Page 19 of Tortured Whispers
“Never throw yourself at a man, Brook. You’re too fucking beautiful for that shit. Always make them come to you,” he told me.
“What if I just want a kiss though?” I asked, my knees knocking from nerves. Did I seriously just ask him about kissing a guy? The only guy I wanted to kiss was sitting right beside me.
God, what was wrong with me?
Why was I like this?
“Kiss?” Cease said the word like it was his first time hearing it. “Who do you want to kiss, Brook?” His voice grew deeper but instead of scaring me it forced my thighs to press against each other.
“Nobody,” I lied. Cease cleared his throat and gripped the steering wheel tighter in his fist, making the cords in his forearms flex. Why did he have his sleeves rolled up like that? Was it normal for that to drive someone crazy?
It was driving me in-fucking-sane.
I squirmed a bit in my seat and stared at the soft dark hair on his arm, scattering down his wrist and just barely over his hand. Was there anything not wildly gorgeous about him?
“Wanting to kiss a guy isn’t the same as throwing yourself at him. Making the first move isn’t the same thing. That’s taking charge.”
“Oh,” I nodded, taking in his answer. I forced my eyes to stare out of the window at the passing trees and buildings so that I wouldn’t keep staring at my uncle like a twisted freak.
When he pulled into a hole in the wall burger joint, my stomach rumbled. He let me order whatever I wanted once we were inside. I got a juicy burger with everything on it. Maybe chewing would help me not look at his lips when he spoke. Maybe if I focused on eating I wouldn’t melt when he smiled.
We spent more than an hour sitting in a little booth with red vinyl seats and metal napkin dispensers talking about any and everything. I almost forgot we were supposed to be seeing his house. “Promise you’ll bwing me back here,” I demanded with a smile on my lips.
“Whenever you want, Brook.” His arm was heavy around my shoulders but it was my center of gravity right then. It was the only thing pulling me down to Earth because whenever I was around Caesar, I floated.
“So, are you ready to see Casa de Powers?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s where I live now,” I joked.
“Well…this is Casa de Powers 2.0,” he laughed, opening the door to his home. It was huge. Twice the size of my house. The foyer boasted gorgeous marble flooring and a golden and glass chandelier that gave off warm light as the sun set outside.
“Wow,” I muttered, tilting my head back to look at it.
“You haven’t even seen the place and you’re already wowing?” Cease tickled my side and a laugh popped out of my mouth. We walked into the kitchen and I slipped my hand in his. It was always so smooth and warm.
“This is beautiful,” I whispered. Huge windows created a wall of glass behind the sink and gave an amazing view of his backyard. A thicket of trees created a dense line giving him privacy on all sides. I wanted to go outside and bury my toes in the blades of grass.
“Do you have air yet? It’s so humid in here.” I heard my voice and smiled at the way my words came out without being jumbled. The progress made me dizzy with happiness. Cease caught on to it too and wrapped me in a hug.
His strong arms around my slender frame felt good. They felt so good. How could something so pure and good make my body roar with desire?
“I am so proud of how well you’re speaking lately, Brook. I try not to call attention to it but it’s fucking amazing,” he beamed
“It’s because of you,” I told him, pressing the tip of my pointer finger against his hard chest.
“Me? You had it in you all along. You just needed me to watch you blossom.” He smiled down at me while I was still safe in his arms. “Oh, and to answer your question, I haven’t had the heat and air turned on yet.” When he let me go, I pulled my black hoodie off and laid it on the counter.
Something flashed in Caesar’s eyes when he looked at me. I didn’t know what it was but it made my nerve endings stand at attention like a wave a static shock washed over me.
“You don’t have to hide behind hoodies and long sleeves around me. I like you the way you are. Scars and all.” He reached out and took my hand in his then he pulled my thumb out of its hole and rolled my sleeve back. I snatched my arm away but it was too late.
He saw my fresh cut marks.
There was no mistaking the look in his eyes.
He was pissed.
“Brook, why have you been cutting again?” He growled. Anger poured off him. His spine was straight like a ruler and his shoulders were stiff and unmoving. I shrank back, snatching my hoodie from the counter and holding it over my arms.
