He ambles around the desk until he’s in front of me. He faces me and shrugs, crossing his arms. “This is what works best for me.”
I push off the desk and stand up straight because I don’t like him looking down at me as we talk. It makes me feel less in control. “Letting someone beat you to the point where you’re still bleeding the next day, this is what works?”
He glares at me, his arms flexing before he grins widely, surprising me. “I like it. It feels good.”
“You take pleasure in being punished?”
He scoffs. “No.”
My brows arch in confrontation. “No?”
There is a long pause before he responds, his voice even, devoid of emotion. “I take pleasure in the pain.”
“In the pain? How? How does pain equate to pleasure?” I unconsciously lean forward, wanting to be closer to him, to truly understand how this could possibly be the case.
“Because it’s better.”
“Better than what?” I’m still confused and surprise myself with the sharp bite of my retort. I force myself to lean back, blowing a long breath of air through lips that are barely open.
His eyes lock back onto mine, the green of his irises so dark and intense they remind me of pine branches whipping wildly in the fierce winter winds. “Better than everything else.”
This doesn’t surprise me. Other patients have told me that inflicting physical pain onto themselves takes away the mental pain they are feeling, even if it’s just for a short amount of time. To them, that time is pure bliss.
I smile sadly and nod my head in understanding but still try to reason with him. “Patrick, we have to find another way. A better way. A way that doesn’t leave you bloody and battered.”
He stares at me, and I can see a million thoughts are running through his mind, but he doesn’t tell me any of them. Instead, I watch as he unfolds his arms and takes three steps forward, closing the gap between us, leaving him inches from me. He’s invading my space, and instead of moving back, I look up and meet his gaze, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end from the electricity sparking between us. I can hear my own breath coming out in short pants. I know, without it being said, that he has another way to feel better and all I have to do is say yes. I’m not sure how long we stand there, the tension between us growing, when the bell from the timer dings. I jump, his hand snaking out, wrapping around my wrist. “Easy.” He leans an inch closer, his breath hot on my ear as he whispers, “Time’s up.” Then he turns abruptly and strides out of my office, slamming the door behind him.
You can grab your copy of Tempting Justice on all platforms right here: books2read.com/u/4XRo29
* * *
Michelle Windsor is a wife, mom, and a writer who lives North of Boston with her family. When she isn’t spinning stories, she’s been known to partake in good wine and good food with her family and friends. She's a voracious reader, loves to hike with her German shepherd, Roman, enjoys a good romance movie and may be slightly obsessed with Outlander.
You can find Michelle on her webpage at www.authormichellewindsor.com,
on Facebook at www.facebook.com/authormwindsor
or on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/author_michelle_windsor/.
Also Available by Michelle Windsor:
The Winning Bid:
https://www.books2read.com/u/mey2KZ
The Final Bid:
https://www.books2read.com/u/mBrMVM
Losing Hope:
https://www.books2read.com/u/brYoyY
Love Notes:
https://www.books2read.com/u/mYrgxo
Tempting Secrets:
https://www.books2read.com/u/49WPLY
Tempting Tricks:
https://www.books2read.com/u/4XRo29
Breaking Benjamin:
https://www.books2read.com/u/bW9Z01
Marrying Benjamin:
https://www.books2read.com/u/bMZrNX
Trevor makes the beginning of my love story seem cliché. I like it anyway.
—Audrey
Let’s take it back to high school, junior year.
The place: Creston, a city somewhere between the moon and New York City.
I never realized how much I liked Trevor Hale until the day he saved me from a rogue locker door striking me in the face.
I was walking through the hallway, as one did in high school, chatting with my bestie, Sophie, about the importance of attending the homecoming football game when a locker door came out of nowhere and aimed its metal fist right at my face. Right before my instincts kicked in to tell me to sidestep or be maimed, an arm reached around me and pulled me backward. My back hit something hard. Scratch that … someone hard.
“Oh shit, Audrey,” Lance said after he peeked around the open door. He looked over my head, mouthed a, Sorry, slammed the offensive locker door shut, and fled like his ass was on fire.
