He tightens his hold on my mouth, sweeping into my space with the sureness of a hurricane. My breasts brush against the hardness of his chest with every inhale.
“Miss? I’m coming in.”
I grab hold of the intruder’s arm and implore him with my eyes. He narrows his to slits but slowly slides his hand from my mouth. He keeps it hovering, ghosting close, probably to shut me up again if I scream for help.
But that’s the thing, I don’t need help, because he’s not a threat.
Or at least, he wasn’t in the past. I’m not quite sure in this situation.
“I’m okay!” I say loud enough for the guard to hear. I’m surprised I don’t stammer or sound nervous, considering the situation.
The door opens a bit, but it remains in that position as the guard’s voice drifts in. “I’m coming in to make sure, miss.”
“Don’t! I’m… I’m naked.”
The clearing of a throat comes from the guard and I can almost imagine his flustered face. He knows his head would be on a stick if he saw me nude.
Unless my life was in jeopardy.
Which isn’t the case.
I don’t think.
“I’m really cool. I’m going back to sleep now. Don’t wake me up.”
Silence for one, two, three seconds—
“Very well, miss. If there’s anything, the boss will come to see you.”
The door closes and I release a long breath.
My next inhale causes my chest to brush against the not-stranger, and I pause, staring up at him.
“The boss he just mentioned is my brother, and I can’t keep him out with the ‘I’m naked’ excuse. He’ll just come in, eyes closed, pick up a sheet or something, and throw it on me, then do his search. He’s brutal like that, so you really want to go before he comes if you don’t want to have ‘Beaten to death’ written on your tombstone. Oh, also, are you going to stay glued to me for a long time? I might seem cool, but it’s actually hard to breathe when you’re around.”
He stares at me blankly, absolutely not impressed nor derailed by my word vomit. It’s a habit I’m trying to get rid of, but it’s actually harder than it sounds.
“What are you waiting for?” I whisper. “Seriously, go before Jeremy shows up. If you came through the balcony door unnoticed, then return the same way. And uh, maybe give me my space back sometime soon?”
He reaches a gloved hand to my face and I think he’ll shut me up again, but his fingers wrap around my jaw.
It’s not threatening, but power simmers beneath the gesture.
No, not power.
Control.
He oozes with it to the point of suffocation.
His thumb strokes my bottom lip and it parts, just like that.
My heart hammers, and I think maybe I’m dreaming or something.
Maybe I’ve conjured so many scenarios in my twisted brain that one of them is actually coming true.
Otherwise, why would he touch me when he never has before?
And he’s not just touching any part of me. It’s my lips.