Page 42 of Fractured
I walk down the hall and head to the kitchen. Grab two bottles of water and go sit on the couch and wait for her. Cracking the lid on one bottle and taking a sip, I bite the corner of my lip as I look out over the shining city.
She had enjoyed the garden's twinkling lights. So I switch on the lamp next to me before getting up to turn off the overhead lights. The glow of the city shines through the windows from floor to ceiling, making the room appear intimate and soothing, almost romantic. Maybe this will help her feel more at ease with me, and she will open up.
I sit back down and start to peel the paper label off the damp bottle as I wait for her to come and join me. I don’t know how to act in the “after” part of sex. By now I’d be at my desk working in my office, in the club hauling liquor bottles, or at Silk, shaking hands and watching shows with Carlos having a drink.
I look out over the city. Will she like this? Or is it too dark, and she thinks I went to bed in the spare room and left her? Fuck!
I get up and head to the door to flick the lights back on.
“Don’t” I can barely hear her, but I stop.
Isabella is standing in the dim light wearing my t-shirt, her hair wet and back behind her shoulders. She has my boxers on and her feet are bare. She fucken takes my breath away. I walk over to her and take her hand. It’s warm for once. I lead her to the couch and I sit down. I drag her to straddle my lap once more. So I can look at her and talk to her.
I take her hips in my hands, being careful of her bruises, and gently bring her forward so I can kiss her. She lets me, holding her hair back with one hand. She is sweet and smells like soap.
“You okay, bunny? You’re not too sore?” She blushes. I reachbehind her and hand her the bottle of water. She cracks the top and takes a long drink.
“Are you hungry, bunny?”
She scrunches up her face and lifts one shoulder. I grab the plate of sweets and tilt it at her. She looks it over and reaches out to take the last lemon bar. To tease her, I grab it off the plate and fake that I am going to eat it.
Isabella stops, and she follows the bar with her eyes as I put it to my lips. She puts her hand down on her thigh and starts to pick her thumbnail. Her shoulders lower as she bites her bottom lip and says nothing. She would let me eat it without complaint.
I think she is the first woman I’ve met who never talks but says so much more with her body than words could ever say. Why did I not notice this before?
I hold it out to her, but she shakes her head no. She takes another drink of water and twists in my lap to put the bottle back on the coffee table. The t-shirt stretches across her ample breasts; her nipples are rock hard and my dick twitches. Down, boy!
She faces me and watches my hand. I just hold it, waiting to see what she will do. She says nothing, just sits in my lap picking her nail. That’s her stress tell, like my fucken tie.
I put my hand on her hands to stop her from picking and bringing the square to her mouth. She blinks and looks at it, then back at me. I nod, and she opens her mouth. I put the treat close to her lips, and she takes my wrist to control how much I can put in.
She takes a bite, then she turns my wrist and brings my hand back to my mouth, and I open and eat the other half of the square. I chew and watch her. I denied her and she submitted. Then I offered it all, but she only took what she wanted and gave back the rest.
That one simple act makes me feel humbled. I would have eaten it all and teased her. Not Isabella. She would go without rather than make anyone suffer.
How can she be a part of Robert's plans? Does she even know what her father is up to? Was she sent to throw us all off?
She smiles at me faintly and reaches out to run her finger over the crease in my forehead. She can see the stress forming wrinkles in my brow. It's sweet that she tries to smooth them away with her finger.
“Is it just me you won’t talk to, Bella? Or do you just not like to talk?”
She says nothing and tilts her head to the side as she runs her finger over my jaw, down my cheek, and across my lips. I snap out and take her finger in my teeth and hold it there. She doesn’t pull it back. I close my lips around the digit and suck. The tartness of the lemon and the sweetness of the sugar hit my tongue, and I swirl the end of her finger like she did my thumb.
She pops her finger out and smiles at me.
“So I guess it’s just me you don’t want to talk to.”
Her brow furrows, and she hunches her shoulders.
Barely above a whisper, “I have nothing of interest to talk about, really.”
Holy shit, she answered a question and said a complete sentence.
Running my hands up and down her thighs to comfort her. “I doubt that. I hear you like Harry Potter. I’ve never seen any of his movies or read any of his books. You want to tell me about them?”
Her whole body jerks and stiffens, the jade green in her eyes sparkling with excitement. She opens her mouth to talk witha huge smile on her face. I can feel how happy she is and that maybe this is the connection we need for us to make a start. Even if I don’t care about Harry Potter, I’ll try any subject if she will open up and talk to me.
As she looks into my eyes, her whole body changes as she recovers herself, concealing her enthusiasm, she drops her shoulders and looks down, her hair falling over her face in a cocoon, “You wouldn’t be interested in that.” Then she begins to pick her nail.
