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“Feel so good,” his sleep-roughened voice murmurs, arm pulling me tighter to his chest. I don’t know how long we’ve been like this, but the proof that we haven’t moved much is in the position we still lie in—my back to his front with his arm beneath my head. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.” More than, and I almost say this when a human need presents itself. My bladder is full and unwilling to wait, so I push his arm up and squirm to the edge of the bed, when he tugs me back.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Bathroom,” I say, turning to look at him from over my shoulder. “Point me in the direction, and I’ll be back in three minutes.”
“Can I count you down?” Another tug and I’m face to face, lips an inch apart at the most. “Do I win something if you take longer than that? I think I should.”
“Aren’t you playful in the…what time is it?” The way he stares at me causes my face to heat up.
“Who cares, and only with you.” His lips ghost mine, soft little pecks that melt me in place. “The door right across from us and hurry up. I’ll make us something to eat.”
“You can cook?” This surprises me, and it also doesn’t stop me from stealing one more kiss before I pull back and slide off the bed. I don’t pause to look back at him until I am on my feet and a few inches away, out of reach. “Or are you going to ask Magda to whip something up while you take the credit.”
“Being sassy looks good on you.” Malcolm scratches his bare chest, a move I follow. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.”
“That’s my line.” Where these bold replies are coming from, I have no clue, but I like how freeing it is to be around him. How I don’t feel like I have to walk on eggshells around him.
Malcolm is powerful, and yet I am not intimidated. Never have been.
With me he is different, and I like it.
“First of all, the bathroom is right behind you,” he drawls, eyes roaming my body and pausing at the two hard tips I’m trying to ignore. The second I slid off his bed, I realized that my thin lace bra hid nothing. That the cool air over my skin while a hot guy—he looks at me—is a very bad combination for my modesty. “And second, Magda has the rest of the weekend off. It’s just us here and I want to keep it that way.”
“Just us?”
He sits up, abs tensing as he holds himself up with one hand. “Problem with that, Twirl?”
I swallow hard. “No. None at the moment.”
“Good.” Malcolm scratches his jaw. Same jaw that has the most mouthwatering five o’clock shadow I’ve ever seen on a man. It makes me want to lick him. “Now hurry up before I pick you up and steal a sample of the sweetness between your thighs.”
Those words don’t register at first, but when they do, I turn around and all but run into the bathroom. Lock the door as his laughter follows me inside and my cheeks heat up. It’s not the first time he’s implied this. Making me his.
Voicing what I know he wants, and I’ll be the biggest hypocrite if I deny wanting it too.
Because I do. I want more. So much more.
However, at the moment it isn’t right. There’s something I want from him first.
He’s earning my trust.
“Girl, get it together,” I whisper, looking at my expression in the mirror of his vanity. What I see staring back at me in the mirror is surprising; I’m smiling, and my eyes are bright—cheeks flushing because of his words and the truth behind them. Because for the first time in a long time, someone cares.
I’m not one hundred percent ready, but the same want is there chipping away at my fear.
With him, I’m not afraid or focusing on the finger-size purplish marks my brothers left on my skin. I’m not obsessing over the way Alton let Brittany treat me—the broken skin she left behind when she dug her nails into my skin. Malcolm doesn’t feel like the stranger he is for all intents and purposes, and while the man isn’t shy about voicing his wants, his actions are showing me he also cares.
It’s because of him that Alton wasn’t able to do more damage.
He’s making me want to stay.
Shaking the thought from my mind and the dangerous road it will travel down, I begin to disrobe, dropping the pajama set Mariah shoved into my hands as soon as I set foot inside this home. They were new, with a tag, and in my size. Made me suspicious, but exhaustion made me compliant and I changed out of my clothes.
The light blue romper set with flowers and my tan sandals are somewhere in his room. At least, I hope, because his wall-to-wall shower looks so inviting and I plan to relax for a few minutes inside.
The bathroom is spacious and white. Every surface, even the décor is white—expensive, with subway tiles throughout and a very spacious custom claw-foot tub.