The arm around me tightened as a voice whispered in my ear, “You’re lucky I caught you, little one. You could have lost an eye.”
With my body quickly covered in goose bumps and my hands slightly shaken, I ducked and slid out from under his heavy arm. Butterflies started attacking each other in my stomach.
“I’m not that little. And I’m pretty sure my eyes are safe in their sockets.” I turned to look at my savior, only to see Trevor smirking at me. Not just butterflies, but a whole plethora of insects joined the fight in a haphazard manner inside my tummy. It was quite disturbing, the amount of nerves that developed so quickly and from one stupid smirk.
He leaned against a locker, getting comfortable in his cockiness. “True. Your eyes look pretty to me.”
“Smooth, dude,” Sophie blurted out.
Trevor did that small, sideways-mouth laugh that guys did when they thought they were hot shit. “I knew you’d think so.”
I rolled my eyes, then moved them away from him, and pinned them on Sophie. “Let’s go.” I nodded my head in the direction of our English Lit class.
“Hey, Audrey. Wait up.” Trevor trotted behind us as he pulled his pants higher onto his narrow hips. Apparently, it was a thing for the guys in our school to wear pants bigger than their actual waist size.
Sophie and I didn’t stop. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t; the second bell was about to ring. I was the girl who was almost always late to class. But I was also the kind of girl who had her head on straight when it came to school. Who didn’t associate with trouble or those who caused it. Who always finished her homework but, honestly, with hardly any time to spare. Who was home by curfew—barely. Who didn’t defy her dad’s rules and listened when her other dad lectured on the importance of being a proper lady.
You get the point. I was a good girl.
“Where ya heading?” he asked as he squished between me and Sophie.
I pointed ahead. “English Lit.”
He nodded like he’d already known. “Cool. Can I tag along?”
“Don’t you have a class you need to get to?”
“Nope. Free period. I’m all yours.”
I scoffed. “You’re not mine. And I have to get to class.”
I tried to speed up my pace. His long legs ate up the very small distance between us.
Sophie, being the stupid friend that I had now deemed her to be, stopped mid-stride. “I, uh, have to go to the restroom before class.”
“I’ll go with you,” I hurriedly responded.
“No!” she all but screamed. “No. That’s okay. I’ll be quick.” She scampered off as if she might poop herself if she didn’t get in a stall soon.
I knew her motives.
What a bitch.
As I stared at my now-ex-best friend’s retreating form, Trevor slung his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go, little one. I’ll get you to class safely.”
With a roll of my eyes and a weird scoffing sound coming from my throat, I let him lead me to English Lit.
* * *
For the rest of that week, Trevor would find me. He’d hang at my locker until I
was ready to move on. He’d wait for me after class by the door just to say hi. He’d walk me to most of my classes like he was my personal bodyguard. And, even though we didn’t share a lunch period, he’d skip his class, so he could sit with me and my friends.
He was nothing if not persistent.
Why? I had no clue.
That was, until Friday came around.
“So, you wanna hang out tonight?” Trevor asked as I dug in my locker for my Physics book.
“No.” I refused to pull my head out of my locker to look at him. If I did, he would see the awkward smile on my face.
“Ah, come on, little one. Let’s go to a movie or something.”
I found the Physics book and leaned out of the locker. “You want to take me out?”
He stared at me to the point that I felt a little uneasy. “Yeah”—he nodded— “I wanna take you out.”
I looked away and paused for a few seconds. I wasn’t sure why. I already knew what my answer would be. I was pretty sure Trevor did, too.
He moved into my line of sight. “What do you say, little one?”
I smiled. “Sure. Let’s do it.” Of course, after I realized how I’d just answered him, I blushed what was probably an embarrassing shade of red. “Um, I mean, I’ll go out with you.”
He stepped up closer to me, and before I could register what happened, he surrounded my body with his. I could feel him everywhere. His heat transferred to me, making me feel hot.
“Thank you,” he whispered into my hair.
From that moment on, I knew I’d always want Trevor Hale in my life.
* * *
Now, on our first date, he picked me up in his flashy little sports car, opened doors for me, paid for everything, and even held my hand while walking down the sidewalk. I was pretty sure I was Cinder-freaking-ella, and at midnight, I would turn into a pumpkin or some other kind of gross vegetable.
