Fuck me. This is torture.
“Where is the bathroom?” she asks, and my head shoots up from her tits to her face. I can see a small smile on her face. The little shit knew I was watching the whole time.
“It’s straight across the room. Want me to show you?”
She nods, so I grab her hand to help her off the bed. She is counting the steps to the bathroom under her breath. I lead her inside and place her hand on the sink, toilet, even the shower so she knows where everything is.
She grabs my forearm and glides her hand down so she is holding my hand, and smiles, “I want to thank you for everything. Seriously, most people wouldn’t have been this generous.”
I don’t answer her. Instead, I glide my hand up her arm to her neck until I’m clutching her face. I place my lips on her forehead. What is wrong with me? I never act like this. I back out of the room, pulling the door closed behind me, and walk over to the bed and slip out of my pants, leaving me only in my boxers.
Pulling back the blankets on the bed, I climb in. I lie back onto the pillows with my arms behind my head. The door creaks slightly as she walks out of the bathroom. Her mouth moves as she counts. When she reaches the bed, she climbs on and crawls up toward me.
I touch her arms, causing her to jump slightly. Then I pick her up and set her on the bed beside me. “You’re sleeping here, too?” The confusion and nervousness are clear in her voice.
“It’s a big bed,” I tell her and try not to look at her tits, because her nipples are hard again.
She blushes. I grin. Then she grabs the end of the blanket, sticks her feet under it, and pulls it up under her chin, then up and around her face. She is so wrapped up in the blanket I can only see half of her face.
“You’re staring. I feel it,” she mumbles and closes her eyes.
“Yeah.” I drop down onto my pillows and clap to turn off the bedroom lights. This is the first time I have slept in the same bed with a woman since my daughter’s mother was around. She had Paisley, handed her to me, and said she was too young to have a kid; and that was that. She left without looking back. I wasn’t taking a chance for her to take my baby girl away from me, so I made sure she signed her rights away.
I raised my baby girl from day one, paid a babysitter when I worked all day. Then I came home and took care of her. Been with her through every sickness, her first steps, all of her scrapes and cuts, at her first day of school. All of her firsts. I also made sure she was raised following the values in life and owning the self-respect so many girls lack nowadays.
Three years ago was when one of my worst nightmares almost became reality, but thankfully, my baby girl was saved before anything could happen. That day changed her life forever, as it did mine. She wasn’t my same daughter for a long time. She wasn’t as innocent and it broke my heart. Then she started taking kickboxing and self-defense classes and changed before my eyes. She is now even more confident than she was before the attack, because she now knows she is able to defend herself. The bastard who tried to hurt her isn’t breathing any longer; but now she is at college surrounded by dickheads. Fuck me.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Kayla interrupts my thoughts.
“My daughter.”
“Is something wrong?”
I look over at her. She has her eyes closed, looking incredibly comfortable with her hair splayed out behind her on the pillow.
“No, I miss the little shit,” I tell her honestly.
She laughs out loud and grins from ear-to-ear. “I bet she’s beautiful.”
Thinking about her, I smile. “She really is. Too beautiful. I had to chase too many pretty boys away from her.” She used to get so mad, but if a guy liked her enough, he wouldn’t have given in so easily. Pussies. All of them pussies.
Kayla laughs again and rubs her eyes. “I bet she loved that.”
“She hated it, but I don’t give a shit. Those boys aren’t good enough for my baby girl,” I answer gruffly, thinking about the guys trying to catch her. She’s never getting married if I can help it.
“Aww!” Kayla drawls out and turns over, facing me. She reaches out her hands until it hits my chest then moves it up until she touches my cheeks and gives them both a squeeze. “That’s so sweet!”
Rolling my eyes, I move her hands from my cheeks, but I don’t let go of them. “Get some sleep.”
“Night, Torch.”
“Good night, sweetheart.”
