one thigh rubs against the other, sensitive, mangled flesh grating against smooth skin.
I should’ve run the second he drew the blade against me, but the slight pain it caused was erased by the immediate feel of his tongue trailing after, keeping me from bleeding onto my bedsheets.
All my life, I chased bruised cheeks and bloody knuckles, created brokenness beneath my fingertips because I thought it would make my Papá happy. That he’d see me as more than his little mafia princess, and maybe let me live the life I wanted.
Until last Christmas, I didn’t realize the pleasure that could blossom from having someone else do the breaking for you.
Swallowing around the lump of desire wedged in my throat, I move to turn away from the bathroom, immediately colliding with a familiarly rigid chest.
My heart thumps wildly against the ribs caging it in, keeping it from bursting free.
“Kallum,” I breathe, my eyes finding his even though I know I shouldn’t dare look. Not after everything he’s pulled. And yet, like a moth to a flame, I chase his heat.
His eyes darken, the mahogany color eclipsed with lust, flickering over me as his hand brings the meat of a Granny Smith apple to his lips.
When he bites down, juices sparking in various directions, I feel the crunch in my core. It echoes in my ears, my gaze falling as he pulls the apple away to chew, his mouth moist as it moves.
A pulse vibrates between my legs, the dangerous expression on his face making me dizzy.
