“You’re mocking me,” he seethes. For a moment, it looks like he’s about to lose his shit. Then his gaze softens, and his grin turns wicked. “Fine, then.” He bends toward me and buries his shoulder into my stomach as his hands grip the backs of my thighs. Suddenly, I’m upside down, staring at his adorably tiny but firm ass.
Bastard tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. “What the fuck?”
“Come along,” he says, smacking me on the butt. “Time to show you what I’m capable of.”
He carries me up the stairs, his stride never slowing. It’s not exactly a comfortable ride, though. With every step, my ribcage collides with his hard shoulder, more blood rushes to my head, and dizziness threatens to overtake me.
When he sets me down next to my bed, my legs feel like noodles. He has to grip my shoulders to keep me steady, but it’s not enough. My vision is blurred, my headache feels like it’s radiating throughout my body, and I worry my breakfast is about to make a very unpleasant return.
“Natalie, what is it?” Winston’s hand cups my cheek, the coldness of his palm instantly settling my insides. “Tell me.”
“I-I’m fine,” I say. I’m just feeling woozy from the way he carried me. This headache certainly isn’t helping, though.
“You shouldn’t go into work today. Call Dominic and tell him you aren’t feeling well.”
“No, no, no. I’m not sick. We need to deal with that mess downstairs.”
A gentle push is all it takes for him to get me seated on the edge of the bed. He grabs my ankles and straightens me out, taking the folded blanket off the end of the bed and covering me with it.
“You will rest,” he instructs. “When you awaken, if you still feel like this, you’ll call Dominic and take the night off. Understood?”
Absolutely not. Unless I’m puking my guts out, I’m not giving up a shift. But Winston won’t budge. I know that already. It’s not worth the energy to argue, especially since I’m feeling so drained at the moment. A little fib won’t hurt anyone. “Fine, but either way, I need to clean up that pile of wood in the kitchen.”
He leans down, pressing a kiss to my forehead, then lowers his mouth to my ear. “I’ll take care of it. You sleep. You’ll need energy for what I’m planning to do to you later.”
Heat pools in my belly at his words, at the throaty rumble of his deep voice. Even when the world is spinning and my head feels like it’s going to implode, this man can get me wet with a single sentence.
Winston’s gaze is locked on me as he walks backwards out of the room, smirking confidently, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. It makes me want to smack him a little, but mostly tug his pants down and run my tongue along his hard length. I fall asleep wondering what he tastes like.
I wake up a few hours later, slightly sweaty. My headache remains, but it doesn’t feel worse, so I take that as a good sign. A full night of sleep will get rid of it. I just need to get through my shift first.
The destruction in the kitchen is completely gone when I head downstairs. Winston has disposed of the wood and broken glass, and all that remains is the large rectangular shell that used to contain the shelves. He’s stacked the dishes I’ve decided to keep neatly on the island, and the rest are wrapped and boxed for donation. I’m surprised he was able to do all of this without waking me. I guess my body needed the rest.
He meets me by the front door and frowns when he sees me putting my shoes on.
“I feel perfectly fine,” I tell him. A headache isn’t enough of a reason to leave my coworkers stranded on a Friday night. It’s not like I have Covid symptoms. Besides, can monsters even get Covid? Or other human diseases, for that matter?
He purses his lips but doesn’t say anything. I appreciate his restraint because this is a battle he won’t win.
I get up on my toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
That disarms him enough to turn his frown into a smirk. He grabs me by the waist, pulling me against his hard chest. I briefly get lost in his green eyes. They seem warmer, the color lighter, somehow, when he’s like this. When he’s not so closed off and cranky. “Come home to me as soon as you can.”
Well, now my stomach is fluttering, and I’m regretting my decision to go into work. It needs to be done, though. The quicker I finish my shift, the quicker I can get home to my ghost, and finally get him inside me like I’ve been dreaming about.
Chapter 15
Winston
My Natalie has been gone for three hours. I’ve hated every minute we’ve been apart. Even looking at the grandfather clock in the study heightens my anger. I’m beginning to despise it. The big hand taunts me with each tick. I’ve spent the time with my sketchbook and charcoal pencil, filling up the pages that have remained blank for months. When I pause, adding a new line to my drawing, my gaze travels to that big hand on the clock, hoping it’s made much more progress than it actually has.
I understand she needs to work, but knowing I’m stuck here while she’s able to roam the world freely leaves me feeling unsettled. What if something happens to her out there? I can catch her when she falls off the counter here, but I’m powerless if something like that happens at the bar. WillDominicbe there to catch her? Or what if something worse occurs, like a car accident, or she gets caught in the middle of a monster brawl? I won’t be there to get her to safety. My pencil snaps between my fingers at the thought.
Gray smudges cover my palm and fingertips, and I grab a tissue to wipe them off with a frustrated grunt. Dominic betterkeep his hands to himself. If he touches her…well, what can I do? Not much, unless he comes here. Perhaps there’s a way to lure him here under false pretenses. All he needs to do is cross the property line and I can…No.I can’t waste my time thinking about hypotheticals.
Tossing my sketchbook onto the desk with a huff, I start thinking about what to make Natalie for dinner. She prefers to eat here, despite getting a free meal at the bar each shift, since most of the food there comes out of the deep fryer.
A mushroom risotto, perhaps? Or is it too hot out for something like that? Maybe a Greek salad with grilled chicken and garlic breadsticks on the side. I know that’s one of her favorites, and she has yet to taste mine. I’m certain she’ll find mine to be the best she’s ever had. No other Greek salad will ever compare.
