Текст книги "Willing Captive "

Автор книги: Belle Aurora

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

I mentally sigh. Yeah. That wasn’t cool.

Just as I open my mouth to apologize, a shrill siren shrieks throughout the house.

What the frick?

Dropping to my knees, my eyes widen and I cover my ears while hyperventilating. Not a second later, I’m hoisted over Nox’s shoulder. He runs down the hall with me bouncing up and down like a rag doll.

This is serious. Something’s wrong.

Nox shouts orders over the siren, but I can’t make out any of it. That freakin’ siren is so shrill, it’s going to make my ears bleed! All I can do is grip the back of his tank tightly and hold on for dear life.

Petrified and about to pee myself, I lift my head to see Nox run me right out the front door. Right out the front door and into a waiting black van.

No. No. Not again!

With no care at all, he throws me into the back of the van. I land in a seat with an ‘Oomph’ and he quickly seats himself next to me. As soon as the door closes, Nox booms, “Go!”

And we do.

Shaking like a leaf, I turn my wide eyes to my protector and see something familiar in his hands.

Ahh, hello old friend.

Nox holds up the blindfold and I internally grimace. Clearly, now is not the time to argue. Nodding once, I turn my back to him and he places the blindfold over my head. My butt pressed against his thigh, I almost whisper, “Where are we going now?”

He sighs and answers just as softly, “I don’t know, Lily. I don’t know.”

Chapter Eight

One of these things is not like the others

Lily

So here I am, standing in the middle of a dingy motel room.

I’m here after spending almost seven hours in the back of a van with Nox. This might not have been an issue if the guy knew the meaning of the words ‘lighten up’. Alas, this is Nox we’re talking about. The guy’s meaning of relaxed is sitting in a hardwood chair while watching me sleep.

A little creepy if you ask me.

The van stopped suddenly, the back door opened and I found myself being dragged to a motel room that looked like its previous occupants were roaches.

Nox paces in front of me and barks into the cell phone, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not there right now! It’s your job to tell me what the fuck happened!” Pause, then, “Yes, she’s fine.”

Um, hello? Kinda freakin’ out here but whatever…

He stops pacing, looks me up and down and says, “Uh huh.” Pause. “Uh huh.” Pause once more. “Yeah. Okay. Lily needs clothes.” Pause. “I don’t know! Underwear and bras and somethin’ that won’t draw attention to us.” Silence, then, “Nah. Lily’s my wife. I asked them not to disturb us. We’re on our honeymoon.”

My brows almost hit my hairline.

Married?

The thought of being married to Nox is so damn ridiculous that the laughter I try to quell forces its way out. Hard. And loud.

Busting a gut laughing, tears roll down my cheeks as I lean my hip on the small table for two. Nox watches me with a scowl. He does this a long while before he walks over behind me and covers my mouth with his hand. All that does is make me laugh harder. He whispers, “Shut it, Lily. This is important. I can’t hear a thing.”

Finally getting a hold of myself, I suppress the laughter and pull his hand off my mouth. His arm falls lower, across my neck with a hand resting on my shoulder. I try to pull away but Nox has other ideas. As if he doesn’t even realize it, he talks away with his arm still around me. Looking around the room with wide eyes, I’m not sure what to do here. When his thumb absently strokes my shoulder, my core clenches, and my eyes flutter closed.

My breathing deepens as I listen to him speak. Every word he says vibrates through his chest and onto my back. “What do you mean?” Pause. “Well, when can you get here?”

Jeez, he smells so good. Like soap and something fresh and outdoorsy. His body is so big and hard, yet toasty warm. With one arm, he has me wrapped up tight. And I like it. A handful of erotic scenarios run through my head. Nox throwing me on the bed and telling me he’s going to take me right there. Nox pushing me to my knees and demanding I make him hard. Nox joining me in the too-small shower, soaping up my body. Nox bending me over the-

“Lily?”

Suddenly, a record scratches in my brain, rudely ripping me from my delicious thoughts. Whoa. Totally need to give it a rest with the erotic stories.

