Page 55 of Fixation
Her throat must feel like knives.
“Shh.” I’m all concern. All empathy. My bedside manners have never been better. I return the spoon to the bowl and press a thumb to her parted lips. Slide my palm around her strained throat. “It won’t do you any good. The basement is soundproof.”
Her chest rises and falls. “Mine isn’t.”
Ah, clever girl. She figured out our homes are identical. That we probably live on the same block. I wonder if she gets just how close we’ve been to each other for the past two months.
“Mine is. I had the windows barricaded before I moved in here. The door is thick. Someone would really have to lean into it to hear anything that goes on down here.”
Her pupils are blown, flush deepening as her jaw works.
A hidden side of her likes this. Being bound. Powerless. Having someone else take care of her for a change.
My possessiveness responds to her like a moth to a flame.
Before I brought her here, I wanted her. Studied her. Learned new things about her.
I’ve been falling for her.
It’s in the way she always tucks her hair behind her ear. The broad smile that appears when she finishes one of her custom orders.
Her impatient pacing when she hurls another one of her sketches into the trash. I want her.
But now, this…how she needs me, I’m notfalling.
I’ve been hurled into the center of the earth.
I could be that person for her. The one who gives more than he takes.
The man she’ll always run to instead of from.
She’ll agree with me soon.
“Enough with the screaming, then,” I add, picking the spoon back up. “You should eat.”
10
ANDERSON
Harper lowers her eyebrows. Perfect prey. “Fine. You’ll give me proof that you’re a real doctor if I eat this one bite?”
Bargaining. That’s cute.
That’s fucking hot.
“I would’ve.” I press the spoon to her sealed lips. “But you didn’t listen the first time I asked. You defied me. You need to learn how to be good. I’m only doing this for you.”
“What? No, you bastard.” She has no clue that making me work for it gets me harder. Turns my thoughts into the most fucked up, depraved ones I’ve ever had.
“You can’t?—”
I shove the spoon into her mouth.
“The price just went up to five spoons, kitten.” Dammit. The nickname slipped again. “Miss Arlington.”
Her eyes widen. Eyebrows shooting up her forehead.
She chews and swallows, regardless.
