Paranormal Dating Agency: Something Different (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 6

  She stopped talking when the tears made her voice crack. She tried hard to prevent them, holding her breath, closing her eyes tight, yet still they seeped through. A small sob here, a few drops there. He gathered her up again, held her tightly, which made her sore muscles worse, though at this point she didn't care. She couldn't get close enough to him, and even that didn't make her feel safe. Suddenly, every sound, every shadow, held danger. She'd never felt like this before in her life, and wasn't sure where to go from here. Things like sanity and serenity were not even words on her radar.

  "But, the shower," she managed after crying in his arms for who knew how long. "I hate to sound insensitive to your loss, but we both need to get cleaned up and then maybe some sleep, though I can't imagine how despite the fact I'm so tired I don't even know how I will even manage a shower." She forced a light chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

  To be honest, she also wanted the escape from not knowing how best to soothe this savage beast beside her who held her despite his own pain. No one needed magic powers, and hers were still gone, to read him, every fiber of his being screamed rage and sorrow. From his flushed, shaking skin to his corded neck and his hands clenched onto her, the man broke her heart despite her own grief, her own loss.

  Guilt made her continue on, change the subject for lack of anything better to say or do. "How are we managing the showers and then what are we going to wear?"

  "There is a suitcase in the closet over there. Ian had clothing bought for us both. New identities in a way, I guess, or at least the start of them. We go tomorrow to get the official makeover from a friend, along with official new identities. But, for now, you can grab what clothes are in there for you to sleep in, then grab a shower. I will uncuff you and then let you into the bathroom. There are no windows in there, so I will be on this side of the door waiting for you to finish. Then cuffs again, sorry. Please, cut me a break, just for tonight, and let it go, as in, willingly comply and make this easier on us both, please. Though I can't imagine it happening either, I need to at least try to rest, if not sleep. I can't do that until I know you are literally attached to me."

  "I will. Just let me in to shower," she said, her voice quiet, as she held back another onslaught of tears suddenly burning her eyes.

  She refused to get upset with herself. With all she'd been through, this level of exhaustion could make the strongest of humans weepy, as one could see in Jacob's face. Hell, the man had almost broken down into tears in her presence, that granted her the right to a few tears of her own.

  Once she'd grabbed clothes, trying not to react to the fact that whomever Ian had sent out had bought her some long t-shirt with a stupid saying on it about dreams or some shit, she held up her hand to ask to be released. While pettiness had somehow emerged in her brain, she knew not where it had come from or why, just that it unsettled her, seemed out of place. Of course, right now, she didn't know what protocol was on emotions and thoughts. Nothing felt right. Nothing seemed right. She suddenly felt defeated and stood with her shoulders slumped and her eyes downcast. Jacob held up their shackled wrists and began to unlock her cuff. Once done, he held her hand and opened the door as he waited for her to walk in.

  Once inside, the door snicked closed quietly behind her, her shaking escalated. The sudden loss of his presence, even though she knew him to be just outside the door, literally shook her to her core. She managed, with weak, shaking fingers, to remove her clothing, letting each ruined item fall into the wastebasket. Never had she felt more vulnerable naked, and yet, no one could see her. Looking around her, checking twice to see if anyone stood in the dingy, dimly lit bathroom that fit maybe two people at best, she shook her head at her lunacy. She stepped into the shower, now only wanting to get it over with and get back to being cuffed to the large man outside. How that suddenly seemed like a good thing, she had no idea, but she wanted to be back beside him for more reasons than she could manage to define.

  Her savior, indeed, she mused as the tears began to fall in earnest. She had no idea how they'd come to this so literal point, and she wasn't up to reliving the horrors to figure it out. She could no longer blame Gerri, or anyone else. She could only imagine the two women, Gerri and her mother, possibly huddled together in sorrow. Gerri, no longer the spitfire, helping her mother deal with her grave loss.