***
In the middle of the night I sense something is wrong. I lay still and listen for what woke me up. I hear soft crying and click on the bedside lamp. Kayla is clutching her pillow and blanket to her as hard as she can.
“Please, let me go.” She sobs and buries her head in the pillow like she is trying to hide from her dreams. I know what happened earlier today is messing with her dreams. It haunts her, and it pisses me the fuck off that something so tragic has happened to her to be affected like this. Nobody should be scared like that.
I touch her back gently, trying to wake her without freaking her the fuck out. “Kayla, shh. You’re dreaming. Wake up, baby.” I shake her back gently.
Her eyes shoot open and her mouth opens wide as she gasps for air. She runs her hands up and down her body and then covers her face, letting out deep breaths.
“Torch?” she softly calls for me.
I reach out and hug her to me. I can’t resist. “Right here.” My mouth touches the crown of her head. She sighs and burrows her chest into my shoulder.
I can’t resist asking her. “Baby, what were you dreaming?”
Her whole entire body stiffens before it starts to tremble.
I hold her tightly, as if I could stop her from shaking.
“I was dreaming I was kidnapped. That I wasn’t rescued. And they were doing horrible things to me.” Her head shakes from side to side like she is trying to force the images out of her head. It fucking makes me mad that she has to feel this way. What gives a man the fucking right to take what isn’t theirs? The earth should be rid of scum like that, the world would be a better fucking place; and I am just the fucking man to do that.
“I won’t make you, baby, but I am here if you need to talk.” I rub her back soothingly. She nods, her shoulders shaking. She’s crying. I can’t deal with tears. They make me feel helpless; and I fucking hate that.
Kayla
I’m crying against Torch’s shoulder. He saw me have a nightmare. It’s so fucking embarrassing. I’m more than embarrassed. I’m afraid he will look at me differently. Those men terrified me. I knew what was going to happen to me. They belong to a trafficking ring.
I had a shitty life growing up until I moved in with my grandparents when I was eleven years old. My dad loved to torture me because I was blind. He would purposely move things in front of me as I was walking, so I would fall and get hurt. He would throw things and hit me in the face, because I couldn’t see them coming. It was pure hell. I walked on eggshells, and to this day I still do. It’s engrained in me.
My mother isn’t a great mother, she didn’t protect me then like a mother should, so I suffered the consequences. She only worried about him. He’s all she cares about. He treats her like shit, treated her kid like shit; it seemed like the more he hurt her or me, the more she loved him.
When I stop crying, I fall back asleep against Torch’s shoulder, exhausted. I take comfort in this man’s arms, which is something I haven’t ever allowed myself to do before. I am a thirty-year-old woman and have had one lover in my life, but I kicked him out when we were done having sex. Well, when he was done. I was just a warm body. I have a hard time trusting and letting people in.
CHAPTER THREE
Kayla
“Wake up, baby,” Torch grumbles in his sleepy voice. Cracking my eyes open, all I see is darkness. I wish more than anything I could see, but it’s not possible. My optometrist says it’s impossible, though I’m afraid he isn’t a very good doctor.
“Morning.” I ru
b my eyes and feel what I’m lying on. I’m completely on top of Torch, my legs on either side of him, my face against his bare, naked, muscular chest. I blush and lift myself off of him.
Fingers touch my cheeks, and I bet they turn even redder. I have always been a blusher, or so I’ve been told, and can feel the burn as they get hotter.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Torch pulls me back down onto his chest and rubs his hands up and down my bare back, because my shirt has ridden up. My panties must be showing, but I can’t bring myself to be embarrassed. Who could be embarrassed of something they haven’t ever seen?
What a way to wake up, though. I could get used to this.
That’s a scary thought.
My life went from boring to out of control in a split second. I’m not sure how to deal. I was almost kidnapped yesterday, and then I was sort of…err…kidnapped by Torch, if you could call it that. He carried me over his shoulder against my will. So I guess it would be called kidnapped.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” I finally answer him. His hand goes to my butt, then he sits up in bed and slides off, carrying me with him when he stands up. I’m going to actively ignore his morning wood pressing against some place that desperately wants it.
