July (Calendar Girl #7)(10)
“You surprise me.” I laid my hand on his bicep and squeezed. When he placed his hand over my knee I froze. Fear and ugliness creeped from the center of his touch up my leg, over my body where a tightness stuck in my chest. Without realizing it at first, I held my breath. His green eyes searched mine, and he closed his eyes, blinking slowly before letting my knee go. It was as if I could breathe again. I turned my head, braced my hands on my knees, and breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth, trying to be stealthy about it. Didn’t work. He noticed but had the decency not to comment.
When I got myself back in order, he finally answered my question. He waggled his eyebrows and licked those plump, kissable lips. “I surprise most people.” And there was the sarcastic side.
“So, gardening is your hobby?”
He nodded. “Si. I love to see beautiful things grow. And I love to eat what I’ve grown.” There was pride in his tone. This hobby seemed beloved to the Latin Lov-ah and somehow it made him more real, a bit more earthy.
The word eat jangled around in my mind. Reminded me of the way he’d eaten dinner the other night and how he reacted when I told him I hadn’t eaten. “Are you a food lover?” I asked toying with a leaf of a bush I couldn’t name. Everything was so exotic and new to my untrained eye.
Anton got up and moseyed over to another bush. “Food is a necessity. No one should be without it.”
“Sounds like man who’s lived without it and knows what it’s like.”
His jaw tightened and his lips thinned. Bingo!
“Are you going to tell me why you freeze when I touch you, even in a friendly manner. Though I’d like to touch you in other ways. If you were willing.” His eyes blazed with intensity, proving that he did, in fact, fancy me the same way I fancied him, only it wasn’t meant to be.
Walking through the lines of flowers and bushes, I ignored his question and his comment about being attracted to me. “What’s this?” I pointed to a bush that had bright yellow, fuzzy balls with fern-like, deep green leaves connected to it.
“Sweet Acacia. It flowers all year long but don’t touch…” he said just as I grasped the yellow bud and was pricked by its thorns.
“Ouch!” I pulled my finger back and flailed it into the air. He grabbed it and plopped the digit into his mouth. Three things happened all at once.
One, a fire lit in my belly bringing with it all kinds of lustful desire and need so strong moisture set up shop right between my thighs.
Two, that scary, gnawing, anxious feeling wrapped it’s way around my entire body effectively putting me into an immobile lockdown.
Three, my vision went black. When I opened my eyes I was back there. Against that f*cking wall.
Chapter 4
“You think you’re special don’t you?” Aaron’s words are a piercing bite loaded with poisonous venom.
I shake my head and try to sound calm. “Not at all, actually.” It’s the truth, but based on his response, he doesn’t agree.
He scowls, turns on a heel and prowls forward until I lift my hands in front of me in defense. Aaron doesn’t stop. Continuing forward, I find myself pressed up against the concrete wall of a darkened area. In a few more steps his chest is against mine, all before I realize what is happening. Inhaling shallowly, I consider the best way to handle this, only the champagne is fogging my reflexes, making my limbs feel heavy and lethargic. “Aaron, you don’t want to do this.”
His face is closer now, and he slides his nose along my temple. Shivers of dread slither down my spine, prickling the hairs at the back of my neck. “Of course I do.” His voice sounds dead, devoid of any real emotion. I push against his chest to see if there is any give. No dice. Fear, ripe and hot, tickles my senses, the fight-or-flight response building within. “Trying to escape, little whore,” he says in a drunken slur.
“I’m not a whore, Aaron. You know that.” I push and jolt my body forward wanting, needing to get away. That’s when things get worse.
Aaron lunges down and bites the space where my shoulder and neck meet. Hard. So hard I cry out, pain throbbing from the wound. He doesn’t seem to care and uses his superior strength against me. “I know my father hired you to be his whore in front of his f*cked-up rich friends. I know that you work for an escort service and get paid by the month. Time to get Daddy’s money’s worth.”
“Dios mio, Mia. Please! I’m here. It’s Anton. Anton! I’m not going to hurt you!” Anton was holding me tight, arms locked around my body preventing any movement.
That clawing feeling was so strong I used every ounce of strength, turned in his arms and screamed. He released me as if I were a grenade that just landed in his hands. I ran to the trash can near the edge of the space and threw up. Violent, heaving spams wracked my frame. There wasn’t much there since I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. Thank God. Mostly just coffee and bile. Anton stood close but not so close that the fear hit me again. His arms were crossed over his chest, his hat off and hanging on a string behind his back. His eyes were dark, and filled with sorrow, maybe even pity.
“Don’t look at me like that!” I growled and wiped my mouth on the back of my arm. I needed another shower. Sweat beaded on my brow, and my stomach clenched once more. Woozily I made my way to another bench nearby and sat. Anton followed but didn’t sit down.