…But we like them!

My face falls and I mutter, “Books.”

Nox finally lets me free of his clutches and I fight hard not to make a mew or pout from the loss. He says, “What now?”

Heartbreak fills my chest as I explain while sulking, “Books. I didn’t take any books. Now I have no books.”

Every single night at the safe house I’d read before I went to sleep. Nox knows this as he’s been watching me sleep almost every night. The library had become an escape for me. Whenever I went missing, the guys knew where I’d be hiding.

Keeping my eyes to the floor, a large hand squeezes my shoulder, and although it doesn’t make me feel better, it makes me feel better. A little.

Something hard is pushed into my chest and I hold it tight before it falls. Looking down, I gasp when I see not one but two hardcover novels in my grasp.

Disbelief. Total and utter disbelief.

Looking up, I find Nox watching me curiously. I stutter, “H– h– how did you– why did you– I mean it’s not that I’m not thankful, but did– did you know this would happen?”

Sitting on the bed in front of me, he rests his elbows on his knees and links his fingers together. “Didn’t know. But you never know. This shit happens. I’m normally prepared. Wasn’t this time. Sucks for you, princess, because now you got no clothes and we’re in the middle of Bumfuck, Idaho. Next mall is approximately four hours away. Good news is, I got clothes you can wear. Bad news, got no underwear in your size. My shirts are big so they’ll be more like dresses on you.” He makes a face. “My pants. Hell no. Won’t fit, so don’t even try. My boxers you can maybe wear as shorts. They’ll be loose as hell but we’ll improvise.”

Half way through him saying this, my neck got hot and scratchy. The flush reaching all the way up to my scalp.

No clothes. No underwear. For how long?

Swallowing hard, my voice croaks when I ask, “How long for?”

Holding my eyes, he replies, “Three, four days. Unclear.”

Well, that’s just freakin’ dandy!

No clothes. And the workout clothes I’m wearing are stanky. And I mean stanky. As in, block your nose ‘cause the body odors a-comin’ stanky.

Something soft is thrown at my face. I snatch the offending softness off my head to find it’s one of Nox’s tees. It’s dark green, extra-large and says ARMY on the front. He utters, “Wear that over the bra thingy and let’s get somethin’ to eat at the diner downstairs.”

Suddenly self-conscious and moving from foot to foot, I tell him, “I smell really bad, though.”

Walking over to his bag (where the hell did he get a bag from?) he shuffles things around before walking over to me with a can of deodorant. He says, “Ain’t flowery and you’ll smell like me, but it’ll do the trick.”

You’ll smell like me. Yes please! Spraying myself quickly and thoroughly, I throw the can on the bed and walk out the door. As soon as we’re out, Nox closes the door and pulls me close to him. He does this so quickly that I stumble and wrap my arm around his waist for support. Planting a kiss to my temple, he whispers, “We’re newlyweds, remember? When we’re out, always be touchin’ me, holdin’ hands, or some sappy shit like that.” Spying my glare, he says through a forced smile, “Smile for fuck sake. You’re married to me. Happiest day of your life and all that.”

Pinching his waist, hard, I smile, “Oh, honey. The happiest day of my life will be the day I never have to see you again.”

His eyes darken through his smile, he leans forward until we’re nose to nose. Splaying his large hands on my hips, he pulls my body close until we’re flush against each other.

Shit! This is quite possibly one of my fantasies coming to life.

His mouth, a hairs-breadth away from mine. His breath warms my lips when he utters, “Ditto.”

Ugh! Jackass!

Rolling my eyes, he laughs through his nose and says something that I hadn’t thought about. “C’mon, princess. I’m sure you’ve been dying to get out of the house, right? Take advantage of this time while you’ve got it.”

Side-eyeing him, I ask, “Princess my new nickname?”

I see him purse his lips in my peripheral vision. “Not new. Always been one of the Flynn princesses.”

Oh, I get it. “So not really a nickname. More of an insult.”

The corner of his lip lifts, but he doesn’t say a thing. Moron.

