Drawn (26 page)

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Authors: Lilliana Anderson

BOOK: Drawn
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“Is this because I went to the coffee shop?” I ask quietly, although not understanding why it upset him so much.

“I left you at the library. You need to stay where I leave you,” he whispers, the worry evident in his face as he looks at me beseechingly. He wraps his arms around me again and pulls me against him again. “You can’t wander off. Something could happen.”

I pull back a little,
wanting to look him in the eye. What he said was so quiet, I’m not even sure if I heard right, but he pulls me back toward him, just holding me against his chest. As we stand in the middle of the library, wrapped in each other’s arms, I start to realise that my brother’s death may have had a greater impact on Damien’s life than I had initially thought. While I knew that he felt responsible for not watching out for his friend, it’s only now that I’m linking his need to know where I am with that event all those years ago. Unless of course there’s something else… something he’s not telling me. But what?

“I need you,” he murmurs in my ear, his warm breath washing over my neck, sending delightful shivers down my spine
that chase my questions away.

“I need you too,” I
admit, capitulating to him yet again. It’s possible that I always will – the need feels that imperative to me, that I may very well forgive him anything.

Hand in hand, we leave the library, ignoring the inquisitive stares of others after our public display. We walk to his car, driving back to his apartment block as fast as we can
safely go. The air between us palpable, as I wonder if this feeling – this need, inside me is ever going to go away. It seems that the moment he is near, I need to touch him and to have him touch me.

This feeling is far m
ore than attraction, and it’s bigger than lust. I can’t call it anything else but need. I need him, just like I need air to breathe and water to survive.

The moment we get inside his apartment, he kicks the door shut and drops my bag on the floor.
Reaching down and lifting my singlet over my head, he throws it over his shoulder before pushing my skirt and underwear down as well, leaving me in front of him, completely naked.

“Take your hair out,” he instructs, standing back as he studies me. It’s amazing how a man looking upon your body with an intense hunger can make you feel like the most gorgeous woman in the world.

Reaching up, I pull the pins and elastic that were securing my bun in place, and let my long hair fall about my shoulders. Suddenly, I’m a sex goddess. I’m starting to understand how beautiful I am to him – he makes me feel amazing.

He circles my body, running his fingertips over my skin. Every sense is on high alert as I listen to our steady breathing, waiting for what comes next.

When it finally does, it’s a flurry of movement that ends with us both in sweaty heaps, craving more. Always craving more…

***

“Open,” Damien says, in that soft coaxing voice of his as he holds a fork full of steak and mashed potato up to my lips.

Locking my eyes with his, I wrap my mouth around the morsel and slide it off the tines.

“Would you like some of mine?” I ask, when I finish the mouthful, cutting into my meat.

“No, it’s all yours. I just like doing things for you.”

“I like it too,” I smile. I love the caring he shows toward me. He’s such a large, strong man. He’s the kind of man many would find intimidating. So seeing him gentle and caring is wonderful.

We exchange knowing smiles as we continue our meals,
Damien occasionally offering me another mouthful from his plate.

“Oh, what are you doing Friday night? Kensi and Jessica want to go clubbing and invited us along.”

Suddenly, his features harden and his jaw sets. He narrows his eyes, setting down his cutlery as he reaches for a napkin and wipes his mouth.

“No,” he says, as if he has the authority to do so.

“No? What do you mean no?” I ask, dropping my own knife and fork, suddenly not hungry anymore.

“I mean – I have a fight on, so after last time – you need to stay home. I’ll put someone on guard duty if I have to.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I can, and I will. You’re not going.”

“Fuck you Damien. We’ve been seeing each other for what? A month at most? And you think you can stop me from going out with my friends. No. Sorry. I’m going.”

“Henrietta. You’re being unreasonable,” he growls, raising his voice a little. “I need to work, and to do that. I need you to
be safe, in your own house.”


My
own
house? I have been here, with you the whole time! You are my home Damien!” I yell, upset at him for restricting me as well as casting me aside. “I’m coming with you. Wherever you’re going. I’m going too. You don’t get to do this shit without me.” I fold my arms across my chest and stick my chin out stubbornly.

“No. I don’t want you involved!” he yells, slapping his hand on the table, causing the plates and glasses to jump and clang.

“You’re being unreasonable, and you can’t stop me. I’m sorry, but I’m going. I didn’t move out of my parent’s house, just so you could tell me what to do,” I screech, my emotions running high as I stand my ground.

“You’re not fucking going,” he roars, throwing the plates in the sink with an almighty crash that sends pieces of food bouncing up out of it.

The volume of his roars and the crash of the plates, shocks me frozen. I don’t know what else to say. Frankly, I’m scared shitless right now.

“Oh my god,” I whisper
, a cold hard realisation hitting me hard in the chest as I force myself to articulate my feelings. “I…I can’t do this with you. I can’t keep feeling like this. You’re trying to put me in a cage. I’m not… I need to go.” Pushing away from the table, I head for the bedroom, grabbing my suitcase and throwing it on the bed.

Suddenly, I’m seeing that with him, my world will be even more restricted than it ever was when I was at home. As much as my body wants him near me, I’m smart enough to see that this isn’t going to work. Aaron’s right – I need to get out.

“What are you doing?” he asks from the doorway, his voice flat and emotionless.

“I’m going back to my place. I’m not fighting with you over my right to make my own choices.”

“Put your bag back in the closet,” he commands. It only serves to make me more furious, so I pack faster.

“I said, put it back,” he growls, grabbi
ng the case from the bed and upending it, dumping my things on the bedspread. “You’re not leaving.”

