It was morning, and my eyes never left him as he cooked sausage over the griddle. Ethan had cracked the window above the sink open, allowing in the brisk morning air. I shivered inside the shirt, but my bare legs had nothing to hide behind.
Ethan wore jeans and a plain black shirt, his red hair in disarray.
He cut off the griddle and placed the sausage over a plate before turning to face me. His eyes roamed down to my chest to see my nipples responding to the cold. There was a longing in his deep blue eyes, but it was short-lived before he yanked the chair out and dropped the plate over the table for two.
He always looked at me with conflict. It wasn’t a combination, more like flashes from one need to another. Flash.I want her. Flash. I have to keep her safe.Flash. What have I done?Flash. I’m going to hell.Flash. Might as well drag her with me.
Every single time.
“Ethan,” I whispered, and the single word slowed his cutting of the sausage. His eyes didn’t leave the plate in front of him. “I miss the way we used to be.” It had only been half a lie. I did miss how we used to be. I missed being able to see him as nothing more than my security blanket. But I missed my fantasy of a man with green eyes, a warm heart, and a loving touch more. “Talk to me. Why are you doing this?”
The knife clanked against the plate, and Ethan adjusted in his chair. “I can’t think right now, Jett,”—he stabbed the sausage with a fork and dropped his elbow over the table between us— “Eat.”
I opened my mouth, and he slipped the sausage in before he took a bite for himself.
Swallowing, I locked my gaze on to a book of matches next to a candle over the counter. “Untie me. You can keep my ankles bound, Ethan. I’m not running anywhere. Just let me feed myself.”
After a long pause of silence, Ethan stood and cleared the table free of silverware, dropping both knives and forks into the sink, then crouched behind me and undid the zip ties from around my wrists. Instant relief set into my arms, and they felt like Jell-O as I tried bringing them up to my plate. “Thank you.”
He knew I wasn’t going anywhere either. Not yet, anyway. With my ankles bound, I couldn’t run. Ethan returned to his seat and picked up a piece of sausage with his fingers. A smile fought its way through, knowing he shed the table of weapons I could stab him with, but it was just as easy to force the smile back down. I was a caged animal in these restraints, in this cabin, and my mind.
After breakfast, Ethan cleaned the mess, hand-washing every article of dishware and placing everything back where they belonged. He swiped the book of matches from the counter and dropped them into a drawer beside the small fridge. Once the kitchen was spotless, Ethan lifted me into his arms and proceeded to carry me down the flight of stairs. How long would he be able to keep this up?
He kept my arms free, and I laid over the mattress, ready for my morning nap.
This routine was my life now, but I refuse to let it be my forever.
“I’ll grab you pants today,” he offered, looking down at me.
I kept my eyes forward, glazed, unblinking.
Believe it or not, this was me fighting.
Each day was a struggle to not surrender to the fade. Instead, my body stayed in reserve. Comatose and utterly compliant on the outside, but on the inside, I never stopped planning my escape. Smart. I had to be smart.
Ethan stood over me, awaiting a response he’d never get. All I wanted was for him to go upstairs and make his call so I could fall asleep to the muffled sounds of his voice and dream of the angel who came to me when my eyes closed—my green-eyed angel with the voice of song and gentle, slow hands.
Ollie …
“Keep them closed,” he whispers in my ear. I know he’s beside me, his free and gentle spirit is radiating and raising every hair over my tingling skin.
We’re lying over his bed, completely still. It’s quiet now, aside from the air releasing through my nose and the shallow breaths coming from him. I don’t know what his plans are yet, but everything Ollie does is not without purpose.
His sculpted yet slender body moves over me effortlessly, and instinctively my legs fall to the sides to let him in. He’s holding himself up because I don’t feel his weight, and his palms clasp around my ears. I no longer hear anything, only a soft and continuous beating from within. It’s either his heartbeat or mine. I can’t tell.
His minted breath hits my lips first, and it makes me dizzy. I’m trying to remain still, but when Ollie’s mouth traces mine, the heartbeat in my ears slams harder and quickens with every sweep of his tender lips. Mine quiver, his breath shatters, and I taste him upon each inhale. We’re not even kissing, but his mouth still has a way of exploring mine and my lips part, anticipating his every move.
His mere taste is nostalgic, a slice of heaven, and I long for more. Slowly, his lips stroke mine, unapologetically yet forgiving. And how is it possible? He nips at my bottom lip, and a flame lights as I crumble. Each time I lift my head for more, he pulls away, and the loss slices through me.
It’s exhilarating. Almost too much to bear any longer. An ache forms inside my chest from the inescapable vibrant torture. Why can’t he give me what I’m needing? But I trust him, and so I remain still as I’m breaking apart beneath him.
Suddenly, Ollie’s tongue sweeps against mine, and every nerve bursts into flames. A fire flares behind my eyes. I don’t know why, but I want to cry. He’s inside my head, inside my chest, teasing my very heart, but he’s barely touching me, and it’s all too much.
A whimper escapes me, and Ollie surrenders, catching my mouth. My chest, it clenches with every stroke of his tongue, and we kiss as if emotions are bleeding out between the sheets. Tears roll down my face, and the salt mixes with his sweet taste. I don’t understand what is happening to me. I’m shaking. The beating inside my ears is so loud now. Its fast pace doesn’t match the slow and consuming rhythm of his kiss.
Finally, Ollie pulls away and grazes my wet cheek with his thumbs. Both his forearms and words shudder as he says, “Now, love. Now open your eyes.” Speechless, I blink three times as glossy green eyes stare down under wet lashes. “What do you feel?” he asks nervously, and his eyes bounce between mine as the crease between his brows appears.
I suck in air then release a steadier breath. Ollie was able to show me a remnant of the way I made him feel. The constant dilemma to fight or let go, and this was only a kiss. But Ollie managed to by shutting off my other senses. I closed my eyes. He blocked out my sound. The only touch was his lips his hands, feeding me his bohemian heartbeat. “Everything. I feel everything, Ollie.”