We reach the diner looking like a newlywed couple. Smiles, hugs, and happy. No one would guess we’re sweaty, hot, and tired. When I try to sit at the booth, I almost get whiplash when Nox pulls me into the same side as him. Close. The waitress comes over wearing a knowing smile. Before she gets to us, I pinch his thigh and hiss through a fake smile, “Would you stop doing that?”

He places his lips at the shell of my ear and whispers, “You keep pinching me and I might just pinch you somewhere you don’t want to be pinched, baby.”

Well…

That certainly shut me up.

The pretty middle-aged waitress reaches our table and asks, “Are you the newlyweds?”

What the-

Obviously having seen the uncertain look on my face, she laughs sweetly, “Oh, darlin’, this is a small town. Everyone knows everything about everyone.”

Nox pastes on a brilliant smile and holds his hand out, “We sure are. I’m Hank.” He points a thumb over at me. “And this is Maude.”

Hank… and Maude?

Still shaking Nox’s hand, she looks over at me, smiling in acknowledgement.

But I’m still stuck on Hank. And Maude.

Nox finally lets her hand go and she flushes while giggling to me, “Oh, darlin’, if I had me a man as strong and big as he is, I’d never let him go.”

And I just can’t help myself. Wearing a look of utter disappointment, I say dejectedly, “Yeah, you’d think he’d be big all over, but…” I fade out while my eyes drift down to his crotch, leaving her to finish that sentence in her mind. When her smile fades a little, I fight the urge to stick my tongue out at Nox.

My body jerks and my knees bang on the table hard, forcing the cutlery to bounce all over. Suddenly, my butt is throbbing.

The jackass pinched my ass!

Nox forces out a laugh, “Oh, don’t worry about Maude. She’s a joker. It’s what I love about her.”

Looking a little uncomfortable, the waitress hands us our menus and we order. Our meals come in record time and I have to admit, I didn’t realize I was hungry until the smell of bacon wafted up into my nose. The first bite confirms it. I’m starved.

Nox watches me eat and a look of disbelief crosses his features when I finish my plate of eggs, bacon, toast, and pan-fried tomatoes. When I see he’s stopped eating and watching me, I ask, “You gonna eat your pancakes?”

His brows rise, his lip twitches, and without a word, he moves his plate forward.

I douse the pancakes in butter and syrup, licking my lips all the while, then wolf them down. Nox asks in wonderment, “Where the hell does it all go?”

Still chewing, I speak around my food so my reply comes out garbled, “Dad says we have hollow legs.”

Shaking his head, he pushes my orange juice forward and I down it in one hit.

That was a great brunch. I know I look pregnant now, but…so worth it.

Nox flags down our sweet waitress and asks slyly, “Do you think you could organize for a platter of sandwiches to be made up?” He smiles a dirty smile. “We may not want to leave our room later on.” Then the ass winks.

Our waitress, clearly smitten with Hank, giggles all the way back to the kitchen after confirming this was more than okay.

On her return, Nox pays for our brunch, our sandwich platter, and leaves a very nice tip; then he takes my hand, links our fingers, and we walk back to the motel room. Well, Nox drags me along. I’m having difficulty walking (and breathing) because I was such a fatty-fat-fat at the diner. Nox lifts me bridal-style and carries me. Normally, this would bother me.

Today? Not so much.

I’m so tired that I’m tempted to cross my arms behind my head, kick back, and relax. Fumbling with me and the key, Nox manages to open the door, no thanks to me, and just as I sigh peacefully from the enjoyment of my ride, he throws me onto the bed.

I jerk and bounce so ungracefully that my hair thrashes about, then falls over my eyes. Currently blinded by my thick locks, I throw both my hands up in the air, flipping him the bird. He laughs to himself as I hear the bathroom door close.

I yell out, “Can I grab some clothes out of the bag?”

Nox replies, “Yeah.” A second passes before he adds, “Don’t touch anything else.”

Which makes me wonder what else is in there to touch.