My arms go around his neck when I feel us going down the stairs. “Please, don’t drop me!” I hold tighter. If I’m going down, he’s going with me.
He chuckles and holds me tighter in his arms. It’s more like his hands tightening on my butt. Once we reach the bottom, he walks for a few seconds before he sets me on a counter top. I can tell from the coldness of the surface and my feet dangling off the ground.
I can tell he opens the fridge by the clatter of stuff moving around along with glass jars hitting against each other.
“Let me help. I cook all the time at my house.” I scoot to the edge of the bar and stretch my feet down until I touch the ground. But before I can push myself off the counter, Torch grabs my hips and pushes me back.
His hand touches my face. “Let me take care of you,” he whispers, and I swear I can feel his breath right at my lips. Gulping, I let out a deep sigh because of how close to my lips he is. “Okay.”
He lets go of me and goes back to work. The room is silent besides the noises of him frying bacon and moving throughout the room. Things are scraping the top of the counter, hitting against each other. It’s silent, and I start to feel nervous when I don’t know what’s happening around me.
My life has changed so much in the past day. I feel like I’m getting whiplash. Usually, I’m rolling out of bed and into my kitchen to prepare breakfast myself. I have everything in my kitchen memorized, know all the spices by taste, scent, and feel. If I know my surroundings, I can take care of myself, but this is different altogether. I can’t remember the last time someone made me breakfast.
Being blind is exactly how it sounds. You go into every situation completely blind, exposed, and vulnerable. You don’t know what’s directly in front of you, you can’t see if something is coming toward you or is going to hurt you. I have been knocked down by people too many times to count. I have been taunted. I have gone into the wrong stores, because people have given me the wrong directions just to be mean.
I don’t want pity, as I’m not helpless. If there’s a will, there’s a way. But every blind person knows the fear I’m talking about. I don’t have family to help me, but I do what I need to do. I have made it for twelve years by myself and will continue to do so.
I must admit being taken care of like this feels nice. Beyond nice, though it isn’t expected. Torch continues to shock me. I’m not used to this. When I lived at home with my parents, I lived off of meals that came from a box or a bag. My grandmother attempted to cook for me, but she was old, so cooking didn’t come easy to her.
“It’s ready,” Torch interrupts my thoughts, and I move my head in the direction of his voice.
I step down off the counter, and his hand touches my forearm to lead me to the dining room table. The seat makes a noise as he pulls it out for me. “The chair is directly beside you.” Smiling to myself, I duck my head before he can see. I sit down and touch the edge of the table.
I hear him walk out of the room and then back in. He sets a plate in front of me as well as something else. “Your fork’s on the right side of your plate, and your milk is in front of that.”
His chair scoots out beside me, and I hear it creak as he sits down. I lift my hand in front of me and to the right. It touches my pancake and the syrup gets on my fingers.
Torch grabs my hand, and I think he’s going to lead me to my fork. But instead, he sticks my fingers into his mouth to get rid of the syrup. I gasp at the feel of his mouth on my skin. I can’t believe he did that. “I can’t believe you did that,” I voice my thoughts.
“Believe it.” He chuckles and sets my hand on my fork.
I shake my head in disbelief then cut up my pancake and run my fork over the pieces to gauge how large they are before I stab a piece and take a bite. Mmmm, homemade. He can cook, too? How is he still single?
“I’ll do the dishes. Just show me where they are.” I suggest once I finish my food.
“No, I’ll do them.” He starts to take my plate away, but I grip the sides so he isn’t able to.
“No, I’ll do it,” I tell him more sternly and stand up.
I turn in the direction of the kitchen, because I know that much. Torch grunts, and I can actually hear him grinding his teeth. Hmm. He must not like being told no. I shall do that more often.
