He deadpans.
Then he's not looking at me.
I drop my arms immediately as I follow his gaze to one of the foreign henchmen standing across the floor, dutifully at his post, but transfixed on me.
I look at Henchman Jeeves who is staring ahead, not at me or Clay. He isn't oblivious though; the tic in his jaw is proof enough that he knows what is coming.
Time moves slowly now as I flick my eyes from him to watch Clay stride towards the man. Across the floor.
I look at the guard; his eyes haven't left me.Stupid.To Henchman Jeeves, who is now closing the gap between us. To Clay Butcher as he passes a cabinet. Back and forth. The man's attention is still fixed, ignorant to the slow, quiet movements that have death and danger circling him.
Stupid—
Clay reaches for a thick based bottle of alcohol. Then everything speeds up, and he's on the man instantly, smashing the bottle on the wall beside his face, brown liquid glistening with shiny shards. The man breaks from his trance, startled.
The sharp blades meet the underside of the henchman's right eye. He is now pinned to the wall by Clay Butcher's formidable form, and I hold my breath.
"See something you want to taste?" Clay hisses, leaning in, but suddenly Henchman Jeeves steps in front of my view, hiding his boss. Yet, I still hear the man howl even though I can't see what's happening. "I should hollow your eyes from your skull."
My eyes shoot to HJ's tight features. My friend. My guard. The man shielding me from witnessing something I may not be able to handle, but Icanhandle it.
"Move," I order, trying to step past him. He refuses. I don't need nor desire his protection in this case. I understand this. I'm not that soft. "Sir," I call soothingly, hoping my voice will somehow break Clay Butcher from his state of feral possessiveness.
HJ twists to see his boss, so I take the opportunity to sidestep from the blockage of his body. Clay's back bunches as I speak. The glass is an inch inside the man's flesh. "Tell him to leave so you can come here and touch me," I plead in a breathy cadence, experiencing a thrill and love and a kind of intoxicating power stir within me.
I watch Clay lower the bottle to his side. We are both learning how to be together. What it means… All thesefeelings.I miss him. When he's away it sickens me.
And then when he comes home, returns to me, there is this eutrophic moment. The moment I need. A passionate display that he cares. I'm insecure… I know.
How can I not be?
"Apparently, she is allowing you to keep your eyes," he states, his tone somehow smooth and commanding, but also flaring with a snarl of restraint. "Leave. All of you."
They don't waste any time.
All three henchmen leave.
I glance at Henchman Jeeves, the last man to exit, closing the door behind him and he nods at me.
But my breath hitches when I look back at Clay. He's staring at me and then at the door HJ disappeared through, his shoulders squared and stiff. His jaw pulses and I realise the interaction just now—HJ nodding at me—bothers him.
With Clay's eyes fixed to my body, he places the smashed bottle on its side, blood dripping from the shiny surface. Not a lot. Just enough to explain the man's choked howl of anguish.
Leisurely loosening his tie, his tall, dark, muscular figure walks confidently over to me. He takes a firm hold of my chin, his fingers dipping into my cheek, arching my face up. A harsh hold to foreground a serious message.
Leaning down so that his lips talk against my puckered mouth, he says, "Do you need some kind of reassurance from Bolton, little deer?"
My heart thrashes in my neck, but his mouth is so close to mine, his energy sparking in volatility, I'm quivering with need for him. Finding his feral state of jealousy seductive.
Breathing deeply, I pull away from his grasp, provoking his fingers to give and allow me reprieve.
Softly, slowly, like edging towards a growling dog, I reach up and touch his face. "Have you ever been in love before, Sir?"
His jaw clenches beneath my palm, while his eyes are intent on mine. "No, sweet girl. I don't believe I ever have. Until now."
My heart grows, and I beam, unable to bridle my smile at his honesty. He loves me. I know. He knows too. "Scary, isn't it?"
He grins, and it's devilish and cunning, and my knees buckle from the devastating beauty of it. "For the world, sweet girl. It is incrediblyscaryfor the world."