Sliding my body off the bed like an overweight slug, I crawl to the bag in the corner of the room. I try lifting it but it’s heavy, so I do what any other lazy person would do. I tip it upside-down and the contents spill out all over the place.

The sound of the shower starting alerts me to the fact that I only have a few minutes to snoop through Nox’s things. Quick as I can, I spread it all out and look down wide-eyed in wonder.

How the hell did all this fit into that small bag?

There’s approximately five sets of Nox’s man clothes, deodorant, new toothbrushes and toothpaste (thank God), rope, that damn blindfold, which I shove in my pocket, something that looks like a mini electronic tablet, USB sticks, ski masks, the shiny black cell phone I talked to my dad on, and my eyes widen even more when I spot the collection of switchblades.

Picking up the largest one and opening it, I press my finger to the blade lightly. It’s about eight inches long including the handle, and sharp as hell. I don’t need to press any further to know this thing would surely take off my finger if I tried to push any further. It looks like a hunting knife. The blade is shiny and curved, the sharp tip on an angle.

Running my hand down the back of the blade, Nox says in eerie calm, “What you got there? Not planning to take me out, are ya, princess?”

Eyes still trained on the blade, I whisper, “I want you to teach me how to use this.”

His rumbling laughter fills the room. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Eyes pleading, I snap my head up to beg when I see Nox.

Nox in a towel.

Nox in a towel stalking towards me.

His frame is so big that he can’t even wrap the small towel around his waist, he grips the edges shut with a large hand. With every step he takes, I see more of his muscular thigh. His short hair dark as night, and his body glistens with drops of heavenly dew.

Sweet baby Jesus. Is it hot in here?

I’m burning up. My heart rate escalates. Once he reaches me, he bends down to collect a new set of clothes and snatches the knife out of my hand. He’s so quick with his hands that he has the knife shut and back in its place within a second.

I’m still staring at his thigh when Nox utters, “Think you oughta turn around if my nudity offends you.” Then he walks over to the bed and drops the towel. And there’s Nox in all his naked glory. Too bad his back’s to me. I’d kill to see the front of that hard body. Stepping into his cotton boxers, he pulls them up and turns around. And there I am, staring at his fabric-covered pee-pee.

“Like what you see?”

Oh fuck!

He just caught me looking at his junk!

Play it cool, Lil.

Shrugging nonchalantly, I ignore my burning cheeks and reply, “Not really. I thought you’d be more– more– I don’t know. More impressive.”

The ass smiles. A huge-ass smile from a huge ass.

Dear God! It reminds me of Heath Ledger’s smile a la ‘10 Things I Hate About You’.

I love that freakin’ smile. And the ass wears it well.

My heart skips a beat, but I remain cool as a cucumber and question, “I thought you types were all tattooed and stuff.”

Wiping down his broad chest with the small towel, he responds, “I’ve got tattoos, Lily. Just not ones you’re used to seeing.”

My eyes widen in interest. I love tattoos, and if Nox is sporting something I haven’t seen before then, naturally, I want to see it. I ask quietly, “Can I see them?”

Nox’s face turns passive, almost thoughtful, before he lowers the waistline to his underwear slightly.

Without meaning to, I gasp aloud and cover my mouth with both hands.

Unbelievable.

Stepping forward slowly, I reach out with a shaking hand to touch the skin there. Just before I reach him, I rear back realizing what I was just about to do. As I lower my face and try to turn away, Nox takes my hand and presses it to the puckered and mutilated flesh just under his waistline. It feels surprisingly soft under my fingertips.

Given permission, I trace the scars with my fingertips. His stomach clenches and contracts. I’m not sure if this is in discomfort or pain, so I pull my fingers away from the gouged and puffed scar tissue that trails from one hip to the other.

Suddenly tattoos don’t appeal to me anymore.

There are no words. I’m speechless.

Looking up at Nox, mouth parted, I search his face. As our eyes meet, he frowns, lifts his hand and uses his thumb to wipe away the tears I hadn’t realized I’d shed.

My heart aches.

