Make Me Yours (Top Shelf Romance Book 4)

by Devney Perry

  “Jesus, woman. You can’t do that.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do.” My lips touch his skin as I speak.

  “You need a shower.”

  My fingers rest against his chest, and I resist the urge to grope him sexually. If I felt better, I would take the opportunity to cop a feel and get lost in him. “I need a lot of things. Can you get me a new body to start?”

  “Your body is perfect.”

  “Cancer,” I remind him, finally lifting my head and leaning back against the cabinets. Clearly, it isn’t as perfect as it seems on the outside.

  He rears up on his knees and studies me. “Can you walk?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t tried.”

  He holds his hands out to me after he climbs to his feet. “Let’s try.”

  I glance up at him, watching him watch me. I really don’t know how I’ll get off the floor without him, so I slide my hands in his and let him haul me to my feet. Although my legs feel weak, I don’t feel as sick as I did when I first got home after chemo.

  “Good.” He wraps an arm around my back and holds me upright. I smile at him, truly happy to be standing, even with his help. “Let’s take a few steps. Test your legs a bit.”

  I nod and take a step forward, feeling my knees shake when I try to put weight on them. “I feel better.”

  He grips my side tighter because he knows I’m lying and moves forward. “How about a bath?”

  The thought of relaxing in a bubble bath makes me want to cry happy tears. “Yes.”

  “Together.”

  I stop moving and narrow my eyes at him. He can’t be serious. “Bruno, we’re not having sex.”

  “I’m not an idiot. But there’s no way I’m leaving you alone. So I can either get in with you or watch. Which one do you prefer?”

  “Together?” I blurt out, freaked out by the idea.

  He starts moving again, ushering me toward the master bathroom. “Yeah.”

  “I know many people won’t say it to you, but you know you’re an asshole, right?”

  “I do.” He kisses the top of my head and laughs.

  After he starts the water, he strips with no shame or care in the world. “Do you want me to help you?” he asks, kicking his pants to the side and tucking them underneath the vanity. Naked as a jaybird, he stands there with his hands on his hips as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

  “You mean with all this?” I ask, touching the bottom of my baggy T-shirt and tease him to ease my anxiety. I’ve always called it my lucky shirt, but really, it’s a ratty old college T-shirt. I stole it from a jock I had a one-night stand with and never bothered to return it. “I think I got it.”

  “No.” He places his hands on mine and stops me. “Let me.”

  “You’re still not getting laid.”

  He starts to lift my shirt and ignores my comment completely. “I’ve decided something.”

  “What?” I ask once the shirt’s clear from my face.

  “I like when you have an attitude.”

  I let out a little laugh. “You’d have one too if someone broke in to your house and wouldn’t leave.”

  “Cal.” He stands me up, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling my panties to the floor. “Is that what you think?”

  I feel dirty. Here he’s helping me, being sweet, and I put on my bitch mask and toss out comments as if he doesn’t have feelings. “No,” I admit, completely ashamed. “Well, maybe at first. But you’re growing on me.” I smile down at him, resting my hands on his shoulders as I step out of my underwear.

  He grunts and lifts me into his arms, bringing me with him to the tub. Even though part of me wants to protest, I relax against him and enjoy his warmth and strength. Slowly, he lowers us into the water, paying careful attention not to fall in the process, for which I’m thankful.

  “Is it too hot?” he asks when I hiss as my ass hits the hot water.

  “No. It’s good. Just need to get used to it.”

  He rests my bottom against his legs, gently splashing the hot water against my skin. “Better?”

  “Much.” I smile softly and melt against him, feeling completely at peace.

  “In ya go.” He adjusts me, sliding me between his legs before pulling me back against him.

  I sag into him, letting the water caress my skin and enjoying the feel of his hard body behind me. Another time in my life and I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off him, but now, I’m too sick to think of anything more than comfort.

