CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cara
My fingers shook at the prospect of news about my mother and sister. “Ok. I’ll eat the pizza. Just tell me what you know.”
“What kind?”
I blew out a breath in exasperation but I couldn’t lose it again or he might decide to tell me nothing. “Tuna and onions, I suppose.”
Growl picked up the phone and ordered pizza for six. That left more than one hour.
He must have seen the dismay in my expression because he said, “Coco and Bandit need walking. If you come along, I’ll tell you everything I know.”
I nodded eagerly and since the only pair of shoes Growl had brought in my backpack, were my running shoes, I was equipped perfectly. The moment we stepped out, I realized how trapped I’d felt inside that house. Growl didn’t bother putting his dogs on a leash. They began sniffing the local shrubs as Growl and I walked side by side. It felt strange. I’d been with him for almost twenty-four hours and so far he’d been far more decent to me than I’d have expected. But I had a feeling that had more to do with the fact that I confused him than with mercy or pity. “So?” I began, when it became obvious that Growl enjoyed the quiet of the walk.
“Falcone seems to be content with the punishment he’s inflicted on your family so far. With your father dead, and you with me, he sees no necessity to punish your mother and sister at the moment.”
“So my mother and sister are all right?” I asked in relief, pushing aside the memory’s of my father’s death.
“For now,” Growl said matter-of-factly.
“Where are they?”
“Your mother is in your old house. I’m not sure where your sister is.”
“What do you mean, you’re not sure? What happened to her? How can you be sure Falcone didn’t hurt her if you don’t know any details? What if he gave her to someone as a gift?”
Like he did with me, I added in my mind. I wanted to be there to protect her. It was my job to do so.
“Falcone hasn’t been very forthcoming with information today. After your father’s betrayal he’s even more cautious. But he has some kind of plan and it seems to require that your sister and mother are well.”
“But—”
“No,” Growl said firmly. “That’s enough. I told you what I know.” His brows drew together and he shook his head, more to himself than to me. I still marveled at how tall he was, towering a head over me. My eyes traced his muscled arms, inked from wrist up to the edge of his t-shirt and beyond. Especially the skull and the snake barring its teeth gave me the creeps. I wondered how much more of his body was covered like that.
“We should keep going or we’ll miss the pizza,” Growl said.
My eyes shot up to his face. How long had I been staring at him again? His jaw was tight, his eyes filled with a fire that made me nervous.
I quickly walked ahead and he fell into step beside me shortly after. We didn’t talk again.
Growl
I staggered into the yard toward my fitness area. I needed to let off some steam and my workout was due anyway.
Something was fucking wrong with me. I had Cara in my house. I was allowed to do with her whatever I wanted, and what had I done so far? Nothing. Something about her made me incapable of just grabbing her and having my fucking way with her.
I’d never forced a woman to sleep with me. Perhaps that was it. I liked it when they fought me, when they bit and scratched and sometimes even screamed, but not because they didn’t want it but because they did. I had no trouble hurting people, hurting women, but that was different. That was my job. And I enjoyed it. There was no denying it. But sex was something else. I didn’t want to force a woman. I wanted the woman to want me.
Of course, many of the whores I’d had in the past probably hadn’t really wanted me either, but they’d done it by choice because they wanted the money. I could live with that. And Lola, she definitely liked me more than her other johns.
I sighed, and put more weight on the barbell. With a grunt, I pressed it up.
The worst was the way I’d caught Cara looking at me today. She liked the sight of my muscles. I was fairly sure she was attracted to me on some base level. She hated me, too, and that was stronger than any desire she might feel for me.
Fuck, I wanted her. The door creaked and Cara stepped out onto the porch. When she noticed me doing my workout, her eyes widened a tad, then they traveled the length of me before she caught herself and looked somewhere else.
I groaned inwardly.
I wasn’t one for games. Or for analyzing the subtleties of a woman’s behavior. This was giving me a fucking headache.
Her gaze settled on the porch table. “Did you bolt it to the ground so I couldn’t use it to get over the fence?”
How did she come up with that kind of logic? “No,” I said, putting the barbell into the holder. “I didn’t know you’d live with me. Did you want to use it to get over the fence?” I’d suspected she might try to escape. I’d also known that she wouldn’t succeed.
“Why are there no tables or chairs in your kitchen?” she asked. “And why are there no books?”
Why, why, why. Why did she always have to ask questions?
I got up from the bench and stretched my arms. Again. That look. Fuck it. I crossed the distance between us and pressed her against the wall. Her squeak of surprise was silenced by my mouth. I plunged my tongue into her mouth, relishing in the fucking sweet taste of her. She shivered against me. That wasn’t only fear. Fuck. She was attracted to me. I knew it. I kissed her harder, fucking tasting every corner of that pure mouth. Her nipples rubbed against my chest through our clothing. I wanted to pinch and suck them. I wanted to eat her pussy, have her juices on my face. I wanted all of her. Her kiss was unpracticed, hesitant, but mine wasn’t. I didn’t give her time to consider, to doubt. I slid my hand below her skirt and pressed my palm against her crotch. Even through her panties and her tights I could feel the heat radiating off her pussy.
She tensed but didn’t push me away. I pressed a finger between her folds, rubbing her clit through the fabric, and she moaned into my mouth, then stiffened again. Her wetness was starting to soak her tights, and my cock sprang to life. Fuck. I wanted to take her right here on the porch until she screamed my name.
Her palms started pushing against my chest and she tore her mouth away from my lips. “Stop it!” she gasped, then firmer. “Stop it!” She shoved me hard, and I yielded, taking a step back and dropping my hand from her pussy. Her eyes were dazed. She glanced at my cock straining against my pants, then at the neighboring houses, and flushed an even darker shade of red. She whirled around and stumbled into the house.