He’s a dick. A huge dick. But I wouldn’t wish this on anybody. I want to say something but the words just don’t come. What can you possibly say to someone who has been tortured?

Chapter Nine

Ch– ch– changes

Lily

A few hours after our close encounter, we remain silent, communicating with nothing but nods or one word questions and equally short answers. The waitress from the diner brought up our sandwich platter, along with a complimentary cherry pie for us newlyweds, while I was in the shower. We ate slowly, avoiding each other’s gaze.

Unable to stand the awkwardness any longer, I jump up and turn on the old-ass TV. Nothing but static. I mentally sigh. Of course there’s nothing but static. No one accused me of being lucky. Luck of the Irish, you ask? Nope. Not even that.

Flipping through channels, I stop on the channel with the least amount of static and manually try to tune it. A few minutes pass but nothing helps, so I do what I do whenever something at home is broken.

I beat the crap out of it.

Slapping the sides of the TV, I urge, “C’mon, you piece of shit. Modern technology, my ass!”

Nox chuckles and I say sternly, “You know, you can help me at any time. Don’t be shy now.”

Then I smack the back of the TV. A little too hard.

It falls off the stand and onto the floor. A loud bang resounds through the room. Looking down in shock at the now broken TV, I lift my wide eyes to Nox and shout, “Look at what you did!”

Then he does something beautiful.

He tips his head back and roars with laughter.

And all I can do is watch in awe as his entire body shakes with hilarity while thoughts rush through my brain.

How can a man who has been through what he has, still be able to laugh? Maybe Nox isn’t as damaged as I think he is. I’m an ass. I shouldn’t have labelled him. Ask him about it.

Walking over to the bed, I throw myself back onto it, next to his still shaking body. Placing my arms behind my head, I sigh long and loud, “I’m so bored.”

Nox nods but doesn’t say a thing.

We lay next to each other as night falls, neither of is willing to move, quite comfortable in our finally broken silence. Feeling more confident, I ask, “What happened?”

Obviously knowing this was coming, he breathes in deeply and replies on an exhale, “Got caught by the bad guy.”

This explanation is not satisfactory. I’m nosey! I need more than that. “When?”

“Few years back.”

I’m confused. Turning my body to look at him, I say quietly, “But I thought you were the best.”

Turning his head to the side, his icy blues search my face before answering just as softly, “It’s why I’m the best. I’ll never let that happen again.”

Okay. I like that. That’s a totally acceptable answer.

I nod to no one in particular and fade into the depths of my mind.

Nox stands suddenly, “Damn. I forgot.” Then he walks over to his pile of dirty clothes and searches his cargo pants’ pockets. Pulling something small out, he walks over to me, flops back onto the bed and hands me the small silver device.

When I take a closer look, I gasp, “No way! You had this the whole time?”

Placing his hands back behind his head, he sighs, “Forgot. It’s Boo’s. Left it in my office.”

Switching on the MP3 player, I place both of the earphones in and search the playlists that Boo has. It’s a great selection. Old music, new music, punk, rock n roll, pop, dance, metal, RnB. I reach a particular song and burst into laughter. Nox turns his head and narrows his eyes at me.

Taking out an earphone, I shove it in his ear. “I think I found the song for you.”

Pressing play, Highway to Hell by AC/DC plays and he smirks, nodding along to the beat of the song. When it ends, I select the random option and Clocks by Coldplay comes on.

Nox grunts, “Change it.”

I frown. “I like this song. It’s a nice song.”

He scoffs, “Uh, yeah. No. Are you listening to the same song I am? Light going out, not being able to be saved, cursing missed opportunities?”

Hmmm. I guess I never listened closely to the lyrics before. It is kinda depressing.

Looking over at my crestfallen expression, he says, “See, I made my point. I’d rather attempt to slit my throat with a rusty spoon than listen to this. Change it.”

So I do. The next song that comes on is Royals by Lorde. And I really like this song. Nox doesn’t say a thing, but I see his foot tapping along so I guess he likes it, too. But the subject of the song makes me uncomfortable. Turning the sound down to a dim whisper, I speak up to the ceiling. “We weren’t always rich, you know?”

