I’m bad at shoving my foot in my mouth, and it’s showcased in the worst way when I snatch my phone up from the counter before nudging my head to my bedroom. “We should do it now while they’re fresh.”
Fresh? Seriously, Maddox! That’s the best you could come up with?
“I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
“It’s fine,” Demi murmurs before adding on a set of words that reveals she’s anything but. “I’m fine.”
12
Demi
I contemplated suicide by rolling out of a vehicle driving over seventy miles an hour, was almost sexually assaulted by my uncle, had my hair wrenched from my scalp by one of his hired goons, and cried in the chest of a man I’ve had a crush on longer than I’ve been a woman, yet my knees are wobbling more now than they did last night when I stumbled out of my uncle’s Audi.
I’m not scared.
I’m stupidly nervous.
And perhaps a tad bit excited.
I thought Maddox would look at me differently. My stomach convulsed when I caught my reflection in the mirror last night, but for some insane reason, the way Maddox stares at me would have you convinced my face isn’t as battered as it feels.
Don’t get me wrong, the uncontrollable tick his jaw gets every time his hooded eyes float over my face indicates it’s pretty messed up, but I’ll take that response over the one I was anticipating. I’d even accept the look of disgust if it keeps him here with me instead of seeking my uncle in the shady shadows of the underworld.
The Walsh brothers aren’t solely known for their good looks and player ways. Their fierce protection of those they love is also blatantly obvious. That’s why I’m so shocked Justine is attending a university over a hundred miles from here. I didn’t think her brothers’ tethers extended that far.
“Did you want to do it here or in the bathroom?” I spin to face Maddox, almost stumbling when I realize just how close his stalk is. My lips are mere inches from his, although nowhere near as close as they are to his chest. This is the annoying part of being a short-ass. I’d have a better chance of ‘accidentally’ sucking his nipple into my mouth than his tongue. I’d take either, but since I’m unsure if that is what he wants, I have to act nonchalant. “The lighting in the bathroom is probably better.”
“Sounds good,” Maddox replies, his voice throaty and deep. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
Excitement blisters through my veins until it dawns on me what he’s doing. Flirting is his go-to emotion when he feels snowed under. Mine is pretending I’m fine.
“Can you spin around for a tick?” I sheepishly wave my hand at my bra dumped at the foot of Maddox’s bed. “I need to put my bra back on.”
His eyes drop to my now-budded nipples before he curses, then turns around. “Sorry. Bad habit I don’t ever see me giving up.”
The gash in my cheek burns when I smile. I’ll suffer the injustice because that wasn’t a preplanned slide into seduction mode. It was a genuine slip-up.
“Okay. You’re good to go,” I announce once I have my strapless bra in place.
Maddox spins around for barely a second before he snaps his eyes shut, and the veins weaved throughout his tattooed arms pulsate as furiously as the throb between my legs. He’s shirtless, and I can no longer act as if I haven’t noticed the fact.
“Are you sure you’re good to go because, to me, it looks like you’re not wearing a shirt.” He pops open one of his eyes, does the quickest scan of my body, then closes it tight again. “Or pants. You’re either standing in front of me in a pair of teeny tiny I-really-fucking-hope-I’m-not- dreaming panties and bra, or I’m dreaming. Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”
“You’re not dreaming.”
“Are you sure?” I giggle like a schoolgirl when he drags his hand across the front of his low-riding sleeping pants that show off every spectacular inch of his ‘V’ muscle. “Because I’d rather blame a wet dream for the mess in my pants than the removal of dental braces.” When his fingertips come up free of carnage, he sighs heavily. “Jesus, Demi. You can’t scare a man like that. I was certain I had done a Flint.”
Still laughing, I pace into the bathroom. “If you had, the entire Walsh reputation would have been voided by default.”
“I know,” he replies, following after me. “Why do you think I was so worried?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer him, he simply requests me to stand in front of the tiled wall next to the freestanding shower. “Although I now feel a little guilty about what Robert went through.” He grabs at his crotch, returning my smile. “He had a reason for his boner. Do you remember the dress you wore to the homecoming dance?”
I shake my head, truly forgetful.
Maddox doesn’t seem as absentminded as me. “The midsection was cut out in a crisscross design. If you squinted your eyes the right way, you could almost pretend you were wearing a bikini top.” He moves my hair to one side of my neck before tilting my chin, so the bruise my uncle’s goon inflicted when he grabbed ahold of me is front and center. “It didn’t seem like your style. It was nice and all, just—”
“More something Ophelia would have worn?”
He snaps my profile two times before he lowers his iPhone from his face, so I can’t miss the lift of his chin. “Do you miss her?”
Ophelia died in a traffic accident over four years ago. I want to say her death was the commencement of my uncle’s downfall, but that would be a lie. Dying was the only way Ophelia was guaranteed any peace, so although I do miss her, I believe she’s better off where she is.
“You don’t have to explain your motives to me, Demi,” Maddox assures when my quiet causes an awkward stretch of silence to extend between us. “Nobody can judge your life because they’ve never walked a day in your shoes.”
The same blue eyes that peered down at me fourteen years ago watch me now, but there’s just not an ounce of green to them, freeing me from the worry I’m about to make a fool of myself.
The scent of the homemade hollandaise sauce Maddox burned to the bottom of the pan an hour ago fans my lips when I balance on my tippy toes and plant my mouth on his. He doesn’t weave his fingers through my hair like I’m hoping, nor does he band his arms around my back to draw me closer, he merely murmurs a prayer against my lips loud enough for me to hear. “Please, God, forgive me for what I’m about to do.”
I assume he’s begging for forgiveness because he’s about to reject me. I’ve never been happier to be wrong in my life. He doesn’t pull back like he begs himself to do two times. He kisses me—once. It’s a frugal yet carnal embrace that has me craving so much more.
“Don’t. Fuck. I can’t,” Maddox murmurs against my mouth when I do the movement I wanted his fingers to do twenty seconds ago. I weave them through his reddish-blond locks before tilting my mouth so we’re better aligned. “You’re hurt and vulnerable. I don’t want to take advantage of you.” He peppers my lips, jaw, and neck with kisses with each word he speaks. He even adds a little nibble to his longer sentence. “Caidyn will fucking kill me if he walks in on us now.”