Willing Captive(29)

My blood runs cold.

What did he just say?

Still processing the information he just threw at me, he says softly, “Having a life is overrated. Trust me. There’s no life to live if you’re cold and dead. Your dad has his reasons. You gotta trust someone, Lily.” He barks a humorless laugh and runs a hand through his short hair, “Guess that’s not me anymore.”

Call me stupid but what he just told me doesn’t affect me trusting him. In fact, I think my trust in Nox just got stronger a notch. I never actually expected him to reveal so much.

We stare at each other a while before I whisper, “I was in trouble and you came to get me?”

Nox looks down at the brown shaggy carpet, nodding slowly.

Scooting across the bed, closer to him. “Maybe just for one night we can pretend to like each other and call a truce.” He watches me through furrowed brows and I add a hushed, “Because I could really use a hug right now.”

Not waiting for him to answer, I lightly push him down on the motel bed. And Nox lets me. His arms part a little and I fit my body between the crook of his arm and his hard torso, rest my head on his shoulder, and let out a relaxed sigh. Placing my hand on his chest, he pulls me closer to him and runs his hand through my hair gently.

Thinking a million things at once, I feel the need to let him in on one of those thoughts. “I trust you, Nox. You won’t hurt me. I know it.” I whisper, “I trust you.”

The hand at my hair stills a moment before he sighs, “Maybe you shouldn’t, Lily.”

That falls on deaf ears. I know what I feel and, after all, I’m taking his advice.

I’m going with my gut.





***





Stretching into something firm, my eyes flutter open. I try to turn, but it seems this bed has seatbelts. Looking down, I see the seatbelt is actually a muscular arm cinched around my waist. Now that I’m a little more awake, I realize someone is breathing into my neck and wriggling closer to me. Deeper into my butt.

When I hear Nox whine in his sleep, my eyes widen. I ask my brain, “Is that what I think it is?”

My drooling brain replies, “It’s early, we have a hard-on pressed against our ass, and a delicious man in our bed. I’m out.” Then it disconnects.

My heart races and I swallow hard. The polite thing to do would be to get out of bed. Now.

But I’m so darn toasty that I just can’t find the will to do that. My brain quickly reminds me of another great excuse to not leave his strong arms. Nox hasn’t slept properly in an age. Not since I’ve known him. So, scratch that. I guess the polite course of action would be to let him sleep.

Pressed up against me like I’m his giant teddy bear.

A smile spreads across my face. I’ll never admit it to anyone, ever, but I like Nox. I don’t know what it is about him. For all I know, I have Stockholm syndrome.

My brain rolls its eyes at me muttering, “Yeah. Whatever.”

Okay. No. I don’t have Stockholm syndrome.

I know that part of it is because he’s gruff, and honest, and downright mean. I suppose you could say that I appreciate the ‘real’ in him. Lord knows my life has been sheltered so much, it’s a wonder my skin isn’t so pale it’s transparent.

My brain cheers ecstatically when his arms tighten around me a moment. Then he loosens his hold completely before standing quickly and making his way to the bathroom.

Nuts.

The shower turns on and I force myself out of bed. It’s no fun without him anyways. Standing up, I stretch, wearing only a huge ass Nox tank and my panties, which I cleaned in the bathroom sink, then rummage through the black bag. Leaning forward, my head snaps up when the bathroom door opens and Nox stands there wearing that tiny, skimpy towel again. I fight the urge to sigh dreamily and ask as steadily as I can, “Need somethin’?”

Flicking his chin towards the black bag, he looks down at the tank I’m wearing a long moment before he replies, “Boxers.”

Rolling up a black pair, I throw them at him, and as soon as he catches them, he slams the door shut.

Curious as to what he was looking at, I turn my head to the side and look down at my oversized makeshift pajamas.

Oh, for the love of- Great. Just great.

Nox saw my sideboob.

My cheeks flush. At least he didn’t see nipple. Just pasty-white side-boob.

Side-boob won’t affect anything. What do I care? I’ve seen his bare ass. His mighty fine bare ass. I wonder what it would feel like. It looks like you could bounce a quarter off it.

As my mind wanders, Nox opens the door and asks, “Want a shower before breakfast?”

Wanting to get out of this confined space as quickly as possible, I spray myself with his deodorant before throwing it to him. He sprays himself and throws it back. I respond with, “Nah. Let’s go.”

Slipping on my now clean workout pants, Nox stops me with the stink eye and an, “Uh, no.”

“Excuse me?”

Shaking his head, he looks down at my ensemble through furrowed brows. “You’re not going out like that, Lily. Put somethin’ else on.”

I’m not quite sure what the problem is here. “What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?”

Walking up to me, he pinches the bottom of the tank between his forefinger and thumb and announces, “This is not appropriate for down there.”