Nox turns to his side, supporting his head on his hand, acknowledging me and giving me permission to continue.

I don’t dare look at him but continue my story. “We were just like everyone else. Things were different back then. Dad wasn’t so– so– obnoxiously overprotective. I had friends and I had a life. Then dad started working harder and bringing in more money, flipping companies like they were used cars he was selling. Then one day-” I snap my fingers. “It all changed. We bought that ugly monstrosity we call a home. Security was upped and Dad stopped letting me hang out with my friends. They got sick of asking me to parties ‘cause they knew the answer would be no. So they let me go. And I don’t blame ‘em. It’s hard dealing with my dad sometimes.”

Nox makes a small noise. A grunt. Turning to him, I see his brows furrowed, lips pursed. He doesn’t look happy. Suddenly feeling the need to defend my father, I quickly add, “I mean it wasn’t all bad. Just lonely sometimes. So I fell into books. And I love reading. For a few hours, I can escape this world and fall into character. It’s a beautiful thing. I just don’t get what happened, is all.”

Nox’s sudden intake of breath makes me focus on his face, which is suddenly poker-faced. I blink a moment before I gasp and whisper, “You know something.”

He replies a little too firmly, “Lily, I know a lot of things.”

He forgot to add ‘doesn’t mean I’m gonna tell you shit’ but it was implied.

The song flips over to Massive Attack’s Teardrop and we both listen in quiet while watching each other. My eyes watch his face intently, his search mine softly. My eyes beg, ‘please, tell me something’. His argue, ‘you’re not ready.’

Picking invisible lint off the bed covers, I plead softly but urgently, “I’m ready. Tell me. Please, Nox.”

Shaking his head softly, he says, “Won’t see anything the same. Won’t see me the same. Just got your trust. Don’t need to go losin’ it now.” There’s that southern twang again.

Lying to myself, I rush out, “It won’t change a thing. I trust you, Nox. I swear.”

Scoffing, he asks, “What does ‘I swear’ mean to me? Nothin’.”

“My word is my bond. If I swear to you, I’ll do what I can to keep my promise. I know it doesn’t mean shit to you, but in my family, it means something.” Desperate for answers, I reach over, take his hand and link our fingers. “Please, Nox. You’re the only one who can help me. My dad will never tell me.”

Nox squeezes my hand but his face remains void. Such a tough nut to crack.

Anger surges through me. “I’m almost twenty-three, Nox. I’m not a fucking child! Give me back my life! I deserve that much, don’t you think?”

My anger must be contagious because Nox sits up suddenly and shoots a glare at me. My body jerks when without warning, he booms, “Having a life is overrated. If I were your dad, I woulda done the same thing, Lily. Is it fair on you? Fuck no, but you just don’t-”

Stopping suddenly, he says sarcastically, “What do you want to know, princess?” He says princess like it’s a nasty word. Seething, he continues, “You wanna know how this isn’t the first kidnap attempt you’ve been through? You wanna know that last time, they actually fuckin’ got you? That your mom and dad almost lost you? What else? Oh, right! You wanna know about how the day I came to get you was the day I received a contract to kill you myself?”

My blood runs cold.

What did he just say?

Still processing the information he just threw at me, he says softly, “Having a life is overrated. Trust me. There’s no life to live if you’re cold and dead. Your dad has his reasons. You gotta trust someone, Lily.” He barks a humorless laugh and runs a hand through his short hair, “Guess that’s not me anymore.”

Call me stupid but what he just told me doesn’t affect me trusting him. In fact, I think my trust in Nox just got stronger a notch. I never actually expected him to reveal so much.

We stare at each other a while before I whisper, “I was in trouble and you came to get me?”

Nox looks down at the brown shaggy carpet, nodding slowly.

Scooting across the bed, closer to him. “Maybe just for one night we can pretend to like each other and call a truce.” He watches me through furrowed brows and I add a hushed, “Because I could really use a hug right now.”

