“I won’t,” I say, shooing his hands away from my face but mainly away from my bruise.
I hear the doors open and a rush of lavender and vanilla hits me dead on. Oh, that is nice. I smell Kevin’s scent in there somewhere too, and that pushes it from nice to heavenly.
“Alright open them, Darlin,” he says. He sounds anxious.
I open my eyes and almost take a step back, it’s so beautiful. His master bath does not scream man or bachelor. This bathroom is Heaven on Earth. To the right are his and hers sinks settled in to a very spacious cream-based granite vanity that extends all the way to each wall. Talk about your counter space. Two massive, wooden framed mirrors hang on the wall above each sink, and soft lighting comes from the silver fixtures above the mirrors. To the left of the door is a natural stone-standing shower stall, and inside on the ceiling are four shower heads. They look like they might rotate somehow, but I can’t focus on that after I see the tub. A massive garden tub complete with jets on all sides has caught my eye. You can fit three, maybe four people in there or two people comfortably. That takes my mind to la-la land as I picture me and Kevin submerged to our necks, facing each other, and not seeing what is happening under the water. On the edge of the tub along the wall are a bunch of candles. Just about all of them are different sizes and shapes, and that makes this tub invite me even further in. That’s my kind of tub.
When I come to the other side of the wall, I am faced with another door.
“That’s just the toilet in there,” Kevin says to me to save me time, I suppose.
I turn around to face Kevin who is still at the door, and I do another scan of the most perfect bathroom I have ever laid eyes on.
“Wow,” is all I can muster up, and even that is breathy.
As I let my eyes scan over the room over and over again, I can’t help but to notice that this whole house was definitely built with two people living here in mind, if not more.
“Come here, May.” It’s not a question, but it’s not a harsh statement either.
I walk my ass slowly right over and stop inches from him, so we are almost touching.
“Yeeeeeees?” is all I say, with a smile.
When I look into his eyes, my smile falls away slowly because this is a look I haven’t seen before. Seeing this look on his face hits me right in the middle of my heart and brain all at the same time. His beautiful eyes are a mix of a bright-green and honey-brown, and they make me want to sink into him and stay there. He isn’t smiling, but there is some emotion on his face I just can’t place. It’s almost as if he has been waiting for me to be here his whole life, and now that I am here, he’s content, blissfully happy, but content with the world around him.
Out of nowhere, another yawn works its way up to my mouth, and I try very hard to suppress it but no such luck.
Kevin laughs a little and says, “Time for bed for you, darlin’ . . . Let’s go.” He leads me by the shoulders back into the bedroom, and I downright stare at his bed, hoping he will tuck me into it, but when he turns my shoulders towards the stairs, I stick out my lip in a mock pout.
Boo.
I walk down the stairs carefully even though Kevin is behind me and still has his hands placed on my shoulders. I’m so tired.
We walk into the guest room, and he places me sitting on the side of the bed.
“Last time I was with you, you didn’t wear any pajamas or much else. So . . .?” He asks, kind of bashfully.
“Left side of the large duffel. Some shorts and a tank top, please,” I say with my eyes closed and taking the smell of the house into my nose.
“Arms,” he instructs.
“No need,” I say as my hand goes to my tie around shirt’s sash. I unknot it and let it fall open.
Kevin kneels in front of me, takes my boots off one at a time, and then my socks. I just sit there completely motionless. He stretches up to his knees and places his hands in my shirt and rests them on my shoulders. With a slow, “mmm,” he runs his hands down my arms and takes my shirt off.
“Damn,” he says under his breath.
I hear him, and I smile a little. It’s nice I still have an effect on him even if we aren’t having sex.
“Belt,” he instructs next.
I straighten up, so he can unhook my belt from itself, and he slowly pulls it through all the loops and lets it fall to the floor.
