Chapter 14

Taylor

 

I contemplate calling 9-1-1. His eyes are wild, and he doesn’t seem to be here in this moment. He’s gone. I’m not sure where his mind has gone. I reach for his hand, the one squeezing the glass. Blood drips to the floor. I cradle his hand in mine, unfurling his fingers to pick out pieces of glass.

“Are you ok?” I ask softly, looking up to meet his eyes. The way they shimmer in the light. The way they darken. It’s all too much. His free hand comes to rest on my cheek. I lean into his touch.

“I’m bad, Tay. Nothin’ good ever comes from bein’ near me,” he warns me softly, but I don’t care. There is something good in him, I can feel it.

“We need to clean your hand.” I slowly stand, never letting go of his bleeding hand as I lead him into the bathroom. I direct him to sit on the edge of the tub. Reluctantly I let him go to grab the first aid kit. I grab the supplies I need as he watches me. His head cocks to the side. His eyes burn my skin. There’s so much longing in those beautiful eyes. My gentleness mixed with his harshness is such a sweet friction. I want more of it.

“Where did you go?” I finally ask as I sit on my knees in front of him. His eyes are sheltered. He holds more secrets than I thought inside of him.

“I don’t know. It happens sometimes. Hey, look, I’m fine.” He tries to pull his hand away from me, but I don’t let him.

“Humor me.”

Mayhem drops his hand back onto his leg, palm up. I get to work cleaning it and making sure I got all the slivers of glass out of it.

“I don’t think it needs stitches,” I tell him once the bleeding slows. I place some bandages over it before wrapping it with gauze. When I’m done, he moves his wrapped hand to my cheek. Looking up into his eyes, I’m lost. As lost as he is.

“Why are you tryin’ so hard, Tay? Why is it so important that you feel wanted? Who made you feel like you weren’t?” His voice has softened to almost a whisper. It tugs at my heart.

“My dad sent me away when my mom died. He always told me it was my fault. He didn’t want me around,” I say softly. “I was young, and I believed him. He’s my father after all.” I don’t know why I feel comfortable enough to tell him this. What the hell is wrong with me?

“How old were you? When she died?” he asks as though he’s interested.

“I was seven when she died. Dad said it was my fault. He sent me away when I was eight. I’ve only seen him maybe twelve times since then.”

His mouth gapes open. His eyes widen. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

I shake my head and shrug. I stand from the floor and take a step back realizing just how fucking desperate I look. “It doesn’t matter now.”

I reach for the shirt hanging on the hook by the door. I need to get out of this bathroom. I need to get away from him. I feel like he’s ripping my walls apart piece by piece, and I don’t like the vulnerable feeling it leaves me with. I turn and start to pull my shirt on when it’s ripped from my hands. His breath is so close, his warmth skating over my skin. Mayhem slides his hand around my waist, pulling me into his hard body. His lips are mere inches from my neck.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Tay. He’s a bastard to make you feel like that.” His lips touch my neck, and heat floods my body.

“You deserve so much more, Tay.” His tongue slides down my neck, across my shoulder blade. He nips at my skin, pulling my bra strap. My body trembles.

“I want you, Mayhem.” The words fall from my lips before I can rethink them.

“You don’t know what you’re askin’ for.”

For a minute, I think he’s going to pull away. I’m almost certain he’s going to reject me again. His body goes still, but his heat overwhelms me as his rock-hard chest presses against my back. I’d give anything to see the look in his eyes right now. To try and get a read on him.

“Go in your room. Take everything off and wait for me.” He nips at my shoulder once more before giving me a little shove.

Why I follow his directions is beyond me. Maybe it’s the pull he has over me. Maybe it’s the way his voice is demanding yet gentle with me. I do it though like an obedient little girl. I walk from the bathroom and straight to my room. In a daze, I pull my panties and bra off, tossing them to the floor. I climb on the bed and wait. My heart is stammering inside of me. I saw the size of him. Is it going to hurt? Is he going to be easy with me since it’s my first time? So many thoughts rush me at once that I didn’t notice him step into the room. He stands there, pure muscle and perfection, watching me.

“Touch yourself.” My eyes jerk to his. He’s serious.

“I’ve never…” I stumble over my own words. I’ve never really touched myself. Sure, the thought was there, but I never acted on it. Another one of my sad realities.

Mayhem cocks his head to the side. “Never?”

I shake my head slowly. A grin crosses his face. He walks to the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor. My mouth goes dry. He’s body is perfect. Covered in colorful tattoos and designs. Mayhem kneels on the bed, watching me intently.

“Slide your finger into your pussy,” he demands.

My body vibrates with need. His commanding voice setting off all kinds of feelings inside of me. I’ve never had a man command me with the power Mayhem does. It’s like it wasn’t even a choice to follow his commands.

I slowly lower my hand and find myself soaking wet for him. I run my finger through the wetness and moan as I watch him. His eyes blaze with fire, holding me hostage.