At least, that was how Trevor made me feel. Not like a gross vegetable, but like this was a fairy tale and not real life.
My sixteen-year-old brain was on overload. Every cell in my body reacted to him. It didn’t matter what he did or said. His aura sucked me in and attached itself to mine. It was both scary and super hot at the same time.
I had been waiting for him to kiss me the entire night. I had given him every chance to do so. Made every effort I could to put my face near his. I’d even gone as far as to lay my head on his shoulder during the movie and look up several times, which caused my nose to slide along his jaw.
No dice.
I had no idea what his deal was. He’d dated Missy Chapman for two years, so I was pretty sure he knew the signs and how to act on them.
Doubt started to creep in that maybe it was me. Maybe I was too inexperienced; he’d just picked up on it, and he didn’t want to deal with a virgin. Maybe I was too smart, and he didn’t want to feel dumb around me. Maybe he had taken a dare, and it was to chase me and get me to say yes to him. Or maybe I wasn’t pretty enough.
No.
Nope.
That couldn’t be it. I knew I had looks. With my long caramel hair, light-hazel eyes, and olive-colored skin, I looked like my birth mom, Gail. Yes, I wore glasses when I did my homework or sometimes while watching TV or movies. But my stylish glasses just accessorized my at-home outfits. My two dads made sure I wore designer clothes and put only the best products on my face, skin, and hair. James, my stay-at-home dad, took me on spa days once a month and took me shopping whenever he thought I needed a wardrobe update, which was usually bimonthly. I couldn’t have asked for a better Daddy to keep me looking my best. Gail would join in often and give womanly advice when I needed it.
So, back to the dilemma …
“Audrey?”
“Huh?”
I glanced over to him. He was expectantly looking at me.
“I said, you look bored.” Trevor grabbed my hand and squeezed.
We were on our way back to his car when he came to an abrupt stop. Turning to face me, he planted himself right in front of my body.
“No. I, um …” I didn’t know where to look, so I looked down at my fabulous pink ballet flats.
“Hey.” He lifted my chin and searched my eyes for my answer since I clearly couldn’t form a sentence. “If you’re not having a good time, I can take you home.”
I searched his face this time. His eyes looked hopeful, his mouth in a straight line, his finger not moving from my chin. In that moment, I realized one thing about Trevor Hale; he wanted this date to keep going, wanted me to stay with him, wanted more time, wanted to lay one on me.
I felt my lips start to smile of their own accord. “I’m having a good time,” I whispered.
He smiled back. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay then.” And, before I knew what was happening, his lips were latched on to mine.
Sneaky bastard.
So, we kissed.
And we kissed.
And we kissed some more. Right there on the sidewalk in front of a veterinary office.
Time passed by in a rush, leaving me a bit breathless when we leaned back away from each other.
I couldn’t stop smiling. It was stupid but true. If he hadn’t had me before, he sure as hell had me now after that kiss. I had been kissed by boys before. My two dads didn’t set rules for dating age limits. I’d had my first sort-of date when I was fourteen. I had been kissing boys for a little over two years.
But that kiss …
It beat all kisses I’d had previous to it, which, to be honest, was not many.
“Thank you.” He slid his hands from the sides of my face and down my arms, and then he linked his fingers with mine. “Let’s go stop by Sam’s party.” He started to walk backward while he pulled me forward.
“Okay.”
He let go of one hand and strode beside me to his car. Opening the passenger door, he leaned me over and gave me one more kiss for the road before directing me into the seat.
I could seriously get used to this.
At Sam Lutsen’s party, we hung out with the mutual friends that we shared. I met a few of his I didn’t know, and he met a few of mine. It threw me off guard when he called me his girl. It seemed as if everything was moving full speed ahead since the kiss on the street. We couldn’t keep our hands away from each other or our lips off each other.
By the end of the night, I had become Trevor Hale’s girlfriend.
Amazon link to It's Complicated
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Forever Tomorrow: Kingsley Series Book 4 Page 10