I have to say I have woken up a bit to this little strip tease. It’s kind of hot. Kevin’s hands are wonderful, strong and gentle, hard and soft. They aren’t grabbing me or anything like that but feeling them on my skin just does something to me.
“What’s next?” he asks me while his eyes close, as if he’s trying keep cool at whatever I say.
“Pants. I think I still have some of that asshole’s blood on them. Come to think about it, I might just burn them,” I say sleepily.
“Pants . . .” he says, blowing out a breath.
“Are you okay? Should I have not come here, Kevin?” I’m feeling a little insecure around him now.
“Yes, and are you fucking kidding me?” is all he says as if he’s trying to come up with some kind of plan for my pants.
He gets to his feet and moves inches closer to me. He balls up his fists and places them on the edge of the bed on either side of me. All I have to do is tilt my head up, and I can feel his lips again. I don’t. I am not going to start something that he might not want. And I don’t know if I would be able to stop if he did let it start.
“Look at me, darlin’,” he says on a whispered command.
I look up and see those intoxicating eyes. He leans slowly forward, and I slowly lean back onto the bed, still captured by his eyes. When I am lying on the bed completely, Kevin is still inches from my face. I want him to kiss me, dammit, but he doesn’t. He pulls his head down my body. I feel his hot breath on my neck, not his lips. Oh, he’s teasing me; that’s just cruel. He moves down the center of my chest and my stomach. He moves his head to my right, around my hip, and I know what he’s doing. He has locked onto my tattoo.
“In my sleep, May.” His tone is still a whisper. “And you have added some more I see.” His voice is a little shaky now, and I know he’s really trying to hold on to his control as he takes this new artwork into account.
“When did you get all this?” he asks.
“Couple of weeks ago. I found this amazing tattoo artist back home. I gave her an idea of what I was looking for. She drew it up, and I was in love with it instantly. Jenna is the shit,” I say, trying to hold back my control as I feel his breath making its way back up my side to go over the entire new tattoo. I know what he wants to do, but I think all this is just about control for him, so I don’t say anything and let him continue his adventure.
“I’m going to have to memorize this one as well,” he says, moving back down my side and then back to my belly button. He gets to my pants, undoes the button, and pulls the zipper down. I am a little shocked by the feeling of his hands being on me after not touching me for what seems like an eternity. He pulls my pants down my legs very slowly, and at the same time, I feel my control slipping.
“Do you want to sleep with all your . . . delicates on?” his voice is even shakier now.
I lift my head up and support my weight on my elbows.
“My delicates? You mean my underwear and bra?” I say with a small laugh. Delicates? That’s just adorable.
“I can do it,” and push myself up to stand and take care of just that.
“No . . . let me, darlin’,” he says, and he isn’t asking me. I stop from getting up, and his hands are on upper stomach, running slowly, skimming across my skin around my ribcage. They have made their way to the clasp of my bra. This should be fun; men can never work bras. It’s actually pretty funny, but right now, I don’t want to laugh. He leans into my space, so he can get both hands on the back of my bra, and he hovers above my face. Our lips are inches from each other, but just like that, my bra is off and being placed with my things. He
stands and watches me lay with my eyes closed, but I’m not asleep. He tugs on my hand to get me to sit up. He puts my tank top over my head and helps guide my arms into the holes. He takes a steps back and looks me over once. He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything and turns to walk out of the room.
Oh.
Well, that’s disheartening, and I go to stand up to get ready for bed.
Hearing the bed creak as I get up, he stops at the door. “Sit back down please.” Again it’s not a question.
This striptease has me on all kinds of edges, and I’m starting to feel a little vulnerable. But I sit back down on the bed.
After a few moments, Kevin returns with something in his hand. He sets it on the bed and orders me to raise my arms. He pulls my tank top back over my head, grabs what he brought off the bed, places it over my head, and helps me put my arms through the sleeves once again. I am overcome with Kevin’s smell. Oh hell, that’s good.
