Page 130 of Bad Attitude
Was that the real reason for her waking-up expletive?
Someone has really done a number on this woman, and I went and trod on it that very first night with her, courtesy of Mercer’s fucking stupid face-to-face. And then she choselast night, of all nights, to come and visit.
That could’ve been so much worse.
“I told you,” I say, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Raven bites at her lip, looking uncertain and nervous, and my cock twitches. Again, I want to rip that comforter away and pin her down, but I stop myself for another reason. This time, it’s my declarations of commitment that are making her skittish.
Definitely too early for ‘I love you.’
“I made breakfast,” I say instead. “You have about two minutes.”
“Do you have something I can wear?”
I can smell the bacon beginning to burn. “A shirt? Top drawer. Between the sex toys and the gun.”
She gives a little gasp and I chuckle as I turn away. “And before you ask, my little hellcat, they’re all brand new, completely unused.” I pause. “Apart from the clothes and the gun.”
Raven pads out a minute later, hair finger-combed into a semblance of orderliness, my T-shirt falling down to mid-thigh. Longer than the coat she came in. Knowing she’s naked beneath it makes me have to stop and compose myself.
I nod at the small table against one wall. “Make yourself comfortable. Just be a minute.”
She takes a chair at it, watching me finish up the cooking. “So youdoown underwear.”
A laugh slips out. “Yeah, I do. Not many pairs, though.”
“Brand new and completely unused, huh?”
I throw her a smile. She was nervous when she woke up, and already her spirit has recovered enough to make pointed jokes. Her resilience is formidable. “Let’s settle for ‘clean.’”
Serving up, I carry our plates over to the table, then fetch the glasses of OJ and silverware for us. She’s not looking at the food, but staring at me. At my boxers. No… at my thigh.
There’s a fresh bruise, the skin dark and slightly swollen, but she didn’t break open the healing scar.It’s tender, the muscle stiff, but I can walk on it just fine if I’m careful.
“Fuck, Declan,” she breathes, her eyes wide. She drags her gaze to my face with an effort. “I’m so,sosorry.”
“It was an evening of mutual punishment,” I say, placing her glass down and taking my own seat. As much to block her view of my leg as anything else. “I think we’re even.”
Raven blushes at that, and again I want to rip that T-shirt off her. This woman is going to play havoc with my control.
“Eat before it gets cold.” I nod to her food, because she’ll sit there feeling uncomfortable otherwise. Picking up my own fork, I lead by example.
She’s slow to get going, but takes a mouthful of scrambled eggs, and then another.
“Tell me something,” I say, forking a piece of bacon.
“Yes?”
“No, I mean… something about you. Anything.”
She doesn’t reply for a moment, taking a mouthful, chewing, swallowing. A sip of her juice. “Like what?”
That response doesn’t surprise me. She’s so tightly wound, sharing can’t come naturally.
“You left home at what, eighteen?”
“Yes.”
