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“Use your words.”
My eyes widen at Matthew’s tone. It’s a little harder. More demanding. This is the dominant peeking out. It’s not the first time he’s gotten that firmness to his voice with me, but it is the first time it feels like there is true weight to the implied threat.
Part of me wonders what he’ll do if I refuse to answer him. Will he threaten me? Is this where I find out that he’s not at all what he seems? Because I’m an idiot, I don’t respond. Instead, I stand stock-still, chewing my cheek until the sharp metallic taste of blood coats my tongue.
“Perhaps it is time we had a quick chat about expectations. If I ask you a direct question, I expect a verbal response. Communication is important in a—” Matthew hesitates and seems to change his mind about whatever it is that he was going to say. “—Communication is important. Understand?”
He’s so stern and has an air of confidence that it makes me instantly want to give him what he wants, but I’ve chosen my path. Now that the idea to test him is in my head, I can’t seem to ignore it. Some sick part of me needs to know how far I can push him before he raises his hand in anger. Where is the line to cross? There is always a line. If I find it now, I can avoid it later.
I swallow thickly, then nod my head again, averting my eyes so I can’t see the man whose been so good to me change into just another monster. I don’t have to wait long. Before I can even so much as blink, Matthew has my hair wrapped tightly around his hand. He uses his grip to tilt my head back, giving me nowhere else to look besides directly at him.
I wait for the pain of a slap or maybe a vicious tug to my hair that’ll bring me to my knees in front of him, but that doesn’t happen. I fight my instinct to close my eyes as he slowly leans in close. So close his face is barely a hairsbreadth away from mine. I can almost taste the sweet peppermint on his breath.
“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart,” he says in a throaty voice, his lips lightly brushing against mine as he speaks because he’s so close.
He warns me about playing with fire, but with the way he’s holding me and how close he is, I swear, I’m already burning. My insides feel like they are on fire. A warmth bubbles up from deep inside me, and it takes me long seconds to realize what I’m feeling is attraction. The thought is like a shock to my system. I’ve never been in a position to explore the natural attraction between a woman and a man, and now that I am, it’s overwhelming.
The spark of fear has calmed to anticipation. Matthew’s grip on my hair no longer feels like a threat but a promise. I’m going to claim temporary insanity for what I do next because that’s literally the only possible reason for it. Without thinking, I close the minuscule distance between our lips and tentatively press my lips to his. The whole time my brain is screaming at me to stop being an idiot. That he’s going to think I’m offering my body as payment for all the things he’s done for me.
He lingers with his lips against mine, then with a groan pulls away. There is a pained look on his face that I can’t decipher. It definitely doesn’t say, “kiss me, Rose!” In fact, it says the exact opposite. Matthew looks horrified.
Embarrassment floods my cheeks and suffices every single cell in my body. I quickly step away from him. His fingers slip through the strands of my hair with no resistance. With another growl, Matthew grabs ahold of my hand and pulls me against his chest. Gently hugging me to his big body.
“Don’t think I’m ending this because I don’t want you. I am merely taking care to remember that you are injured and in no condition to finish what we start.” He speaks quietly, yet fiercely.
I can’t help wondering what exactly a simple kiss would start. Suddenly, I’m feeling very thankful of Matthew’s level of self-control because whatever it is that could happen next, I am not ready for it. I don’t know if I will ever be ready for it.
“Yo, boss man, we going up or what?” Kisten calls across the parking garage.
Matthew pulls away and rolls his eyes. “You do know I’m the one that signs those very generous paychecks of yours, right?”
Kisten smiles broadly. “Yep. Just like you know who saves your ass.”
I can’t help my snort of laughter, and I do my best to hide my smile behind my hand. Slade pipes up, “Better get used to Bevis and Butthead here, they’re a laugh riot.”
Another snort escapes as I laugh, causing the three manly men to smile at me like they were just given their deepest desire and maybe chocolate cake too.
“Now that is too fuckin’ adorable,” Kisten says.
I can feel the pink heat of a blush spreading across my cheeks. I try to remember the last time I laughed hard enough to snort—an obnoxious quirk I can’t help. I hate it.
Matthew leans down and presses a kiss to the top of my head. Kisten turns away, focusing on the elevator. “It is pretty damn cute, sweetheart, been a long time since I’ve heard you laugh.” Idly I wonder what he means by that since I haven’t laughed since long before we met. Not much reason to laugh for more years than I care to think about. “Are you hungry?” he asks, pulling me out of my dark thoughts.
Just the thought of food has my stomach growling and him smirking, “Maybe a little.” The beast that my stomach has apparently become growls again. Matthew’s smirk turns into a grin, distracting me as the elevator doors slide shut, closing us inside. The little jolt of it moving brings me back to my current situation. I’m enclosed in a small elevator—smaller than usual—which feels even smaller because of the three big men filling it up.
I’m not a fan of small spaces and anxiety, my old friend, is rearing her ugly head. I close my eyes, and focus on my breathing, willing the panic away. I imagine the world around me disappearing until it’s just me. Nothing can frighten me here in the safety of my own mind. No matter what happens to my body, here in this place, nothing can touch me. Slowly, I use an imaginary paintbrush to paint a safe hideaway. This one takes shape into a place I haven’t seen in so long, I forgot it existed. The musty smell of earth fills my nose. The cool, damp air makes my curls turn to frizz. Above me, boards creak as someone crosses the big porch.
I hold my breath waiting for them to pass, though no one knows about this place but me. It’s an oasis for me when I can’t take another minute of my newest foster family. This was my favorite hidey-hole. Though, it’s not quite right… I concentrate for a moment, and a backpack appears beside me and a book pops into existence in my lap.
Why is this the safe place my subconscious decided on? This is one of my forbidden memories. This is from before. When there was still hope in my heart that life will get better. This isn’t a place I want to go back to. It hurts too much. I try to wipe the slate clean, focus on something else, but it refuses to disappear. I take a deep breath, letting the memories wash over me…
“Rose,” his voice washes over me, tugging on the threads of my memory. “Rose…” I reach for that oh so familiar voice. So familiar, and yet, it doesn’t fit. “Rose,” the voice snaps, and my eyes pop open, landing directly on a very concerned looking Matthew. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just hungry.”
“Great, I’m starved.” Kisten claps his hands together loudly. The abruptness of the clap and his booming voice has me jumping out of my skin. The sudden movement pulls at my healing wounds and draws a whimper from my lips. The pain is instant and sharp. I suck in a breath through my teeth, trying to breathe through the pain, knowing it’ll pass quicker if I relax my muscles. Which would be way easier if my heart would stop racing, and I could find my lungs. Loud noises are a trigger for my panic attacks. It causes an instant and visceral response to do one of two things: run and hide or freeze in horror of what’s coming for me.
I close my eyes and concentrate on slowing my heart. Easier said than done when you’re hyperventilating. At least my panic has numbed the pain in my back. Sometimes adrenaline is great. Though I have zero doubt, I’m going to be sore when this little episode is over.