“Give it back,” I demand in return. “Fucking, give it back.”

“No.”

“Fuck you. You don’t own me!” I screech, my hands balled into fists at my side. 

“You. Are. My woman! And you’ll fucking do as I say!” he roars, throwing my suitcase against the wardrobe door, causing me to jump as my blood turns cold, afraid of what he’s going to do to me. I know from training with him that I have a zero percent chance of winning any sort of fight against him.

We lock eyes for a moment, the air charged between us as we stand on either side of the bed. Sl
iding my gaze toward the bedroom door, I estimate that it’s only a step away from me and decide I need to make a break for it.

I bolt, pulling
the door shut behind me to slow his advance. It gives me enough of a head start as I dash through the living room, grabbing my bag and his keys as I make for the front door.

“Henrietta,” he roars behind me.

Thinking fast, I pull a chair out and throw it in his path, grabbing the handle on the front door and finding my freedom in the hallway. My only thought is to get to his car and drive away. 

Running at top speed, I take the stairs, two, sometimes three at
a time, my heart beating rapidly as my blood whooshes through my ears and I pray that I don’t trip and fall.

Fuck
, how did I manage to get myself in this situation?

My heart thuds
, wildly in my chest, as I hear him coming behind me, calling after me as I dash out of the foyer door and onto the street. I’m not even wearing any shoes as I take off down the footpath as fast as my legs can carry me.

Suddenly, I see salvation step onto the curb in the form of Aaron. “Etta? What’s going on?” he starts
, as he sees me running toward him, and Damien in hot pursuit. “Holy fuck! Get in the car!” He opens the back door and jumps into the driver’s seat.

I dive in
, headfirst, yelling, “Go! GO!”

But we’re not fast enough,
Damien grabs my ankle and hauls me out of the car, kicking and screaming.

Aaron, jumps out and tries to help f
ree me, but with Damien’s skill level, he’s quickly turned away and pushed aside.

“Stay out of this Aaron. I don’t want to hurt you,”
Damien warns, his chest heaving from the chase. I struggle against the grip he has on my arm as he holds me steadily at his side.

“Let me go you fucker! I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Let her go Damien,” Aaron demands, stalking toward him.

“Back off,”
Damien warns again.

Aaron makes a move as if he’s about to attack
Damien, and knowing that this can’t possibly end well for him, I yell hysterically, “Stop! Aaron – I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m sorry. I’m fine. You don’t need to do this.”

“What!
?” he bursts out, his face disbelieving as he stands in front of me. “No Etta.”

“Just. Stay,” I cr
y, resting my hand on the warmth of his chest, taking a deep breath to steady my voice. “I overreacted. I’ll call you later. It’s ok.”

Damien
relaxes his grip on my arm and slides his arm around my shoulders, hugging me to him. The moment I inhale his scent, it reacts with my mind, and I’m right back where I was. Ready to do anything to be with him, and hating that I feel this way.

Aaron
drops his stance a little, his eyes wide as he looks between Damien and me incredulously. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me,” he promises, his eyes filled with concern.

In this moment, I feel utterly defea
ted and completely incompetent. I know this is wrong. I know this thing I have with Damien isn’t ok. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting it. It doesn’t stop me from clinging to him for dear life, right after I was just fighting to get away from him.

What the hell is wrong with me? I hate this feeling. I hate not being in control.

“She said she’s fine. Now, fuck off.”

Sliding his
arm down to my waist, Damien steers me back toward the building. Inside me, there’s a voice still screaming at me to run. But I don’t listen. There’s something about this connection we have that makes me force that little voice down as I realise that running from him would be pointless - he’s just going to chase me down and, as disappointing as it is, every time he catches me I’ll probably go back to him. I don’t know if I’ll be able to help myself.

“Etta!” Aaron calls after me, but I keep looking forward
. I don’t think I can handle seeing the disenchanted look upon his face as I walk away and begin to accept that my life is nothing without this big, domineering man beside me, who I feel
so
many things for.

When we enter the foyer,
Damien leans down and scoops me up in his arms to carry me up the stairs. His quiet strength and caring toward me after I was just so horrible to him, overwhelms me and causes me to drop my head against his chest and sob.

“It’s ok,” he murmurs into
my hair, kissing the top of my head. “I love you Etta. We can work this out.”

My heart and chest ache so much right now that I’m not even sure I can breathe. God, how can being near one person make you so fucking crazy with lust,
then fear, then anger, then need and love.
Fuck!
That’s what I hate most - I’m in love with him. I don’t want to be
. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

When we reach his apartment, he carries me into the bedroom and sits with me on the bed, cradling me on his lap like a child.

Tilting my face up to meet his, he smooths his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping my tears away as he shushes me. “I’m sorry for scaring you,” he whispers, bringing his mouth to mine, brushing his lips upward.

My body begins to quiver as I cling to him
, continuing to cry as he continues to wipe my face and apologise.

“Please don’t run away from me. I couldn’t bear a life wi
thout you in it. I love you. I love you more than my body and mind can handle. My love for you hurts Henrietta, its hurts so much that it’s a constant thud in my chest, pushing against my ribs as if it’s trying to escape. But I don’t want it to, I want it to hurt me forever. I want you forever. Do you understand that? I need you. You. Are.
Everything,
” he whispers, his voice as pained as his eyes as he attempts to express what this is, and he’s right. It does hurt. It hurts so, so much.

“Make love to me.
Please.
” It’s the only thing I can think to do. It seems to be the only way to express this emotion. The only way to ease this addiction.

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