  We sit like this for a while. I rest against him as he splashes water on my skin, dragging his hands down my arms. The water drips from the faucet and the echo is loud and oddly soothing.

  He cages me in with his legs and I place my arms against his knees and relax. “When’s your next round of chemo?”

  “You want to chaperone?” I know it sounds cold and bitchy, but really, it’s the last thing I want to think about.

  “I’m taking you,” he growls, his lips touching my shoulder as he speaks, his words crashing over me. I find I’m oddly content about it.

  “You still haven’t answered why, Bruno.”

  His arms tighten around my body, just under my chest. His mouth is against my ear as he speaks. “You’re not afraid of me.”

  I shiver in his arms as his voice skids across my skin. “It’s that simple?” I really am scared of him, but not for the same reasons I used to be.

  “No, but it’s a start.”

  “I know who you are and what you do.”

  “No. You don’t.”

  I turn slightly, my lips almost brushing against his mouth when I do. “But I do.” I look into his eyes and see the pain behind them even though he tries to hide it.

  “You don’t. You think you know everything about me, but you don’t, Cal.”

  “I do,” I argue, maintaining eye contact. I still haven’t been able to get the conversation he had with Lee out of my head.

  His hand finds its way to my cheek, and he cradles my face gently. “You don’t.”

  I can see he isn’t going to relent. “They call you ‘The Butcher,’ Bruno. I think it’s pretty clear.”

  His eyes flash, the darkness quickly vanishing before his cheeks almost touch the corners of his eyes. His body begins to shake and then his laughter grows. “Everyone calls me ‘The Butcher’? Really? I thought it was just the people in my circle and not the general pop like yourself.”

  I nod and my stomach begins to flop. “Yeah. Everyone does.”

  “That is,” he laughs louder, still holding my face, “the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  My eyes widen and I’m caught off guard when his words trail off. “You didn’t know?” I whisper and suddenly feel horrible for breaking the news to him.

  He stops laughing long enough to speak, but the smile on his face is the biggest I’ve ever seen and it’s beautiful. “No one has ever had the balls to tell me, either. Only my friends call me that.”

  I would feel guiltier if he weren’t laughing his ass off, so I start laughing too. “I can’t believe you didn’t know.”

  “I like it,” he admits and brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, his eyes following the path.

  I laugh; partly out of nervousness that he’s touching me, and partly that he likes the nickname that makes people shake when he walks by. “If people saw you right now, you’d lose all credibility.”

  His eyebrows rise and his head jerks back slightly. “I would?”

  “You’re taking a bath, caring for me, and being so gentle. It’s not very butcher-like.”

  “I do have an image to maintain, don’t I? Let’s keep this our little secret.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “Hey,” he whispers, his face growing serious. “You know it’s not true, right?”

  I swallow down my fear. This conversation has me on edge. “You haven’t killed people, you mean?” It’s an awkward topic to talk about when you’re naked with a man and co
mpletely at his mercy.

  “Yeah.”

  “If you say so.” I fake smile at him, but I’m not convinced.

  “I mean, I never use a knife, so it’s not true.”

  My mouth falls open in shock. “Well.”

  “Jesus, you’re so fucking easy.” He laughs again. “I’m not a murderer, Cal.”

  Well, that’s a surprising admission, but I’m still not sold. You can’t have that nickname and his looks without doing some pretty nasty shit. “Okay.” My voice is tiny, but I’m not about to argue.

  “How do you feel?” he asks, his finger caressing the sides of my neck, making tiny circles against my skin.

  “Better,” I admit. I realize that for the last few minutes, I haven’t even thought about how I feel or that I have it.

  His lips find their way to my forehead and press hard against me as he holds my face in his hands. “Good,” he says against my skin before backing away. “Let’s get out before you’re a prune and I lose all sense of who I am. I do have an image to uphold.”

  “I won’t tell,” I blurt out, half kidding but really not because I’d never talk to anyone about Bruno.