“No,” he growls again and tries to lead me back to my seat.
“Torch, I swear to goodness, let me do the fucking dishes!” I say to him, louder.
Then he starts laughing, and I almost do, too, because it’s contagious. “Damn, baby, you have some claws.” I can almost imagine his smirk. He seems like a guy who smirks.
“You bet.” I wink. “Now, show me the sink.”
During the next few minutes, I wash the dishes while he puts them away.
I set the dishcloth on the counter once I’m done. Torch’s hands grip my own and he turns me around so I’m facing him. His arm bands around my waist, and he sets my hand on his shoulder. Then his other hand holds my right hand in his. A song comes over the radio. From the Ground Up by Dan + Shay.
My heart stops in my chest as he starts to sway from side to side with me in his arms.
Who is this person? I just met him, so why is he holding me like this? What does dancing to a song like this mean?
Torch presses his lips to my forehead, and I close my eyes when I almost start crying. This moment is so emotional. I don’t get it.
As the song continues, he sways with me from side to side. I lay my head on his chest, feeling content; it’s a strange feeling. "I know this sounds crazy to you, baby, but I want to see where this leads. I want you to be mine," Torch murmurs against the top of my head. My heart stops at his words, yet I know I want this. If he is half as good to me as he is now, I want nothing more. I want it all. All he will give me and I will give him all of me.
I raise my head toward his and smile. "I want nothing more.”
It's time for me to take a leap of faith for once and face the unknown. It’s a scary thing facing the mysterious, but it’s time for me to live. I realized yesterday how quickly your life could be taken away.
“Good, ‘cause I won’t take no for an answer.” He chuckles and pinches my butt. I laugh and smack his chest. Grinning, I tuck a stray hair behind my ear. Torch tightens his hand on mine and leads me out of the kitchen. I count my steps as I walk along.
When my knees touch the couch, I turn around and sit down. I feel Torch sit down beside me. One of his arms goes under my legs and the other behind my back, lifting me up into his lap. I sigh and tuck my head in the crook of his neck, where I breathe in his woodsy scent. It’s intoxicating.
He trails his fingers up and down my back. Closing my eyes, I relax my whole entire body, enjoying his touch.
> “Do you need to call someone?” Torch asks but doesn’t stop his movements on my back.
“There’s no one to call,” I tell him softly and realize that nobody truly cares about me enough to know if I am dead or alive. It’s sad when you think about it. I’ve never had someone I could count on, especially not since my grandparents died. I am utterly alone in the world.
“No one?” I can hear the disbelief in his voice.
I shake my head against his shoulder.
“I thought I heard you mention you had a mom?” He smoothes my hair over my shoulder, his hand trailing against my neck. Being blind, touch means everything. When someone is touching you, you at least know a bit of what’s happening. Touch lets me see by feeling.
“I do, but we aren’t close,” I tell him simply, hoping he will change the subject.
“Why?”
Shit, I think to myself.
I guess my hope is thwarted. “She’s not the best mom, and I am better off without her. She lives two hours away.” My parents live in a trailer, a trailer that is rat infested. I’ve repeatedly asked her to leave and come stay with me. But she still stays with him. I don’t get her infatuation. He is mean to her every single day, hits her, and made my life hell. She thinks once you are married, you shouldn’t leave, no matter what. It’s a wife’s duty to serve her husband. Puhlease. I would rather be alone for the rest of my life than be with someone who is remotely similar to my father.
Torch stiffens for a second before he lets out a deep breath. “I know there is more to the story. But I won’t pressure you to tell me. For now.”
I heard the for now loud and clear.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kayla
Torch carries me up the stairs for bed. We’ve spent the whole day eating, cuddling on the couch, and just relaxing. Today was one of the best days of my life. I haven’t ever felt this completely at ease before. Safety and security oozes off of him.
TORCH Page 2
