I cup her warm face and run my thumb over her lips. I helped her wash her face clear of her makeup, and she looks just as gorgeous without it. Her skin is soft and her lips pouty. Her big green eyes seem brighter than they were the night on the yacht all those years ago. “You’re my business, Everett. Everything you do is my business. That includes touching yourself.”
She licks her lips. “So what? You’re going to deny me orgasms now?”
“Sounds to me like you’re denying yourself of them.” That grants me an eye roll. I was setting her up to see if she would get herself off. I know how she feels about sex with men, but to not even please herself? “Why?”
Her pretty green eyes fall to the bed, and she takes a long breath, but she doesn’t answer.
She was a doll. Maybe they used orgasms as a punishment? Or made her beg for a release that she was never allowed to have? “There’s nothing wrong with getting off, angel.” I go on. “To feel good.”
Meeting my stare once more, she whispers, “You make me feel good.”
I lean in and gently kiss her lips, unable to stop myself. She surprises me by kissing me back.
“Come on. You need to rest.” I’ve got a big day planned for her tomorrow.
She closes her eyes, and I crawl in next to her, letting mine wander her body as she sleeps on her side, facing me. I run the pad of my fingers gently over her upper arm, caressing the bruises the belts left.
Her eyes flutter open before they fall closed once more and she yawns.
“Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Why?” she asks sleepily, her dark lashes fanning her cheeks.
“To take care of you,” I say simply.
“I can take care of myself,” she mumbles. “I’d rather you just fuck me.”
I smirk at that and promise, “I’ll do that too. Just not tonight.”
Moments later, her breathing evens out and her body relaxes into the mattress. She’s sound asleep.
I get up, find the remote, and turn her TV on, making sure to put the volume on low so it doesn’t wake her. Then I get undressed and climb back into bed, pull her body flush with mine and close my eyes.
It feels good to be needed. For someone to depend on me. It’s been a long time since I took care of someone.
EVERETT
I wake up with a groan. Rolling over onto my side, I open my eyes to look around and see I’m alone.
Finally. A little peace and quiet.
My head is pounding, and my body hurts. The guy I killed last night put up a fight.
“Fucking bitch.” He scowls, grabs my hair, and yanks my head back. “I’m on to you.”
As he shoves my face into the dirty comforter, his voice is muffled from the blood rushing in my ears.
When he pulls my head up, I twist my body around, feeling his hand tighten in my hair in the process, and I slam my fist into his throat. “Bastard,” I growl.
Coughing and sputtering, he lets go and stumbles back. I take the opportunity and jump off the bed, barreling into him, and the momentum pushes him back so he hits the glass wall, and it shatters before we fall to the floor.
I get up on my hands and knees, crawling to my bag, but he grabs my ankle and yanks me back. “Not this time.”
I slam my free foot into his face over and over until he lets go of my ankle. I’m gasping for breath as I reach into my bag and pull out my knife. He jumps on me as I spin around and stab him, splattering myself with his blood.
“Fuck,” I growl, shoving his dead weight off me, trying to catch my breath.
I ended up stabbing him in the chest twice. I made sure he was dead before I left him there.