  As the hot water sluiced down over her sore muscles, ones she all the sudden listened to the complaints of, she slid down to seated in the tub. Ignoring the uncleanliness factor, she went limp, her legs and arms resting against the sides her only means of staying upright. Water streamed down over her head, mixing with the tears she let flow in earnest now. The sobs ripped from her overused and abused lungs with pain, though she couldn't stop them. She only hoped the water covered the sound, lest Jacob come in to check on her.

  When she'd exhausted herself, each and every emotion, she used the horrible, flowery scented soap to scrub herself clean, several times over, moving with a sudden influx of panicked energy, before finishing up, drying off as quick as she could manage, and then fighting the stupid nightgown down over her moist skin. She felt silly, stupid, sad, and spent, as she stormed to the door with the last ounce of her strength. Opening it, she put up her wrist for him to bind her to him again. She wouldn't take the time, nor had she the inclination, to deal with the why of the comfort in that act now.

  At the simplest level, he'd become some kind of savior, not of her love life, but of her actual life. The fact that she still moved air in and out of her lungs and all of that shit, she owed to him. She couldn't manage a way to thank him other than to simply obey him, and she took comfort in the new normal, the only thing she had to hold onto—being close to him kept her alive.

  Him walking into the bathroom without her, her arm pulled toward him, awoke her from her stupor.

  "Wait? What now?" she asked, as she found him looking down at his arm and hers, the thick chain that linked them together.

  "This time you have to come in. I'm sorry, but I can't leave you out there alone."

  "Where am I supposed to go, in here, while you shower?"

  "Again, my apologies, but..." he said, looking down to the exposed pipe under the sink.

  "Fine," she sighed.

  She didn't even have it in her to berate herself for not fighting him on this newest nonsense. He unhooked his wrist, attaching his cuff to the exposed pipe, and threw a towel onto the floor. He motioned for her to sit down on it.

  She plopped down hard, the impact of it vibrating throughout every limb. Mad at her eyes for threatening tears again, she lowered her head into her hands She was stronger than this, an independent business woman who handled all sorts of issues in her life on her own, and yet, this, this almost killed stuff, cuffed to a good guy and shit, this had reduced her to a babbling, sniffling, weak woman. Or, she thought, she was just too tired to deal with anymore anything for the day. Her body had no energy left. She couldn't remember that last time she'd even eaten, as her stomach both growled and ached with a wave of queasiness.

  She looked up then, willing to be whatever her body needed.

  "Are you going to watch," he said, waking her blurring eyes up as he removed his shirt, tossing it onto the basket already overflowing with her yoga clothes.

  "Serves you right for cuffing me to a sink," she spat, trying to sound like she meant it though in reality she'd not felt any anger, nor had her tone indicated any.

  "Suit yourself," he said with a shrug as he undid his belt, the button, and then the zipper on his dirty jeans.

  He had no qualms about undressing in front of her, and her stomach began to flutter at the sight of the muscles she'd only imagined many times being exposed. She couldn't look away, though some inkling in the back of her mind told her to do so. She turned her turned away while, despite her, her eyes stayed fixed on him, on the skin slowly being revealed, on each hill and valley it covered over large muscles.

  When his erection, semi-hard, sprang free from his underwear, she
inhaled sharply before she realized she had even made a sound.

  "A beautiful woman is watching me undress. How is a man not supposed to react to that?"

  She looked down at her full legs, exposed underneath the ugly, pastel blues and grays of her nightshirt. The beautiful woman thing, especially at this moment, she just couldn't understand. Looking back up at him, her eyes wide, her face drawn in exhaustion, she watched his brows furrow. Completely naked, he crouched down in front of her, his hands going to her arms, making her gasp at the contact. She cursed her eyes for tearing up again. She'd obviously lost control of her body, her last shred of sanity.

  Some sleep, you just need some sleep, she told herself. Everything will be better in the morning. It has to be.

  "Samantha, you have to know how beautiful you are?"

  When she just sat there, dumbfounded, unable and unwilling to dare words, he continued on.

