Not Broken: The Happily Ever After(72)

He stopped almost instantly, and shifted so his full body weight wasn’t holding me down, but the contact remained. One leg was thrown over the lower half of my body, and one arm laid across my stomach. I stared up at the ceiling, attempting to catch my breath. He propped himself up with his other hand. The weight on my stomach lifted, and his fingers brushed my overgrown bangs out of my face. His warm hand travelled down to my jaw, turning my head to face him.

“That wasn’t very nice of you.”

He looked happy and playful when he answered. “Not my fault you’re extra ticklish.”

“I’ll get you back for that.”

“Bring it on, baby.”

I shoved him, and he started laughing as he fell to his back. “I should make you sleep on the couch.”

We repositioned ourselves so we were facing each other.

He frowned. “You wouldn’t be that cruel would you?”

“Probably not. The last good night’s sleep I’ve had I got here.”

A cocky smile spread across his face. He put his hand on my waist and pulled me closer to his body. “Is that so?”

“Yeah...but it could just be the bed, so maybe you can sleep on the couch, and I won’t have to share.”

“Ouch! You know how to wound a man.”

I laughed. “That’s what you get.”

“Fair enough. But…” His fingers slipped under my shirt, softly gliding across the skin on my waist. “You still haven’t told me what was on your mind.”

Instinctively, I grabbed his hand before he could tickle me again. “Don’t you dare or you will be on the couch!”

Malcolm smiled, then leaned forward to kiss the tip of my nose. “Guess I’ll play nice then.”

“Thank you. And fair is fair...but you have to tell me what you were thinking about when I first came up here.”

I bit my lip, mentally kicking myself for bringing it up again. I’d just had a whole conversation with myself about letting it go. When the smile on his face faltered, I really regretted saying anything.

Malcolm repositioned us both, pulling me to his chest as he wrapped his arm around me. He then reached up to turn off the lamp, bathing the room in darkness. Crap! Was this his way of signaling it was the end of the conversation? Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?

His fingers stroked my arm, and I swallowed the apology that was on the tip of my tongue.

“I’m waiting,” he said through a muffled yawn.

“Oh. I have to go first?”

“Yep.”

I was glad it was dark now, so he couldn’t see me blush again. “Um...well…” I took a breath. “I wondered if you wore anything under your shorts,” I blurted out.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even laugh. I felt him searching around until he found my arm. Moments later, I got my answer when my hand was placed inside his pants right on his penis. It came to life almost instantly at the contact.

My first thought was to pull away, but instead my fingers closed around his thickness. “You could have just said no.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have your hand on my dick.”

I didn’t need to see his face to know he was most likely smiling at his comment. My hand slid up, and I let my thumb graze across the tip. His breath stilled. That emboldened me. I gave a slight squeeze as I let my hand slide down his length again.

“Ginger…”

“Hmm?”

Malcolm pulled my hand from his pants, and had me on my back, devouring my lips before I even processed what happened.

He held my arms together at the wrist with one hand. He settled between my legs, and pressed his erection against me. I took a shocked gulp of air when he moved to kiss my neck. He nibbled and sucked the flesh there. His hips rocked forward. My eyes squeezed shut. His hand went under my shirt, and palmed my breast. His fingers pinched my nipple. His weight pressed me into the mattress. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. My mind went blank.





Chapter 39


Calida





I awoke to an empty bed. The clock beside the bed read eight a.m. Easing out of bed, I went in search of Malcolm. I turned the knob. It was locked. Why was I locked in his bedroom? My eyes closed when the memories came back. Us in bed. Me groping him. Then he got excited and started making out with me. I’d freaked out. I’d had a panic attack.

“No. No. No.” My fingers fumbled with the lock as I tried to open it.

I ran down the stairs. An eerily quiet house greeted me. Malcolm was nowhere to be seen. Did he leave the house last night? He’d locked me in the room. He had to. I didn’t remember doing that. I didn’t. Did I? My stomach lurched at the thought. Why couldn’t I remember everything?

I was near panicked by the time I finally spotted him sitting outside on the deck. He turned when he heard the door open. That look. I remembered that look. It was the same one he had the morning after I’d burned Seth’s stuff. Neither of us spoke. He looked tired, like he’d not slept all night.

I walked out on the deck. He got up from the lounger. I stepped toward him. He stepped back.

He stepped back.

I pressed my lips together. My chest tightened, and I fought to ignore the giant boulder in my stomach. I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it.