“Of course there isn’t.” I wink, enjoying winding him up too much to stop. “So, would you let me? I am going to be mentored by the best, after all.”
“Yeah, I might. I mean, you’re not a terrible artist.”
“How do you know?”
“I… uh… might have looked through your notebook the other day.”
“You might?”
“Okay, so I did.”
“I see.”
“That last sketch you did. It was… graphic.” His darkening eyes look up to mine from where he was focusing on cleaning me up.
“Like that one, did you?”
“Hmmm,” he mumbles before going back to patching me up, his warm fingers brushing against my skin and causing goosebumps to erupt.
“You know, I can always use some more inspiration.” Moving the leg he’s not resting on, I bend it at the knee, giving him a taste of what I’m hiding.
He clears his throat, his lips parting and about to say something when the buzzer goes off.
“Ah, saved by the bell,” I joke.
“Perfect timing, I’m all done here. We’ll check it again in the morning and see if it does need stitches.”
As quick as he can, he climbs from the bed and goes to get our dinner.
I’ve pulled his shirt down and am sitting myself up against his headboard when he reappears with a bag, a bottle of Jack, knives and forks.
“Picnic on the bed?”
“Sounds perfect.”
The second the scent of the Chinese hits me, my stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten for hours. I cast my mind back to my day before things got dramatic, and I can’t actually remember the last thing I ate.
By the time my stomach is full and I’ve had one too many shots of Jack, it’s all I can do to keep my eyes open.
“What time is it?” I ask, scooting down into Spike’s bed and sucking in a deep breath that smells purely of him.
“Almost midnight.”
“Hmmm.”
“Just relax, Tiny. You’re safe now.”
The bed dips as he climbs off to discard what’s left of our dinner in the kitchen and then use the toilet.
I have no idea if I drift off, but it seems like only seconds later he’s crawling into bed behind me and pulling my body back into his. I sigh with contentment and almost instantly fall asleep. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt in months. Tonight might have been all kinds of fucked-up, but it’s over. The weight of Mum’s debt, of Jet catching up with me again, it’s all gone.
I have no idea how, but the next thing I know, I’m waking after a peaceful night’s sleep. Moving into this flat has changed my life in more ways than one—feeling safe enough not to have to keep one eye open at night is an even bigger relief than I thought possible.
Stretching out my legs, my entire body aches, and memories from why hit me like a fucking truck.
Jet forcing me against the desk, ripping my clothes from me, his knife, and then the dead weight of his body as he crashed back against me, pinning me to the floor.
I shudder as I think about the fact I had a dead, bleeding body crushing me.
Then my mind wanders to the slightly more positive parts of the night. The feeling of being in Spike’s arms as he carried me away, the way he looked after me, how gentle and kind he was.
A light snore comes from beside me, and when I look up, I find him sleeping peacefully. His dark eyelashes are resting down on his cheeks, his full lips slightly parted. My eyes travel down onto his chest and abs that are exposed.
Unable to stop myself, I prop myself up on my elbow and reach out. My fingertip traces over the lines of the dragon tattoo that wraps around his hip and disappears under the sheets. It’s bright, colourful, and so unbelievably intricate.
He doesn’t react to my touch, so I continue my secret exploration, pushing the sheets lower so I can see more.
I’m totally lost to the lines of the artwork, and possibly the fact that I’m about an inch away from exposing a part of him that’s equally as exciting, when he speaks, scaring the crap out of me.
“Careful, Tiny. You might get more than you bargained for in a minute.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I totally bargained for it. Studying your tat was just an excuse.”
He chuckles, and I glance up at him. He looks incredibly sexy with his sleep-mussed hair and soft, just awake eyes.
With my eyes holding his, I continue moving the sheet.
“Kas,” he warns.
“You really should have worn something if you didn’t want me looking.”
“It’s uncomfortable.”
“Sure it is.”
Just before I expose him, his fingers wrap around my wrist.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, concern filling his eyes as they bounce between mine.
“Hot,” I say, biting down on my bottom lip.
He stares at it, his tongue sneaking out to lick across his own. His chest heaves, and it’s impossible to miss the tenting of the sheet beside me.
Sitting up, I take matters into my own hands and wrap my fingers around the hem of his shirt and pull it up over my head, knowing that I’m bare beneath. I throw my leg over his waist and pin him in place.
His eyes lock on my breasts as I slowly grind down on him.
“Get out of your head, Spike. I need you.”
Taking one of his arms lying limply at his side, I lift it, guiding his hand toward my chest, but just before he makes contact his phone starts ringing beside him.
Faster than I thought possible, I’m thrown off of him and he’s standing from the bed.
“It’s your brother,” he states, keeping his back to me as he swipes the screen and puts it to his ear.
I watch the muscles of his back ripple and his round arse as he walks from the room. “She’s okay, Zach. Yeah, she slept all night and seems fine this morning.” He continues talking, but
