Page 58 of Expressionate
A cold numbness steals into my veins, sucking the emotions and feelings right out of me. I know exactly who this is. I'm not surprised that my hands don't even bother to shake when I place my phone, face down, on the counter and quietly turn off the stove and remove the tea kettle. I pick the phone back up just as someone knocks on the door. Ipause.
Beverly comes out of her room down the hall and looks at me, standing in the doorway of the kitchen with my phone clutched in my hand. She scowls at me. "No, you stay right there," she sneers. "I'll get the door. I'm on my way out,anyway."
I stare at her as she passes, numbness encroaching. The door opens, and Tax is there, one hand leaning on the door frame. He has a ready smile in place and when he sees I'm not the one who answered, it dropsaway.
"She's right behind me," I hear Beverly say as she strides out of the apartment with her clutch in one hand and a faux fur coat in the other. It doesn't matter that it's not even cold out and it won't be for several moreweeks.
"Love?" Tax's voice breaks a spell inside of me and my phone slips out of my hand, crashing to the floor. Good, I think. I hope the damn thing breaks and shatters into a million pieces. I don't want any reminders of my past, of my not-so-distant past. "Hey, what'swrong?"
Tax comes into the apartment and closes the door behind him. He glances once from my face to the phone on the floor. I don't have a moment to stop him before he's bending down to pick it up. He flips it over so that the screen is facing up and the damn thing isn't shattered. In fact, it isn't cracked in the slightest. The picture is still there. He stills, his eyes catching on it. Shame washes overme.
There are several moments of silence where my hand is half raised to stop him, frozen midair, and his eyes are locked on the screen. I drop my arm and a deep rumble slides up from his throat. Dark eyes, the same color of the darkest sky, meet mine. He steps forward and, instinctively, I take a step back. No. He shouldn’t touch me. I’m damaged. I’m broken. I’mdirty.
We repeat the motion a few more times until my back comes to rest against the far counter and he's not just hovering over me, he's straining over me. He drops the phone on the counter and then his fists grab the edge, digging in on either side of my body. I suck in a breath and then another and another. No matter how many times I try to inhale, nothing comes. I can’tbreathe.
"Who. Fucking. Texted. You." Though it's a question, it doesn't come out as one. Each word is enunciated to its fullest potential, the rage and danger in his low tone is obvious and enthralling. I stare up at him. The spell is broken, but I still feel the numbness creeping back into my limbs. I just can't deal with it. I can't bring myself to even wonder why Danny is texting me again all of a sudden. Or where he got my number. It's not listed, I know that. Tax's eyes drill into me as he waits for an answer. I shrink away from him, but I can't tear my gazeaway.
"Love," he growls. He's so close that when he speaks, his breath brushes against my lips. "Who wasthat?"
"It's nothing," I say. "Just an old..." What? I ask myself. What was Danny? How did I explain?Nothing, to worry about, Tax. It's just an old boyfriend who used me for sex and had me sleep with his friends because he knew I didn't have anywhere else to go. I thought I had cut all ties, but it looks like he's back and wanting to start somethingagain.
My heart thumps against my ribcage. No, he can’t know where I am. When I left, I didn’t take anything with me. There shouldn’t be anything leading here. My chest hurts – my heart pounds around my ribcage, like a deranged mental patient banging helplessly against the bars of its cell. I swallow reflexively. The closer Tax is, the more the numbness starts to wear away. I’m half torn by the feeling – whether or not I should want the numbness gone, or if I want it to stay. Because when the numbness wears away, all that will be left is pain and shame. I push against Tax's chest and for a moment, I think he might ignore my feeble attempts to move him, but then he pullsaway.
"It's nothing." My voice is smooth, calm as I pull away and pick up my phone again. It reveals nothing about the dark turmoil beneath my surface. At least, I hope itdoesn’t.
"Love," Tax catches my wrist in his grip just as I turn toward the hallway. I glance back at him. "If someone fucks with you, I want you to tellme."
"Why?" The question shoots across my lips before I can stop for a moment andthink.
"Because you’re mine," he says, “you and me, we’re together. That means you come to me with shit like this. You don’t fucking bottle it up.” He tugs me closer and I go – a planet gravitating into the orbit of her fiery sun. But I’m not a planet. I’m an icy moon with no one and nothing. I twist my arm and he releases his grip on my wrist easily. Though his eyes let me know we are nowhere near done talking aboutthis.
