Lauren
He slept like the dead. I remembered that from when we were younger, the way he’d accidentally fall asleep with me in my room and stay the night holding me. The more I shoved him, poked him, and tried to wake him up to send him home, the louder he would snore. A delicate game we played, always being close, spending as much time together as we could, yet never fully defining our relationship. I didn’t recall Michael dating anyone, or even mentioning other girls. I never let myself believe he and I were anything more than friends, really good friends. The idea of being rejected by him had been my motivation to keep things unsaid.
But now, I wasn’t sure if those words could continue to live in the silence. Shouldn’t we talk about what happened? Shouldn’t there be some sort of discussion about us having sex? Michael wasn’t my first, I hadn’t been a complete prude before he re-entered my life, but I never had a fling, or a one-night stand. What if that was all he wanted? How could I let him go again after finally finding him?
The hot water of my shower poured over me, taking away any scent of his body and soothing my sore muscles. Whoever attacked me had not only scared me senseless, he’d made me strain more than one unused muscle to fight back against him. When Michael saw the small cut on my throat, I thought for a minute he would go back down to the alley and punch the guy a few more times.
I heard the door creak when he opened it, and saw him poke his head through the opening. “Lauren? You okay?” That concern in his voice. No matter how much he said things wouldn’t ever be like they were in the past, no matter how much he tried shoving me away, I knew in that voice, he cared. At least a little.
“Just washing up. It was hot last night, I’m all sweaty.” I stood still for a moment, willing him to join me. The way his hands worked my body, his mouth teased me and caressed me, was something I could get used to. “You sleep okay?” I asked when he made no sound. Still nothing. “Michael?”
I pulled the curtain back enough to see the rest of the bathroom. He had left. Rolling my eyes, I went back to cleaning up and getting out of the shower. Just as I wrapped the towel around my hair, the door opened again and he stood in the doorway with his hands fisted on his hips, wearing only his jeans.
I thought I had seen a good bit of him the night before, but now, seeing him in the daylight, he knocked the breath out of me. What looked like an athletic build in the moonlight of my room, looked to be gladiator form in the natural light. Dark tattoos covered his biceps, a few different ones on his chest, and one ran down the inside of his arm, but I couldn’t make out what it said. His hard abs, perfectly cut, led down to his narrow waist. I swallowed hard when my eyes landed on the bulge in his pants.
“You’ve been in here all morning,” he accused me with his growl. “I’ve been waiting patiently, but no more. Get in your bedroom.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Nuh-uh. The last time you looked at me like that, you stole my towel and had your wicked way with me.”
“My wicked way? Oh, no, sweetheart. That wasn’t my wicked way.” His lopsided, easy grin sent a shiver down my spine, straight to where I wanted him the most.
“I’m no little girl anymore, Michael.” I put a hand on my hip and tried to glare at him. “You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves anymore.”
He shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re asking for. Let’s get you dressed and pack a few things. You can spend the day with me at the garage, then we’ll head back to my place.” He stepped out of the way of the door, gesturing me to move to do his bidding.
I sighed and refused to move. “Michael. I have a class this morning, then I’m working at the shelter this afternoon, and I have one office to clean this evening. I can’t play hooky just because you have it in your head that some guy is after me.”
His eyes darkened, but not in the way that suggested we go back to my room for more fun, but in the sort of way that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
“I don’t think someone’s after you. I know it. And until he’s caught, until I’m satisfied you’re safe, you’ll do what I say, when I say it, with no back talk or complaint.” My jaw slacked. I gripped my towel harder around me and took a deep breath. In all the years I knew Michael, not once had he used that voice on me. I’d heard him use it on bullies at school, and once when he was getting my stepfather away from my room, but never had he turned his toe curling growl in my direction.
“I have class.”
“I’ll take you to class. Tony will pick you up from class and bring you back to the garage. There’s a specific repair this morning I have to handle myself. I will then drive you to the shelter for your shift and take you to the office you need to do your thing at. Hell, I’ll even help you so you’ll get done faster and get home for a decent night’s sleep. In air conditioning!”