He lets the hem of the top fall to my waist before he slides his hands underneath and hooks two fingers into the waistband of my underwear.
“Lift,” is all he says, and I comply fully.
He slides my panties down so slowly I think I’m going to scream out of frustration. He stands up with my panties hanging from one of his fingers and smiles that smile just for me.
Well what happens now? It’s, by my guess, after 6 a.m. He takes my hand and pulls me up to my feet and into his chest.
“You are in my home, in my shirt, with nothing on underneath it. Do you have any idea the thoughts that are running through my head right now?” he asks as he closes his eyes and presses his forehead against mine.
“I can think of a couple of things off the top of my head,” I say.
Ew. I sound a tad bit too desperate.
“Hmm.” He sounds like he is right there with me. “In you get, darlin’.”
Shit.
I don’t say anything as I pull the comforter and sheet back and crawl in. Oohhh this is heaven, I think to myself as I sink into the mattress.
Kevin walks over to the window and pulls the heavy curtains shut, effectively shutting the morning sun out.
“Good morning, Kevin . . . Thank you for everything. It really is beautiful here,” I say with yet another yawn and close my eyes.
“Good morning, May. I’m going to go to bed myself. Make yourself at home, ya hear?” he says, bracing his hand on the side of the door frame and grabbing on to the door handle.
“Yes, sir,” I mock.
As soon as he shuts the door, I’m asleep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I wake up a little panicky because I experience that moment of not knowing where the hell I am, but it quickly fades away as the smell of Kevin makes its way around me. I could bottle that smell and sell it; it’s that great. When I roll over to lay on my side, I see a faint outline of someone.
“Kevin?” I ask
“Good evening, darlin’,” he responds.
He is sitting in the rocking chair and watching me. I would be creeped out if it was anyone else but not Kevin. I feel safe with him.
“How long have I been sleeping? And how long have you been in here?” I ask, sitting up and leaning against all the pillows.
I can see his face better now that my eyes have adjusted to the light that is coming in from the open bedroom door.
He isn’t looking at me. He has one foot hitched over his knee, and his hands rest peacefully on the arms of the rocking chair.
“You talk in your sleep, May,” he says softly.
“Oh, I didn’t know that I did that. Christ what did I say?” I’m worried.
“You talked about Officer Davis . . . and Paul . . . and me.”
Oh shit. Paul has never said anything about me talking me in my sleep before. I start to feel that self-consciousness creep back in.
“Well, I don’t know what to say to that.” I’m being honest
“Who is Officer Davis?” he asks quietly.
“He was the officer that got . . .” My hand is on my scar.
“Stabbed when you did,” he finishes my sentence for me.
I officially have no idea what to say next. I push the covers off me and swing my legs over to the side with my back to Kevin. I look down at the bedside table. I see a glass of water and what looks like Aleve. I am sore beyond belief. I haven’t gotten in that many incidences in one night in a very long time. I take the Aleve and a huge drink of water.
“Why don’t you talk about it? It obviously is still with you, and I don’t just mean the scar.”
Why on God’s green earth is this the first topic of discussion of the day?
“Because it changed me, Kevin. From that day on, I knew that I wasn’t going to be used or someone’s victim ever fucking again. And for that to happen, I have to keep that with me as a reminder. Happy?” I’m pissed. He wasn’t there. He has no idea.
I stand up, take his shirt off, and throw it on the bed while grabbing the shorts and tank top that he pulled out of my bag last night. I walk out of the room and into the bathroom across the hall. This is how we are going to follow up our crazy night, with an even more shit conversation? I splash some water on my face to try to wake me up further. This is not how I saw this going at all.
I walk out of the bathroom, and my ears pull me towards the kitchen as I hear Kevin rooting around in there. I walk lightly up to the kitchen door and peer around the corner. Kevin is facing the stove with his back to me hard at work.
The floor creaks, and it gives my position away. I see the muscles constrict in Kevin’s back, but he doesn’t turn around.
