Page 75 of Dollhouse

Emma nods, chewing her lip. Molly’s tail flicks back and forth under her chin, keeping her attention from straying too far from her job of petting her. They have that in common apparently. Needing that constant physical reassurance. Fortunately for Emma, I never tire of it.

“Noah acts like I’m made of glass,” she says and I bristle. “He seems to feel like if he even hints at wanting me I’ll run away.”

“Well, how does the thought of that make you feel?”

Her chin lifts, the words as sure sounding as any she’s spoken. “Like what happened to me turns him off. I want to know he still sees me, not what theydidto me.”

Oh, fucking hell. That’s it. Sliding the laptop toward me, I press a button on the screen so that my voice fills the office they’ve been using for their sessions. “Thanks Amy, we’ll see you next week.”

She jumps, peering around her, eyes narrowing. “I told you already that paying me directly doesn’t mean you can listen, Noah. This is ridiculous.”

“Bye now,” I say, releasing the button. I crack my neck when I see Emma trying to hide the anticipation on her face. What a pretty little stain on her cheek as she waits to see what I have to say to her.

Amy shuffles past me as I stalk toward the office door and I smile when she rolls her eyes. Casey’s wife recommended her and she’s been great with the girls we save that need someone to talk to. She’s great with Emma too, but sometimes we just have some shit we need to hash out, one on one.

The door snaps shut a little louder than I had anticipated and she looks up at me with those large warm eyes that put an arrow right through my fucking heart.

The silence grows as I stand on the far side of the desk, hands gripping the edge and staring her down. Trying to sort my thoughts enough so that I don’t badger her as is my tendency.

Like glass. He treats me like glass.

Never have I been accused of such a thing before, but with her? She’d been raped repeatedly. Brutally. For days, and we’d just barely gotten the clearance for both her pregnancy and STD tests.

So maybe I am, but it’s only because I couldn’t bear to cause even the smallest fracture in her, not when she’s already spiderwebbed with them.

“So you’ve made your feelings clear.” I grit out the words. I wouldn’t know how to approach this in a healthy way if I neededto. “Although I’m not really sure what you expect from me, Emma.”

She swallows, trying to gather that hardness I’ve seen in her more and more lately. Her eyes meet mine, straightening her spine. “I just meant that things are different. And I don’t like it. You used to want me, not just take care of me.”

Scoffing, I push off the desk. “Emma, be serious. You know my feelings aren't any different for you. I’m trying to be careful.”

Her brow furrows, leaning forward from the chair on the other side of the desk. “I don’t want you to be careful with me, that’s the point. I don’t want you treating me like I’m broken.”

But you are.I almost say it, but bite it back just in time. Pausing, I rethink my approach. “I don’t want you to push things faster than you need to just to prove something to me, Em. I’m not going anywhere.” I sidestep the desk, unable to handle any sort of distance, and she watches as I move closer, until I’m only a few inches away. Towering over her, sliding my hand along the desk so that I arch slightly over her body. The chair squeaks as she adjusts, trying to look up at me. “I don’t want it to be a mistake.”

She flinches at the word and I sigh, frustration taking over at the way everything seems to end up wrong now. Our words are mismatched, our intentions crossing.

I just want you to be okay.

I don’t want you to leave like Bo did.

I don’t want you to see those men when I’m inside you again.

Her hand reaches up and she leans forward as she caresses my jawline with that soft hand of hers. I lean into it like a cat because any contact from her is a drug.

“This? This could never be a mistake.” Her voice is soft, laden with meanings of a dozen different kinds. “You would never hurt me.”

“I could. I have,” I remind her, but she’s right. There’s no way I could take it too far with her right now. “I need you to be sure,” I say, my hand going to her throat and tilting her face back to mine. My thumb traces the underside of her jaw, feeling the swallow as she loses herself in my gaze. I know she’s a sucker for my eyes, somehow drowning in them like the whiskey color could intoxicate her. “I need you to promise me that this is what you want.”

She’s nodding before I even finish talking, eager at getting her way. “I promise.”

I stand to my full height, taking her in for a moment until she squirms in her chair. “Alright. Up,” I say, tapping the desk edge.

Her eyes widen, licking her lips as her hands squeeze the armrests.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, baby. I said get your pretty ass on this desk, and spread your legs for me.” I lean forward, curling myself over her until my face is just a breath away from hers. “Now.”

THIRTY-NINE