I let her, even though it was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. I stared down at my bulge then I lifted my finger to my mouth and licked her taste off. Fucking sweet and salty. Cara’s body responded, only her fucking mind was still messing things up. I knew now that she’d been wet for me, there was no way I would be able to keep my hands to myself. I wanted to taste her, wanted to make her body overrule her mind. I would give her a good lick, make her come hard, until she was soaking, and then I’d have her.
Cara
I didn’t stop running until I’d closed the door to my room behind me. What had I done? What had I let Growl do? God. My heart was pulsating wildly in my chest. I could feel the thud, thud even between my legs. I covered my eyes with my hand and took a deep shuddering breath. I’d never felt this unhinged before. But being driven by instincts, my mind had been blissfully silent.
I’d wanted to feel his fingers so desperately, even through the fabric the touch had ignited me. Why did my body do that to me? I hated Growl and yet my body responded to him. He wasn’t poster boy pretty. He was edgy and dark and scarred.
And my body wanted him because of it.
I shuddered, dropped my hand and staggered to my bed where I let myself fall. Being near Growl felt like falling, too.
Part of me wanted to return to the yard and let Growl finish what he’d started. I could regret my actions later, could perhaps even convince myself to blame Growl for everything. Perhaps this was some kind of Stockholm syndrome?
Did that work for sexual attraction as well? I gasped out a laugh. I was losing my mind.
The throbbing between my legs still hadn’t stopped. If possible, it had gotten even worse. I put my hand on my lower belly, then stopped. This wasn’t right. Even just fantasizing about someone like Growl was wrong, and touching myself while doing it? Surely sin.
My mother would never forgive me.
I curled my hand into a fist on my stomach. I’d be strong. I wouldn’t let my body dictate my actions. I was better than that.
* * *
The next two mornings I didn’t want to face Growl and waited until I heard him leave the house before I walked out of my room. I couldn’t hide forever but my embarrassment was still too fresh. At least, he didn’t seek out my company.
As usual I first checked every door and window to find them locked. The dogs lay in their beds, wagging their tails halfheartedly as I passed them. I considered patting them, but I didn’t dare without Growl close by. Which was kind of amusing, considering that not too long ago I’d considered him the most dangerous thing in my life. And he probably still was. I headed to my usual spot on the sofa and startled at the sight of six books neatly stacked on top of the living room table. I didn’t know any of the authors but it was a mix of romances and thrillers. I lowered myself to the sofa, stunned by Growl’s consideration. I was more confused than ever. Why was he treating me with respect? I picked up the book at the top and began reading, trying to immerse myself in another world and silence my thoughts.
* * *
When he returned in the evening, he brought pizza again and put it down on the living room table next to my new books. My face burnt with shame when his gaze finally settled on me. He looked completely unaffected by my obvious embarrassment over our last encounter. “Thanks for the books,” I said.
He nodded and settled on the sofa before he opened the pizza carton and grabbed a piece. The spicy scent wafted over to me and reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since the morning. Growl had stocked the kitchen with a few more essentials since I’d moved in.
“Have you found out more about my sister?” I asked.
A few times I caught myself staring at his long fingers, remembering how it had felt to have them on my body.
I needed to stop this madness. Focus on something else, I told myself, and finally I settled for his scar. My eyes traced the angry red line around his throat. It was jagged as if they had used a saw-toothed knife. How could someone survive something like that? It seemed impossible. I couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to have the blood drain out of you. I shivered. There were so many rumors about how it had happened, and even more about how he’d survived.
I suspected that many of them were the foundation for Growl’s notorious reputation. Why was he alive? A wound like that, a cut throat, always meant death. Why had someone like him, someone who didn’t deserve to live, survived, while others died from less? It seemed unfair and cruel. Maybe it was stupid of me to expect life to be fair, to give everyone what they deserved.
I tore my gaze away, afraid he’d notice it and get angry. But he was probably used to the staring by now. Wherever he went people watched in awe and fear. I doubted he enjoyed the attention—so different from his boss. I’d seen the pride and delight on Falcone’s face whenever people shied away from his most feared assassin.
“Eat,” Growl rasped.
I jumped and again my eyes found his throat. This was my chance to get answers, to find out if there was a sliver of truth to the rumors my friends and I had whispered to each other in hushed voices. My chance to figure out the man in front of me, and how to influence him. Yet I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out more about him. People fear what they don’t know, that was a quote I knew to be true but I had a feeling that not knowing was a blessing when it came to the man in front of me. With every layer that I peeled off more horrors would be exposed.
“Ask or stop looking,” he said. He didn’t sound angry.
I glared. I wanted to ask and at the same time didn’t. Not when he had almost ordered me to, but then my curiosity won. “What happened to you?”
Growl pushed another piece of pizza into his mouth and chewed slowly. He swallowed then looked at me. His amber eyes held no emotions, but his strong jaw set tight. “Someone wanted me dead, cut my throat,” he replied in a monotone rasp. “But I survived.”
I stared. That wasn’t an answer, at least not one that allowed me to find out more about Growl. It was generic and emotionless, but it showed me something. That I’d found a topic Growl was uncomfortable with.
He nodded toward my untouched pizza. “Either you eat or I’ll feed it to the dogs.”
I was too hungry to give the pizza to the dogs out of spite and so I started eating.
Afterward, Growl went outside again to work out, and I decided to hide in my room. I didn’t want to risk something like last time, but I couldn’t restrain myself very long and peeked out of the window into the yard. Growl was covered in sweat as he pushed two massive dumb-bells over his head, face scrunched up with strain. His upper arms bulged, his chest tensed.
I let out a breath and quickly slipped into bed.