  "Maybe it is the day clouding my judgment, but faced with losing you today, tasked with your safety, I won't hold back what I feel any longer. I won't burden you with it right now either, but I am going to be honest. You are a beautiful, very special woman that it has been a privilege to protect. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that. Weird day, huh? Even for me. Anyway, guess I'll get that shower now," he said, looking away from her as if suddenly bashful.

  She sat there, the flush of her cheeks and neck warming her as he turned on the shower, sent more steam into the already humid room. Having been so close to this amazing specimen of a man, who obviously had a huge heart, she let herself realize that he'd stolen hers whether she wanted to admit it or not.

  In her fatigue, she still managed to counter to the fact that she needed him. In this moment, like in every moment she wasn't physically attached to her savior, she sort of panicked. Natural, given the day. Had to be.

  Hell, she didn't just want their arms cuffed together, she wanted his arms around her again, like they had been in the wall and in the truck. As he'd finished with his shower, got out, dried off, and dressed, she'd kept her head down, afraid to really look again, though the bathroom was small, and he was a very large man. Besides, the image of him naked had been seared into her brain. It wasn't something she'd soon, if ever, forget. How her life had changed so dramatically since this morning, she'd no idea.

  Once he had her cuffed to him again, he led her into the room and opened up the dorm room sized fridge that doubled as a TV stand.

  "Ian had it stocked by the same person who rented the room, bought and delivered the clothes. I'm starving, though not sure I can actually eat anything. How about you?"

  "Same, I guess."

  "We should at least try. He has some basics, turkey on wheat, a few sodas, a few beers, a couple of candy bars. Nothing elaborate. Bag of chips here beside the TV, too."

  She looked over, having not even noticed them before as they'd walked to the bathroom.

  "I'm good with any of it. Although, I'd rather have a soda than a beer, right now. As much as I need the alcohol to calm my nerves, I'm not sure my stomach would be too happy with it."

  "Seems someone anticipated that, kept to bland like a turkey sandwich, plain chips, and a regular old soda. The candy bar is about the most elaborate thing in here with both nougat and caramel. How about I just toss it all on the bed. We can turn on the TV if you like, too. A distraction, maybe all of it together."

  "Sure," she agreed.

  Maneuvering around having the one arm each cuffed to each other thing going on, they managed with little effort to get on the bed and sit side by side. Each had one hand free to eat, at least, though sometimes she had to put something into her cuffed hand to use the other to unwrap it. A few times, their efforts had had them almost laughing, or making a sound similar followed by the exchanged of short-lived smiles.

  Once she got a few bites in her, she realized just how hungry she'd been. Although, a few bites more, and her stomach had had enough. So much for being a stress eater. She guessed there was stress, and then there was sheer terror. It was her first at the latter. After they were done, the TV blaring some stupid infomercial neither of them were paying any attention to, he'd pushed what they hadn't eaten into a small trash can, and turned off the unneeded noise.

  "You have to be as tired as I am. I'm sorry I can't uncuff you, or I wouldn't sleep. And if I don't get at least a few hours after today, I'm going to be useless even with coffee tomorrow. Will you do me the kindness of not fighting me on this like the bathroom? We can just sleep, side by side, our hands don't even have to touch," he said, as he left his arm by hers, and scooted down flat onto the bed.

  He sat up again when she interlaced her fingers with his.

  "While you have bothered me being overbearing today, I am also well aware, now at least, that you did, with all of this, save my life. I am grateful. I also find, that I'm more tired than I've probably ever been in my life, and so I am also finding that I'm out of sorts, not really like myself. Right now, I find being cuffed to you a comfort, though I can't believe I'm thinking it let alone saying it. Is this that syndrome they talk about in victims already," she said, forcing a partial smile to show she'd attempted to joke.

  "I doubt it, but good, whatever it is. Because I hate having you upset with me. Lie down, then, Samantha. I'll hold your hand as you fall asleep. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

  "I know that. And, while I'm not going to run, I don't think, at least not at this moment, I don't even think I could. Still, there is something reassuring in knowing that no one could even snatch me away from you. Would you mind terribly if I asked you to hold me, too?" Her voice had faded off to barely a whisper at the last request, as she'd tensed up her weary bones waiting for his response.