The heat in my cheeks had nothing to do with my attraction to him, even in that moment when he was being unreasonably authoritative, but had everything to do with him stealing my freedom from me.
“Why would someone be after me, Michael? And don’t say the internship again.”
“Maybe one of the husbands of the women at the shelter?” I hadn’t thought about that. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but he had a point.
Lauren
The corners of his lips began to curl, the man could read my mind too damn easily. “See, now get your little ass in the bedroom.” He stepped out of the way, clearing a path for me to get out of the bathroom.
Holding the towel tightly in my grasp, I maneuvered past him and padded to my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind me. He must have been right behind me. I heard the thud of the door smacking his hand. He shoved the door open, then slammed it shut behind him, turning an angry glare at me. “Did you just try to slam a door in my face?”
I couldn’t help but smile. Of course that wasn’t what I had done; I had no idea he was right behind me. “Well, if you would have given me some privacy, that wouldn’t have happened. I didn’t know you were that close. I was just closing the door, Michael.” The fierceness in his gaze should have warned me, should have sent alarm bells off in my mind. Instead, I felt my body reacting to him. My nipples hardened under the towel; brushing against the roughness of discount store fabric made my insides warm to him even more.
Michael stalked me, taking deliberate steps toward me, backing me up until the bed hit the back of my knees. “I think you were trying to hit me with the door.” His eyes never left mine.
“Why would I do that?” I held tighter to the towel, my only lifeline. The tip of his boots touched my toes. He towered over me with such close proximity. I had to lean back to look up at him. His eyes weren’t full of anger––no, it was something more, something carnal. Stubble covered his tense jaw. I reached up to touch it. I’d never seen him with a beard before. He stood steady as my fingers touched his chin.
“I thought you had a class you wanted to get to.”
“I did. I do.” My throat felt dry as the words left me. My hand traveled downward, over his shoulders, toward the hard muscles of his chest. Everywhere I touched felt hard, the muscles, the tension in his body. I chanced looking up at him, my eyes meeting his again. He watched me with curiosity. “You’re all grown up, Michael.” I barely whispered the sentence.
“So are you.” His hand came up and covered my own, stilling my exploration just as I reached for the buckle on his jeans. “And as a grown woman, you need to understand a few things.” He gently pushed me down to sit on my bed. Planting his hands on either side of me, his nose nearly touched mine. “If you look at me like that, touch me like that, I’m going to take that to mean you want me to rip this towel off you and fuck you until you scream so loud your neighbors come banging on the door.” If he meant it as a threat, it wasn’t working.
“Maybe I do.” I found my voice.
His lips curled at the edges, and he shook his head. His eyes grazed over my body, settling on where my hand still gripped the towel. “Take off the towel.” He stepped back to give me room.
The harshness of his voice suggested I shouldn’t argue, and truth be told I didn’t want to anyway. I stood on shaky legs and untucked the towel, letting it drop to the floor at my feet. The back of his hands brushed against my pebbled nipples. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath at the strong current of arousal just his simple touch could evoke in me.
“Unbuckle my belt.” He made no move to touch me again, and he laughed at my little pout of disappointment. He always could tell my thoughts even when I wasn’t looking at him. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want. So long as you’re good.”
I wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but I focused on his belt instead. The heady desire in my body built with every second of his eyes on me. The belt finally came loose and I moved to work the round silver button but his hands stilled mine.
“I didn’t say to unbutton them. I said to unbuckle the belt. Now remove it from my jeans and hand it to me.” I did look up at him then, searching his expression for anger. He grinned at me. “Go on, Lauren. Give me my belt.” His arms crossed over his chest.
Taking a small step back, I pulled the leather strip through the belt loops of his jeans. I ran the thick leather through my fingers as I doubled it over and offered it to him. My insides were shaking, but I could feel more than a little moisture building between my legs.