Not waiting for him to answer, I lightly push him down on the motel bed. And Nox lets me. His arms part a little and I fit my body between the crook of his arm and his hard torso, rest my head on his shoulder, and let out a relaxed sigh. Placing my hand on his chest, he pulls me closer to him and runs his hand through my hair gently.

Thinking a million things at once, I feel the need to let him in on one of those thoughts. “I trust you, Nox. You won’t hurt me. I know it.” I whisper, “I trust you.”

The hand at my hair stills a moment before he sighs, “Maybe you shouldn’t, Lily.”

That falls on deaf ears. I know what I feel and, after all, I’m taking his advice.

I’m going with my gut.

***

Stretching into something firm, my eyes flutter open. I try to turn, but it seems this bed has seatbelts. Looking down, I see the seatbelt is actually a muscular arm cinched around my waist. Now that I’m a little more awake, I realize someone is breathing into my neck and wriggling closer to me. Deeper into my butt.

When I hear Nox whine in his sleep, my eyes widen. I ask my brain, “Is that what I think it is?”

My drooling brain replies, “It’s early, we have a hard-on pressed against our ass, and a delicious man in our bed. I’m out.” Then it disconnects.

My heart races and I swallow hard. The polite thing to do would be to get out of bed. Now.

But I’m so darn toasty that I just can’t find the will to do that. My brain quickly reminds me of another great excuse to not leave his strong arms. Nox hasn’t slept properly in an age. Not since I’ve known him. So, scratch that. I guess the polite course of action would be to let him sleep.

Pressed up against me like I’m his giant teddy bear.

A smile spreads across my face. I’ll never admit it to anyone, ever, but I like Nox. I don’t know what it is about him. For all I know, I have Stockholm syndrome.

My brain rolls its eyes at me muttering, “Yeah. Whatever.”

Okay. No. I don’t have Stockholm syndrome.

I know that part of it is because he’s gruff, and honest, and downright mean. I suppose you could say that I appreciate the ‘real’ in him. Lord knows my life has been sheltered so much, it’s a wonder my skin isn’t so pale it’s transparent.

My brain cheers ecstatically when his arms tighten around me a moment. Then he loosens his hold completely before standing quickly and making his way to the bathroom.

Nuts.

The shower turns on and I force myself out of bed. It’s no fun without him anyways. Standing up, I stretch, wearing only a huge ass Nox tank and my panties, which I cleaned in the bathroom sink, then rummage through the black bag. Leaning forward, my head snaps up when the bathroom door opens and Nox stands there wearing that tiny, skimpy towel again. I fight the urge to sigh dreamily and ask as steadily as I can, “Need somethin’?”

Flicking his chin towards the black bag, he looks down at the tank I’m wearing a long moment before he replies, “Boxers.”

Rolling up a black pair, I throw them at him, and as soon as he catches them, he slams the door shut.

Curious as to what he was looking at, I turn my head to the side and look down at my oversized makeshift pajamas.

Oh, for the love of– Great. Just great.

Nox saw my sideboob.

My cheeks flush. At least he didn’t see nipple. Just pasty-white side-boob.

Side-boob won’t affect anything. What do I care? I’ve seen his bare ass. His mighty fine bare ass. I wonder what it would feel like. It looks like you could bounce a quarter off it.

As my mind wanders, Nox opens the door and asks, “Want a shower before breakfast?”

Wanting to get out of this confined space as quickly as possible, I spray myself with his deodorant before throwing it to him. He sprays himself and throws it back. I respond with, “Nah. Let’s go.”

Slipping on my now clean workout pants, Nox stops me with the stink eye and an, “Uh, no.”

“Excuse me?”

Shaking his head, he looks down at my ensemble through furrowed brows. “You’re not going out like that, Lily. Put somethin’ else on.”

I’m not quite sure what the problem is here. “What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?”

Walking up to me, he pinches the bottom of the tank between his forefinger and thumb and announces, “This is not appropriate for down there.”

Ha! I know what this is about now. I chuckle while shaking my head slowly, “Is this because of this morning’s side-boob?”