  "Say that last part again. I don't think I heard you correctly."

  "Hold me," she said, the crack in her voice warning of the tears that came right after.

  She scooted in lifting the arm cuffed to his, and awkwardly laid her head on his chest, bringing her free hand over beside it. His bare chest. He'd put on some kind of gym shorts, but nothing else after his shower. He said nothing, just draped his free arm over her side and held her tight, let her cry. The tears fell onto his chest, though he didn't complain. Beyond caring at that point, she snuggled in as much as she could manage, letting their legs touch, taking a woman's delight in the way his breath caught when she'd done so.

  "I'm sorry," she mumbled against his skin before she kissed his chest, once, lightly, then again, not stopping herself once she'd gotten a smell of him, a taste of him.

  "Samantha," he moaned, he tried a feeble protest.

  "Please. Say nothing," she begged. "I need this. Right now. I need you. Consequences be damned. Someone tried to kill me today, and right now I want to live. I want to feel alive."

  "But, I don't want you to hate me in the morning. And, if you don't stop soon, I can't be held responsible for what I do. I want you. Hell, I've wanted you, Samantha, since the first day I met you. So, this, for me, it has to be real, not a one night thing, not a grab for life. I want you to want me, to know without a shadow of a doubt, without any extenuating circumstances, that you want me."

  "I do. I really do. I've tried so hard to deny it, to not let myself feel anything where you were concerned, lest you end up my savior that I feared I could no longer trust myself with. If I wanted to stay single, you couldn't be my savior, and yet, in even more a sense of the word than they meant, you are. I can't know what tomorrow brings for us. What I know is now I need you. I'm begging you. Please. Hold me. Like a man holds a woman."

  "You are not making any sense, Samantha, and I'm tired of this savior thing. I don't know what game you and Ian have been playing with that word, or how it pertains to me. But really, Sam, when I take you, I want to take you. I don't want to be cuffed to you out of necessity, I want you cuffed to my bed because you want to be there. Beyond that, this savior thing? What the hell? Explain."

  She sighed, tears coming stronger, her voice lost to
sobs.

  "No, Sam, please. I didn't mean to make you cry."

  He pulled her up then, on top of him. Her legs straddled around his abs, the tight muscles jumping under her thighs. His hands cupped her face, the one of hers cuffed to his hung there, along for the ride.

  She leaned down and kissed him then, first tentatively, then it grew, rougher, the need evident from both of them, as he bit at her lip before his tongue invaded her mouth. She moaned, and he crushed her body to his for a glorious second that sent massive ripples of need and ecstasy that couldn't be quenched throughout her tense body. This lasted only a few mind-numbing seconds before he gently pulled her face up away from his.

  "I'm trying to be strong here, but you are not helping. We are going to be stuck together for some time. It would be nice if you didn't hate me in the morning for taking advantage of you when you are so vulnerable."

  She bristled at the indication of weakness. "I'm a strong woman. If I want you now, I want you."

  "You are not thinking straight, and over the past few weeks you have come to mean more to me than this. You are an amazing woman, and when I take you into my arms, my bed, it's going to be more that a clutch at life through sex with anyone willing."

  "I'm not asking anyone willing, I'm asking you. I want you. I've wanted you, too." She stopped short at the admission.

  "But, if you are being honest with yourself, and I can see you have just come to realize it, too, had today not happened, the attack, had I not cuffed you to me and dragged you here, we would not be in bed together tonight. You know it and I know it. I want you, Sam. Damn, I really want you. But I don't want it to be tonight after all that has happened. I don't want to risk it, the possibility of what we could have together, when, for the first time in forever, I've wanted someone for more than a good fuck to release sexual tension. I will hold you. All night long. We will get some sleep. And, if you feel the same in the morning, I'm all yours, though I would prefer our first time not to be in some flea bag motel."