He uncrossed his arms and took the belt from my hands, his eyes never leaving my face. I tried to avert my eyes, to ignore the hard lust in his eyes, but as much as his demanding stare brought my nerves to attention, he was the safest place I ever knew. Nothing bad would happen to me with Michael with me. I knew that, and I knew that no matter what he was about to do with that belt of his, I was going to love it.
“Turn around.” He twirled one finger at me, showing me what he wanted me to do. I swallowed, gave a nod and obeyed. “Hands behind you.” Another curt order. The fan blew toward us from the dresser, the light breeze hardened my nipples more, making them tighter.
The belt pressed against my wrists as he ran the leather strap around my wrists, then slid it through the buckle. Metal jangled behind me, but when I tried to see over my shoulder at what he was doing, he delivered a hard slap to my bare ass. “Eyes forward.” He softened his hard command by placing a kiss to my turned cheek.
Around and around my wrists he ran the belt, until they were securely bound behind me. My shoulders gave a little pull at the positioning, and for a moment I was grateful for the horrible yoga and Pilates videos I forced myself to work through almost daily.
“Shit. Your shoulder.” He started to untie my wrists, but I yanked away, shaking my head.
“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” I protested. It was the truth; other than a vague ache, I had almost forgotten about it being injured.
“It’s not healed yet.” He ignored me and grabbed my upper arm, spinning me back around. With jerking motions that were more uncomfortable than if he had just left me, he unbound me. “Fuck, woman. You make me forget myself.” Under other circumstances it might have been a romantic comment, but he growled it, making it sound accusatory.
I yanked away from him again, spinning to look him in the eyes. “My fucking shoulder is fine. If you don’t want to do this, then just say that. Untie me and leave.”
Something flashed in his eyes that I had never seen before. His lips pressed together, turning white in his attempt to breathe through his nose. The eyes that I found so much comfort in not more than two minutes ago darkened and narrowed. Giving me the very distinct impression that the storm was building, and if I was smart, I would take cover. Except I was naked and still bound.
“You just yelled at me.” His lips curled into a smile, but it lacked warmth.
“I…I.” Where’d my tongue go? “Michael. I’m sorry.”
“I was going to undo your wrists and rebind you in the front to relieve any pressure on that shoulder, but then you pulled away and yelled at me.” He closed the space between us with one step and his hands dove into my hair, making me turn away from him again. With one hand, he managed to finish unbinding my hands. My insides told me to claw at him, to get his fist out of my hair but something else told me to stay put, that I’d done enough damage already.
“You’re hurting me,” I whispered, and covered his fist with my hand.
He dragged me back until I was pressed up against his chest. “Not yet, but if you ever raise your voice to me like that again, I will bend you over, strip you bare, and spank you until sitting down isn’t an option for days. Got me?” He gave my head a slight shake when I didn’t answer him right away. “I told you, I’m not that kid you knew in high school.”
“Yes! I got it, Michael.” My breath came faster, my throat burned from breathing through my open mouth. I could feel my nerve endings tingling and, most embarrassing, I felt liquid run down my inner thigh.
“Good. Now. Get dressed.” He placed a kiss to my cheek, and gave my earlobe a quick nip before releasing me.
I turned to face him. He already started putting his belt back in his pants. A panic ran through me. “I’m sorry. Really sorry,” I rushed out.
He grinned, warmer, but still not safe. “I know you are.” He winked.
“Michael.” I caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants and immediately licked my lips. “Aren’t you…well…” I nodded toward his erection.
He gave a laugh. “Yep, I’m hard as fuck for you, but you didn’t play nice. You need to learn to listen to me.”
“What?” I breathed out. “You’re not going to fuck me because you’re punishing me?” I wanted to launch myself at him and slap him.
“That, and you’ll miss your class if we don’t get going.” Without another word, he walked out of the room. Leaving me standing in the bedroom, naked, and more aroused than I had ever been in my life. I wanted to scream at him until my throat split in half, but I knew Michael. I would have better luck changing the ocean tides than I would getting him to change his mind.
Besides, if he didn’t want me, that was fine. I lived just fine the past seven years without his touch. Although, to be fair, I never knew his touch like I did the night before. Damn him. But two could play his game.