Not giving him another beat of my time, I maneuver around him, but his hand is lashing out and locking around my wrist.
My heart flits and my arm gets yanked back, my feet stumbling with the topple of my weight lurching in a one eighty.
I don’t have time to be confused. He’s tugging me into his chest and throwing his arms around me, firmly bracing his palms to my upper and lower back—torching me with intense affection.
I’m hesitant. But his cologne is calming my racing mind. And his touch gives my heart a healthy reason to pound.
Smoothing my hands around the scars raised up through the fabric on his back, I close my eyes and tune into the strong beat in his chest. “Did you kill him?” I whisper.
“No.” Rubbing my lower back, his free hand moves a curl from my face, and he cups my cheek, his fingers knotting possessively in my hair to turn my attention up to him. “He was sleeping like a pig next to his wife with their kid a few doors down. But I won’t always be so kind, little bunny. I need to know if he comes near you again and for what. Might even attach one of those GoPros to you with a collar to see where you hop off to.”
See? Razor has empathy running through his veins. He has a heart. He knows when something is too much, even if it takes extreme measures to get to that point.
Therefore, it’s honestly not relieving to hear that a man didn’t die over something small. And I think it’s because deep down I knew Razor would fight through the wrath he gets overwhelmed with and come to his senses.
I’m more concerned about Junior’s salaciousness when he has a wife.
That’s awful, makes me feel gross.
“I’m proud of you, Bunny.” He bends down to my silence, almost enough for our noses to touch, and he softens his eyes directly on mine. “You stood up for yourself. You said what you really wanted. Keep doin’ that for me. Keep doin’ thattome.”
How can a human be so polarizing?
Hmm, I’m not sure I can use that word to describe him. Because I could never hate him. And I think that makes me just as arsenic.
“Thank you,” I murmur, my eyes growing glassy with the vortex in my chest. “I, uh… I need to tell you something.”
“I’m right here.”
My lips twist, my fingers fidgeting down to the hem of his shirt to contemplate ruining everything we just worked toward.
I have to, though. That’s not sitting right with me. Even if he was just doing whatever he could to get answers.
My numb hands latch into his belt, my toes twiddling against the metal bar separating the linoleum in the kitchen from the living room carpet. “He slipped his hand around my back and whispered,‘Don’t tell your boyfriend,’after insinuating he wanted to take me on a date.”
His jaw tightens, ticking the prominent muscles that strengthen his face. “It’s… fine. I’m fine.”
His nostrils flare with a huff and he drops his hands from me, roughly wiping down his face and locking his fingers behind his head.
Now’s not the time to trace out the muscles and veins bulging in his sweaty arms. Or the sneak peek of the deep V-line taunting me from his lifted shirt.
I’ll reminisce later when I have nothing to do.
I back up, keeping my eyes on the scan he’s doing around the house to distract himself. “You don’t seem fine.”
“Yeah, no, I’m not doin’ too good,” he shakes his head, dropping his arms with another huff, his palms slapping the thick side pockets on his thighs. “I need you to sit on my face. Full force. Ride it like you need it.”
“What?”
“Huh?” His lips fold in and he dips lower to me with hitched brows, like he needs clarity.
“Did you… just, uh…” I clear the mousiness from my throat, anxiously wiping my forehead.
“Actually-” he gets closer, ripping a fake smile onto his face “-why the fuck did you not tell me that last night?”
He’s so mad. But the way he bobs his theatrical head to each word has a laugh bubbling my chest.
My lips seal together, and I cover my mouth, trying to hide the internal giggle shaking my chest and watering my eyes. “I was busy.”