  Bruno carefully carries me from the tub and rests me against the counter before he dries me off. I should do it on my own, but it feels nice for someone else to take care of me for once. The old me would have had a fit. I shouldn’t need anyone as much as I need him. But for once, I have nothing left to fight about and no strength to do it either.

  Life isn’t turning out to be everything I expected.

  Bruno isn’t who I think. Did I believe that he wasn’t “The Butcher”? Fuck, no. You don’t get the rep without there being some truth to it. But he isn’t the boogeyman either. He’s soft, tender, even. His strength during my time of need gives me solace and leaves me wanting more.

  But I’m afraid I need him. Crave the strength he gives me. I can’t stop thinking about his words after he places me in bed and curls his body around mine.

  He isn’t who I thought he was. Who is he?

  I know I’ll find out, but do I really want to know?

  His strong, warm, protective arms feel too good to stay awake. The last thing I remember is hearing him whisper, “You’re going to survive.”

  Stage 3 Continued—One Step Back

  Another week of my life passes in a blur. Sitting at my second chemo treatment, I think about everything that has happened since I heard the devastating news.

  Material things no longer matter.

  I’m not as strong as I thought, but I am.

  Bruno has become a fixture in my life.

  Shutting people out isn’t possible any longer.

  I want to live.

  Over the course of the last week, Rebecca and Bruno have kept me busy. I’ve regained my strength and have begun feeling more like myself again with their help.

  Rebecca wasn’t happy that Bruno was around at first, but he grew on her slowly.

  “There’s something about him,” she insists, sitting on a stool in front of my chemo chair, moving back and forth using her feet.

  “What do you mean?” I play dumb because I know where she’s going.

  She taps her finger against her lip and the wrinkles on her forehead deepen. “I can’t describe it, but there’s something that—”

  “I know.” I grab a cracker from the table and jam it in my mouth before I say something more.

  “I still don’t like him around you.”

  I swallow down the dry crumbs in my mouth. “Bec, he’s harmless,” I lie, but I find it easier the more I do it. After spending so much time with him, I almost believe my own bullshit.

  Her nose wrinkles and she shakes her head quickly. “He’s not, Cal. He’s scary and dangerous.”

  I laugh at her absurdity. A couple of weeks ago, I would’ve said the same thing. I would’ve never let him inside, but now, I’ve seen another side of him, one that only gives me comfort. “He hasn’t killed me yet, so I think I’m safe.”

  The stool squeaks and she comes closer. “But his people…” she whispers.

  I gasp and cover my mouth, totally playing with her. “He has people?”

  “Yeah.” She nods with a very serious look on her face. “He does.”

  I move my face closer to hers and drop my voice so only she can hear. “Does he keep them in cages?”

  “Be serious,” she tells me and scowls.

  “Bec.” I laugh, leaning back and relaxing. “Bruno isn’t at all what we thought.”

  “Illusions are dangerous. They reel you in, and at the last minute…” She makes a cutting motion across her throat.

  “You’re so dramatic.” I laugh it off. If Bruno wanted to hurt me, I wouldn’t be here. He’s the gentlest man I’ve ever met.

  “Nurse,” Becca calls out and points at me. “Does chemo mess with the brain?”

  Her lips purse and she looks confused. “Excuse me?”

  Becca waves her hand in front of me. “Can it mess with her mind? Her thinking has been altered.”

  “Should I grab a doctor?” she asks and starts to move toward me with her hands outstretched.

  I put my hands between us and stop her, shooting a pissy look at Becca. “I’m fine, Nurse Bobby.” I look at her tag to make sure I use the right name. “My friend is just being dramatic.”

  She’s looking back and forth between us. “Are you sure, dear?”

  “Becca, tell the woman I’m fine.” My jaws clenches.

  Becca spins around on the stool, acting more mental than I am. “Oh, she’s fine,” she starts to say and stops her stool so she’s facing Nurse Bobby. “She’s dating a guy we call ‘The Butcher.’ So clearly her thinking is perfect.”