I walk out and lean on to the doorframe unaware of where we stand at this time. I cross my arms in front of my chest and take a big breath in.
“Why did you bring that up? You know what it does to me to talk about it . . . so why?” I need to know.
He stops what he’s doing and turns to me while wiping his hands on a small hand towel. He doesn’t walk over to me but instead leans against the countertop and looks at me.
“Do you know how fucked in the head that is?” he says pointing his finger towards my scar.
“Has it ever happened to you?” I ask, completely serious. If this needs to be done, so be it. Let’s do it and get it over with.
“No,” he says quietly.
“Okay then. You have no idea what it feels like to be a victim. And sure, many victims don’t have physical scars, but they have mental and with help, they can be worked out sometimes; however, they don’t ever forget it . . . and guess what. Every time I go to take a shower, I am reminded of it. Every time. So don’t you dare think for one second that you can just dismiss what happened to me as the need for physiological help, and I will be cured. How fucking dare you.”
I cannot believe this is happening.
I feel the tears on the edge of falling out of my eyes, and I need to save myself. I need to leave. This was all a mistake, and I shouldn’t have come here.
I want to do my daily scream, but I can’t find the function to do so. I head back into my room and grab a pair of jean shorts, another bra, and a tank top out of my bag. I get dressed quickly and shove everything in my bag. I make the bed, fold Kevin’s t-shirt, and lay it on the freshly made bed. Pulling my flip flops out of my bag, I drop them to the floor and slip them on. I sit on the bed, going over everything that was just said and am completely beside myself. I still can’t believe this is happening.
I lug all bags onto my shoulders, grab my purse, and make my way out of the bedroom. As I pass the kitchen door, I see that Kevin is no longer in there. That’s fine with me. I open the front door, and I am relieved and disappointed at the same time when I don’t see Kevin out on the porch.
It hits me.
Kevin is letting me go.
I feel sick at this realization, but I make myself move out of the door and shut it quietly behind me. I walk to my car and pop the trunk. I throw everything in and slam it shut trying to relieve some of this ang
er that is building in me.
I open the driver’s side door, and I stop. I happen to look out towards the direction of the stable and see Kevin on a horse. Oh, holy Hell. Just when I thought he couldn’t be any sexier, he gets on a horse with a cowboy hat. I shake the memory of being with him away and get into the car. I shut the door and risk another glance in his direction. He has seen me and is now in an all-out sprint on the horse towards me. His hat is flapping on his back, and he is in a hurry. I make out his lips that he is yelling, “MAY!” but I can’t hear him.
Now he can feel what it was like for me watching him drive away months ago.
I start my rental, put it in reverse, swing the car around, put it in drive, and take off down the dirt driveway towards the main road. When I get to the road, I’m not sure if I go left or right, and with a glance in the rearview mirror, I see Kevin making his way down the driveway still on his horse.
I can’t.
I can’t leave it like this again. All the questions and the what-ifs will be way too hard.
I put the car in park and get out.
I turn to look and see where he is. He is coming to a slow gallop about fifty feet away from me. While the horse is still moving forward a little slower, he dismounts into an all-out run to me. Tears stream down my face as if each left at the same time. I take off towards him as well.
When we reach each other, we slam into one another with all the force we have.
“May, don’t ever fucking do that again . . . Do you hear me?” he says out of breath. He grabs the back of my neck and pulls, so I look at him.
“Don’t make me,” is all I say to him.
As we look into each other’s eyes, a roll of thunder breaks from overhead.
We don’t move. Nothing can move us from this moment, this moment of complete and brutal truth.
“I don’t want to see you hurt any more goddammit! Let it go and just be happy . . . please? When I was at your house with you, I felt everything you weren’t saying, and it fucking killed me. I love you so much, but you are hurting, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. Do you know how that feels?”
Need You, Need Me (The Need Series Book 1) Page 13
