Page 36 of Bound

Opening the door slowly, I poked my head in and saw her sleeping. As quietly as I could, I walked to the bed, setting the plate down on the nightstand. With my hands at my sides, I watched her.

It might sound strange, but I liked watching her while she was sleeping. She was beautiful, small and fragile, but perfect.

Her hair was fanned out around her head, her cheeks and lips tinted the faintest shade of pink. She had a small button nose with freckles that spanned just beneath her eyes, stopping at the very edges.

Tilting my head, I sat down beside her and placed my hands in my lap. I could stare at her for hours and never get bored. There was something about this woman that sent prickling hairs down my arms and made my insides twist and turn.

Following the bend of her shoulder, my gaze licked her body, taking in all she had to offer. I watched her chest rise and fall with even breaths, and the delicate skin of her neck as she swallowed peacefully in her sleep.

Her curves were perfection, shaped like an hourglass, with hips I wanted grip and an ass I could ride for days. The warmth I felt flowed through me, moving through my veins and around my body. It reminded me of when I was a kid, and would drink hot chocolate after coming inside from the cold.

The heat hit me in every crevasse, every pore and strip of muscle, seeping through my stomach and into my pants. My cock thickened as her perfect raindrop-shaped tits pushed against the tight black fabric of her dress.

She looked like sleeping beauty, a princess that had been poisoned by the apple I handed her. Running my hand over the surface of her face, I didn't touch her. I was afraid to wake her, afraid to sour the moment with the anger and hatred she felt for me.

I would hate me too for what I've done.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice soft and quiet as her eyes scanned my face.

Jerking my hand away, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I'm checking on you.”

Emery watched me cautiously, shifting her body so she could push herself up. “Where's your mom? I thought she was going to do that.”

“She had to run out, but she made you lunch.” Flicking my eyes to the plate, I nodded my head. “I hope you like turkey.”

Cupping her hands in her lap, she licked her lips. “Is your father here?”

“He's not my father.” My voice came out quick and firm.

“But your mom said—”

“I know what she said, but he's not my father, he's my stepfather.” I tried to hold back the anger from my tone, but it was hard. “I used to call him that, but things haven't been good between us for a long time.”

“Well, I can only imagine why.” Her voice went faint, the words weightless and delicate as she turned her head to look at the window. “Does he know what you're capable of?”

Taking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes. “You think you understand what's going on and who I am, but you don't. Capable and willing are two different things.”

“So, I'm wrong then?”

“Yeah, you're wrong.”

“Wow,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Does that work on other people? Deny, deny, deny. I know what you did, you killed that man. And then you took me, I told you no, but you took me anyway. You can't deny that, those are the facts.” Her hand swept through the air, eyes cutting me open as they pierced my heart, and left me exposed. “I get that he threatened you, but you didn't have to take me, you could have let me go.”

“You're right,” I said, my voice scratchy and cold. “And I'm sorry you think I didn't have a choice, but the truth is, I would have killed that motherfucker regardless. I just didn't want to in front of you. I didn't want you to get involved, but here we are.” Drawing a line in the air between us, I kept my gaze on hers. “The issue is you don't know why, that's the piece you're missing.”

Huffing under her breath, she snuggled back into the blanket, and rolled over away from me. “I don't really care, it doesn't matter. It's not like you're going to tell me.”

“The less you know, the better. I'm not telling you for a good reason. I don't want you involved in this, I'm trying to make sure you don't get hurt.”

“It's a little late for that, don't you think?” Twisting to look at me over her shoulder, she furrowed her brows. “I'm here, I'm fucking broken—literally,I'm not allowed to leave, I can't call home; but you don't want me getting hurt? How does that make sense?”

Braiding my fingers in my lap, I dipped my head into my chest. “If I let you call home, can you make me a promise?”

Her eyes lit up as she shot up in bed, moving faster than I had seen since the accident. “What is it? What do you want me to do?”

“Promise me you won't tell your parents anything. Act totally normal, pretend like everything is the same as usual.”

Dropping back down, she pinched her eyes shut tight. “I don't have parents to call.” Breathing slowly, she lifted her hands to her face, and rubbed her eyes. “They've been gone for years.”

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