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“Just a suggestion.” He holds up his hands, showing that he meant no offense.
“It’s sweet that you notice myfeatures.”I blush as I take a sip of wine.
“I think we both know that I’ve been noticin’ your features ever since I woke up in that hospital bed.” He clears his throat as he wipes his mouth with his napkin and lifts both our empty plates from the table.
“You think your brother will find you here?” I take a risk, knowing how touchy he gets whenever I mention him. Michael pauses on his journey to the sink and slowly turns back around.
“Skid’s never gonna find me,” he tells me, almost hauntingly, as he continues to place the plates in the basin.
“Have you ever thought about going to the police? Not all of them are corrupt.” I stand up and move toward him, wishing there was a way for him to live a normal life again. Perhaps one that could include me in it.
“Everyone’s corrupt, Jenna. That’s why you're so special.” He spins around and takes my face in his hands, his rough, calloused palms scratchy against my cheek as his thumb strokes over my bottom lip.
“Michael,” I whisper his name, prepared to make the leap and move things further. There’s a desperation inside me that begs for more contact like this.
“Yes, Jenna?” He frowns, almost like he’s trying to read what's going on in my head.
“Your injuries are healed now. Do you feel strong?”
“Stronger than ever,” he assures me, the soft touch of his hand turning a little more intense.
“Do you think, maybe we could…?” I close my eyes and feel myself start to tremble. I don’t want to push him, not after all he’s been through, and I’m overwhelmed with relief when he answers my question by sweeping me off my feet, slamming my body up against the refrigerator. His mouth attacks mine fiercely and I feel as though I might combust as his hands slide over my body, exploring me exactly how I’ve imagined.
He holds my throat in his hand as he kisses me, in a way I’ve never been kissed before. It's passionate, almost violent like he’s been suffering the same torment I have.
Dragging me away from the refrigerator, he carries me over to the table where he tugs hard at my yoga pants and fumbles with his belt, then in one smooth motion, he thrusts his cock deep inside me. I rest back against the surface of the table and savor everything he gives me, never have I ever felt so fulfilled. I can’t remember it ever being like this with Paul.
We somehow end up in the living room, the cashmere throw Paul’s mother gifted us for our tenth anniversary tangled between our sweat-drenched bodies.
“I think it’s safe to say you're definitely healed.” I laugh to myself.
“You’re just what the doctor ordered.” He circles my nipple with his finger makes me shiver in all the right places.
“In fact, I think you should call in sick tomorrow and spend the whole day with me.” He kisses my neck and lowers his mouth over my chest, slowly disappearing beneath the throw and making my skin tingle with pleasure.
“I’ve never skipped work,” I confess, fully aware of how square that sounds. I was never an adventurous person until I met him.
“Well, then you’re long overdue a sick day.”
“You're a bad influence,” I tell him when he suddenly stands up in front of me, reaching his hand out to help me back onto my feet.
“Are you complainin’?” he asks as I head into the kitchen so I can locate my panties. They’re still tangled up inside my yoga pants on the kitchen floor and as I step inside them, he picks up my phone from the counter and holds it out for me.
“You ain’t gonna make me beg, are ya?” The puppy dog eyes he gives me has me snatching my phone out of his hand, then texting my ward manager with the same lame excuse about having an upset stomach that everyone else seems to use when they decide to take a day off. It feels rebellious and after placing my phone back on the counter, I stretch up onto my toes and kiss his lips.
“Why don’t you go upstairs, get into my bed, and I’ll bring us up some more wine?” I tell him, trying to sound seductive.
“We’re all out.” He shrugs.
“I have more in the garage, perhaps we could open something from Paul’s special collection.” I draw a circle in the hair that layers his strong, masculine chest with my finger before I leave him in the kitchen and head off to pick out something expensive.
I’m in too much of a rush to even bother turning on the light when I open the garage door, and it’s something I curse myself for when my foot lands in something wet and sticky.
“Damn engine oil.” I tap the wall to try and locate the light switch, Paul has a collection of road bikes and he was always tinkering in here with them. It’s time that asshole came and got them out of my way.
I finally locate the switch and when the light flickers on and brightens up the room, what I see in front of me sucks all the breath out of my body. The floor is covered with thick, dark blood that squelches between my toes, and when my eyes follow its trail and I see where it’s coming from, my first instinct is to run.
I make a dash for the door but slip in the sticky, red syrup beneath my feet, catching my fall on my hands and feeling it soak into my palms. I hold them up in front of me and watch them shake before I look up and see the tower of a man who has been living in my home for the past four weeks leaning casually against the door frame. The adoration I’ve seen in his eyes isn’t there anymore, it’s been replaced with a malice that matches the sick, satisfied smile on his face.