  Poor Bobby. She looks confused as shit and a little frightened. “Oh dear.” Her eyes look around the room, and I know she wants to get away but doesn’t.

  “I mean, what’s not to love about a man who kills people for a living, right, Bobby?” Becca laughs like a loon.

  “Um…” Bobby mumbles.

  “Bobby, you can go. Becca is having a moment. A very dumb moment that she’ll regret later.”

  “Why, are you going to send him after me?” She covers her mouth, pretending to be in a panic and acting like a tool.

  I glance up at Bobby and smile. “Leave us for a bit. My friend is just playing a very unfunny game.”

  “Okay,” she whispers and starts to back away, but she keeps her eyes on us. “But if you need me, just holler.”

  “Becca.” My voice is firm and unwavering.

  “Callie.”

  “You’re a dope.”

  “She’s too easy, and I swear you’re going off the deep end.”

  “Let’s not forget whose fault that is?”

  “Yours,” she replies with a guilty smile.

  “Yours, dumbass.”

  “Just be careful with him, babe.”

  “You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

  “What?” she asks, tilting her head as if she doesn’t know what I’m talking about, even though she clearly does.

  “You said there’s something about him. You know that he isn’t what we think. You can feel it.”

  “I don’t know what I think or feel anymore. He’s still dangerous. That I know for sure. But there’s something I can’t put my finger on. Something doesn’t quite fit.”

  “All I know is that he’s helped me more than I can ever explain.”

  “Have you fucked him?”

  I can’t hide my smile.

  Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. “Jesus, Cal, I can’t believe you.”

  I laugh at her fake angst, but I know she’s going to ask for details. “Don’t tell me if you had the chance, you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

  “Well, yeah. Duh. Bucket list.”

  “How would you have listed him?”

  “Have hot monkey sex with a scary criminal.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “Says the gir
l who’s done it.” She scoots closer. “So how was it?”

  “What?”

  “Hot?”

  I sigh because it was and more. “Yeah.” I smile, remembering exactly how sexy it had been.

  “I hate you sometimes.” She laughs and slaps my leg playfully.

  “Want to switch lives?” I feel guilty as soon as it leaves my mouth.

  Her laughter dies. “I would.”

  “I would never wish this on you, Bec.”

  “But I’d switch places with you in a heartbeat. You’re my best friend. I can’t have anything happening to you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  When I woke up this morning, I made a pact with God. I know it sounds insane, and maybe I am losing my mind, but dammit—anything is worth a shot. I promised Him that if He saved me, if He spared me from death, that I’d devote my life to finding a cure so no one else has to go through what I have been for last three weeks.

  I told Him I’d even give up my shoe obsession, stop buying purses en masse, and give my all to stopping the disease from slowly killing off humanity. I’ll become motherfuckin’ Mother Teresa if it means I’ll survive.

  Sitting among the other cancer patients and watching how graceful they are gives me renewed energy. They aren’t falling apart and too afraid to live.

  If they can push through and show strength, so can I.

  With Rebecca by my side and Bruno insinuating himself into my world, I feel like anything’s possible.

  Poison

  Bruno’s at my apartment waiting for us when we walk up the steps. Pacing in front of my door like a caged animal, he’s muttering softly to himself.

  Becca and I both stop dead when we see him. “Bruno?”

  He freezes and turns on his heels to face us. “Fuck, Cal. I’ve been worried.”

  “About?” I ask, taking a step closer and holding Becca back with one arm.

  He comes closer, reaching out for me with a wild look in his eyes. “You.”

  My cheek presses against his palm and I close my eyes. “I was at chemo. I told you about it.”

  “I wanted to take you,” he tells me and runs his thumb down the apple of my cheek.

  I glance up at him and smile, trying to make him relax. “Becca took me. I was in good hands.”