Page 16 of Full of Wrath

Why does an image of him holding me down pop into my head? Why does it make me all hot and sweaty and twitchy in places I shouldn’t be thinking about?

“I…I think I had a good night.” Not true. I had nightmares, but I don’t want to tell him and ruin his morning.

His eyes rake across my face like he might know the truth anyway. He doesn’t say anything, but the corners of his mouth kick up. Instead of saying a word, he lowers his head in what I think might be an attempt at a kiss. Instead, he ends up burying his face in my neck, causing a shiver to race through me.

“Oh my God! Are you two kissing in the hallway? Are you kissing Memphis?”

I expect Memphis to pull away from me when Sadie starts questioning us. He only turns us using his hands on my hips to half-dance us around so he can look at her. “Not yet, but if you’d have stayed in the room for another five minutes, probably.”

What?

Apparently, Sadie and I are floored because her face looks a lot like how mine must look, mouth hanging open, eyes wide with surprise and speechless. He finally straightens up, but even then, he doesn’t fully release me. Instead, he takes my hand and pulls me towards the stairs with Sadie trailing behind us.

“Come on, ladies. I’ll make us something for breakfast.”

I don’t see much of him for the rest of the day, but that might be because I find a room with a comfy chair and a stack of books that take up most of my day. I might have also dozed off in said chair and taken a nap for a couple of hours. So, maybe it wasn’t him. It definitely wasn’t me hiding from him so I could figure out what he makes me feel, why he makes my body react the way it does.

Me and Sadie turn in early so she can help me wash my hair and we can watch one of our reality shows. I must fall asleep first because when I jerk awake, Sadie is gone, the TV is still on, but now it’s got a ghost show on it and the room seems a little darker than before. It doesn’t take long before I am throwing the covers back and going in search of my best friend.

Since I’ve been chased through the woods and attacked, I find that being by myself unsettles me. I make my way down the stairs and take a moment to admire the place. It really is beautiful. I step up to the door leading into the room I was in this evening and immediately jerk back, flattening myself against the wall; the two people making out on the daybed don’t spot me. I found Sadie!

I peek back around the edge of the door to look at the two of them. I tell myself it’s to make sure they didn’t notice me, but I can’t help taking a longer look at the two bodies entwined around each other, their legs tangled together and their mouths melded to one another’s. They look really in love and happy. The way he holds her face so he can take their kiss deeper and the sound of them kissing one another causes a weird longing to blossom in my heart.

What would it be like to have what they have? What would it be like for a man to hold you like you’re the most fragile thing in his life, not because you’re weak but because you are the center of his world? What would it be like to have someone hold me like Boston is holding Sadie? Is it really too much to ask for someone to treat me like I’m their one and only instead of being told I can take care of myself? What would it be like to just let go and fall knowing arms are there to catch you every time?

Damn it! I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be staring at my best friend making out with a boy we both know because his sister is our friend. I shouldn’t be in this cabin away from everything familiar because I saw something I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t be yearning for something I never realized I was missing before I got attacked and some big, tall, blue-eyed man started touching me like he owns me. I shouldn’t have let him kiss me, and I damned sure shouldn’t have enjoyed it!

I am seconds from turning away when a hand clamps over my mouth and an arm like steel wraps around me. My first response is to fight for freedom as I’m being dragged away from the door and from the only two people who might be able to help me since they’re so close. Going limp does nothing as the person behind me lifts me easily like I weigh nothing.

I jerk my head back to try to clip the person in the nose but miss. It takes me a few minutes to realize the person holding me is laughing. They’re laughing about me being weak and defenseless. My temper flares and I start really trying to inflict any kind of pain on the person holding me prisoner.

“I’ll teach you how to get out of this, baby, but for now, maybe, calm it down a little unless you want Sadie and Boston to find us.”

Memphis!

I turn my head to find midnight blue eyes staring back at me. He doesn’t really let me go, but he does set me on my feet back at the side of the door so we can both watch Sadie and Boston. It’s easy for him to see over my head to know I was spying on my best friend making out with his brother. Heat rushes across my face and my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

I’ve been caught and can only wait for him to announce the fact we are here watching them, that I was here watching them like some kind of perv. Boston’s hand drops down to encircle her throat as they both moan at the taste of one another and my eyes grow wider. Now, is a good time to stop watching, but the big immovable object behind me keeps me in place, his arm wrapped around my waist, his hand splayed out on my belly as Boston’s hand drops even lower.

Chapter Sixteen

Memphis

Jealousy burns hot in my chest as I watch my little sweetheart stare at my fucking brother making out with his girl. I followed her as she left the room, crept down the stairs, and started watching the two of them. Anger and shame coiled deep in my belly as I saw the look on her face when she looked at them. She was picturing herself in Sadie’s place, and I wanted to kill my brother for the first time ever.

“You like Boston.” It comes out full of acid and hate as my stomach rolls.

“Sure, what’s not to like?” She whispers so casually back at me while my world implodes.

I drop my arm and take a step back as I try to come to terms with taking her from him.

“I’d like him a lot better if he’d get his head out of his ass and just say Sadie’s his, instead of pussyfooting around it.”

What now?

I think my heart just stopped and restarted all in the space of a second.

“Why would he not just say she’s his?”