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I would know. I followed her home that night. I watched her walk up flights of stairs, trembling, looking over her shoulder every few steps like she knew she was being stalked. Xander doesn’t enjoy killing woman but if it needs to be done, it gets done. We haven’t become the most powerful men in this city without making it clear who people need to fear.
After that night, we were only going to monitor her for a few days. Do some research, see if we could blackmail her if needed, or if she would just keep her mouth shut.
When she got home, she ripped off her clothes and raced to the shower. She took a scorching hot shower and cried as she sat there. It gave me time to look around. Find some dirt, but I found nothing. She didn’t have personal pictures or items. The place looked like she barely moved in. I hid in the closet when the shower shut off, watching her as she climbed into bed naked and passed out.
I couldn't look away as I watched her that night, mesmerized by her beauty. But It was also the first night I saw her thrashing in her sleep, screaming herself awake. It happened every night and at first; I thought it was because of us, the alley, and the unspoken threat Xander gave. I was glad we scared her enough to keep quiet, but after the first week, I realized she wasn’t scared of the men she never saw. She was afraid of something else.
I’m pulled from my own thoughts by her soft voice. “I was trying to picture what you looked like.” She bows her head and I see a faint blush coating her already rosy pink cheeks. She was embarrassed about thinking of me. Ha. I know I’m supposed to only watch, to keep her safe and not approach, but this woman is mine. I decided weeks ago that she would be. Granted, so did Xander that night, and Mav. But the asshole is in denial. But she is also mine and I’m tired of keeping to the shadows.
“What if I’m not what you expect?” I ask, watching for her reaction. I know once she feels me, my size, my scar, my jagged edges, she will be afraid. Even without sight she will know I’m a monster, the big bad wolf stalking its prey, but for once I wish I wasn’t. Or at least I wish I could be her monster.
“What do you mean?” She replies while tilting her head to the side. She is trying so hard to figure me out. I honestly thought she would have recognized my voice from that night, but to my surprise, she hasn’t.
I stare at her again. Always staring, always watching the pretty little princess. That’s what she is. A princess, beautiful and fragile. I’m almost afraid I might break her if I touch her. I dwarf her in size and I know for a fact I could snap her neck with a single hand, but I wouldn’t. She is mine and I will protect her. Even if she doesn’t know it yet.
Chapter seven
Wren
I sit here in thought wondering what he means when he asks, “What if I’m not what you expect?” his deep timber rolls through my body and my lady parts suddenly start to scream, “we’re open for business.”
Ugh. I wiggle a little in my seat to try to relive the needy tingles this stranger has created. I need to get laid. Not that it will happen. Good ole Fred and my wild imagination have gotten the job done in the last few years. Fred being my faithful vibrator. Guys see a blind girl and run like hell in the opposite direction. I don’t blame them, but come on, I’m blind, not incapable of rocking a guy’s world. A woman has needs too, you know.
I tilt my head, staring in the direction I think his face is. “What do you mean?” I ask, genuinely confused about his intended meaning. I try to picture what he may look like, but all I can see is a giant of a man, and that’s only because I basically felt him up a few minutes ago.
I lift the thick paper cup to my lips, taking a small sip. Sweet white chocolate and the bitter taste of coffee hit my tongue and I hmm in pleasure.
I stay quiet for a moment, hoping Jax will respond, but it seems he is also waiting me out. Another slightly awkward minute passes and I start to feel uncomfortable. Not because of the silence between us, but more because I feel like I may have made Jax uncomfortable by asking to feel him. Now that I think about it, it is kind of inappropriate.
What was I thinking?
You don’t go around asking to touch people’s faces. Especially on the first date. Wait, shit, not a first date. I ran into him and he was nice enough to lead a blind girl to a table to have a coffee.That’s all. He’s just being a gentleman, Wren. Don’t overthink it.
“How does it work?” He asks and he must see the confusion on my face because he adds, “When you touch to see? How does it help you see?” His deep voice seems so quiet now when he asks, almost like he was shy about asking. I smile widely at that. The big man is shy around little ole me.
“Well, it’s a little hard to explain. It’s almost like I can see what you might look like. My fingers can etch a picture in my mind. I can feel the shape of your face, feel if you have facial hair, a crooked nose, long or short hair. I mean, I won’t see colors, but I can somewhat outline you.” I begin to fidget with the napkin in front of me. Ripping it into small little pieces. I don’t think I’m making any sense. How do you explain this to someone and not sound bat shit crazy?
“Okay.” He says and this time I frown. “Okay?” I parrot, not understanding what he means now. Okay, he understands what I said. Okay, what?
“You can feel me. If you want, but you don’t have to.” Is it just me, or does this guy sound nervous now? It’s almost laughable. I never knew a guy with a voice that orgasmic, who could sex the panties off a grandma, sound so unsure of himself.
I give his general area a soft smile to reassure him. “I don’t have to if it will make you uncomfortable. You can just tell me what you look like. It’s basically the same.” It’s not, but I also sort of want to ask him if he will have coffee with me again. I haven’t had a not first date in a really long time and it’s kind of nice to talk to the opposite sex for once and not about books.
“I want you too.” He bites out. Almost sounding angry, and I wince a little at the darker tone in his voice. I must not have hidden it well because he softens his voice again. “Sorry. I only meant I don’t mind if you do, but I should warn you, I have a scar on my face that tends to scare people.” I cock a brow at him. It can’t be as bad as what’s behind my glasses, not that I’ll let him see.
I give him a small nod. “I’m sure you're being over-dramatic about it.” I giggle when I hear him grunt in return. “Do you mind moving in closer? So I don’t have to lean across the table and accidentally spill the coffee. It’s happened before. Me leaning over and spilling drinks. I don’t go around feeling up, guys. I swear. Sorry again about earlier, I didn’t mean to touch you lik-“, my words are cut off when I hear a chair scraping against the floor.
A second later, I can feel the body heat of a very large man right next to me. My cheeks heat along with every other body part of me as I take a deep breath after my little rant. Of course, I inhale the most delicious scent ever. His leather scent mixed with something else, something that screams lick me. But I’m not a bitch in heat, so just because I want to lick him clean doesn’t mean I can or make him mine. Or does it?
I jump when I feel his hand cover mine on the table. Holy shit, he has enormous hands. You know what they say about big hands on a guy. Big ass gloves and probably big feet too. Okay, probably other big things too, but we can’t think that way right now, Wren. I feel like little red riding hood where I say, “What big hands you have?” and he would reply, “the better to feel you with.” I shake my head quickly to clear my very dirty, very inappropriate thoughts.
You just met him, Wren. You can’t be desperate. Guys don’t like desperate, they like hard to get, a challenge, right? Or was it that they liked easy girls?Damn it. Why the hell don’t they make a manual to deal with the male species? And they say women are difficult.
I feel him lift my hand, making me finally snap out of my sex riddled thoughts, focusing on the fact that Jax is touching me and I need to focus on feeling him. In a clinical way, like trying to figure out a puzzle and not in the, climb him like a tree because his voice, scent and now touch do some crazy things to my body.
Focus Wren, focus. What does he look like?
Chapter eight