"Why are you here?" I ask, deflecting. "Did you need me forsomething?"
He shakes his head, face serious. My eyes steal over him, drinking him in from the scruff on his jaw to the whitened markings stretched across his knuckles from where recent scabs have been. My head feels disconnected from my body, floating and yet...heavy at the same time. Like the limb, itself, is filled with helium, but the thoughts are anchors that tie me down in chains to the real world. A world I want toescape.
Tax moves forward, his giant body moving with a shocking, but deadly grace until he fills my entire vision. I back up, my spine hitting the counter once more. My hands go back and the phone clatters back to the floor. I gasp for breath, shoving my palms against my eyes. Why now? I ask myself. Why would Danny come back now? When Tax scoops me up, my legs wrap around his hips of their own accord, and my eyes close without my permission, my head lowering to his shoulder. Something about him grounds me, dragging me back from the brink. I give up any semblance of fighting him as my hands creep up his arms to wrap around his neck. I tuck my face into his neck, pressing my lips to his scorching hot skin. Fire and Ice. That’s what we are. I freeze over and he melts me back tonormal.
"You're okay, Love," he whispers – almost as if he realizes that I need to hear the words. "You're okay." Even I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear them until they’re tumbling out of his mouth. The thing is, I don't know if he's trying to convince me orhimself.
His arms squeeze me tighter, crushing me to his chest as he stomps through my empty apartment, heading for my bedroom. He kicks at the door and it swings inward, crashing against the wall as he stalks in, depositing me gently on the bed before he whips my shirt over my head. My arms fall, lifeless to my sides. My skin feels electrified and yet, I feel numb everywhere except where he touches. When his fingers brush over my shoulders, sliding a lock of hair away, I shudder. His eyes narrow, but he doesn't comment as he lowers himself to the floor and undoes the button of my jeans, sliding those down my legs along with my underwear. I shouldn’t let him touch me, but I just can’t help it. Even my shame won’t let me keep him away. If he ever fucking leaves me, I hope he makes it hurt enough for me to stay normal – to stay just like this. Then he's unclipping my bra and I'm sitting naked in front of a man – not for the first time – that controls so much ofme.
Tax backs away and reaches back, tearing his own shirt over hisbody.
"Are we going to have sex?" Iask.
He pauses with his hands over the button of his jeans. His arms slowly lower to his sides and he shakes his head, bending down to pick me up again. "Not tonight, Lovely," he says. "Not tonight." I don't know if he realizes he has repeated himself for the second timenow.
Tax carries me out into the hall with my head resting on his shoulder. A small part inside of me – the woman that craves acceptance and protection and want and need and everything that Tax offers – wants to crawl as deep as she can into Tax, let him consume her and take her and hold her and cherish her. I'm scared to realize that it wouldn't take much of a push to let that small part of myself takeover.
We enter the bathroom and Tax kicks the door closed behind us, setting me on the counter next to the sink. I recline back and let my naked back press against the cold mirror. Tax flicks on the light and then bends down to remove his boots and undo his jeans completely. He steps towards the shower, reaching behind the curtain to twist the knobs until the water begins steaming up over the curtain rod. Finally, Tax shucks off his jeans and boxers and holds out his hand tome.
"Do you trustme?"
I stare at his hand, wanting to take it, but so afraid of what it means. His dark eyes assess me, waiting, oh so patient with me. Shivers dance down my spine. I force one arm up and let my hand fall into his. His warm fingers curl over my own and he helps me down off the counter, leading me to the shower. We step inside and the water cuts across my face and hair, slicking the strands to my neck and cheek. Tax lets go of my hand and then both of his palms are on my cheeks, sliding up into my hair, pushing the strands back over my ears out of myface.
Steam rises around us, heating the confined space. His chest is so close, covered in a stretch of golden tan flesh with etchings of woven black tattoos that decorate the space across to his sides and arms. One of my hands, I realize, is touching his stomach. I curl my fingers into a fist, feeling my knuckles drag through the water sluicing over historso.
"Lovely..." Tax's head bends until he presses his forehead to my shoulder, his eyes facing down over my breasts to our feet in the tub. I inhale sharply as his wide palms move to my hips and he grips me and pulls me into his body. I can feel all of him over all of me. His chest muscles, his rigged abdomen, his cock brushing against mystomach.
