“Did he watch you put it on?” he growls. I shake my head. “Why did you ask for it?”
“It smelt of him,” I mumble weakly. “I like good aftershave.”
He steps into my space, filling my nose with his own aftershave. “Why can’t I stay away from you?” he whispers.
“Why won’t you let me touch you?” I whisper. His lips are only inches from mine.
“I have to go,” he says quietly, but he doesn’t move. I raise my hand slowly, but as it gets closer to his chest, he hooks his fingers into my own. “Don’t,” he mutters, and it’s almost like a plea. I lift my other hand and he hooks that too, holding them both up in the air at either side of my head. He walks me backwards until I hit the refrigerator, then looks down at the open top button of the shirt. I carefully wrap my leg around his and he presses closer.
I lick my lower lip and he follows the movement with his eyes. “How do you fuck, if you don’t like being touched?” I whisper. His breath hitches when I say the word ‘fuck’. I feel his bulge straining in his jeans and pressing into my stomach. “Do you honestly . . . ” I whisper, brushing my lips lightly over his. “Think that . . . ” I run my tongue over his lips and he hisses. “I would fuck you after I witnessed you fucking my boss?” It takes a second for my words to hit his sex-fogged brain, but the moment it does, he releases me. “Now, get the hell out of here,” I snap.
Cree
I back away from Eva, not sure whether to be mad as hell at her blatant flirting only for her to shoot me down or if I should high five her for her bravery. The anger in her eyes lights me up. Everything in me wants to fuck the mad out of her. I shake my head and snigger. As I leave, I dump Lake’s t-shirt in the garbage out front.
I get back to the club and Chains is outside smoking a cigarette. “Brother,” he greets me with a smile. “Didn’t expect to see you back here.”
“I just dropped her at home,” I mutter.
“Riggs wants a word. He’s in his office.”
I tap on the office door and enter before he answers. He’s already poured me a glass of bourbon. “You’re avoiding your wife,” I state.
“No,” he says. “We have a problem.”
I check my watch. “It’s two in the morning. It couldn’t wait? I think you’re avoiding Anna and her baby-making plans.”
“The mayor wants us to look into Callum Myles. I met with him earlier and he mentioned him. When I told him you were doing some security work for Myles, he told me some shit.” I take a seat and knock back my drink in one go. “The mayor thinks he’s into some shady shit.”
“Most people are these days.”
“We’re talking about underground stuff. Dark stuff.”
“Fuck, Riggs, spit it out. I’m tired and my bed is calling,” I snap.
“Use your imagination,” says Riggs. “Think sex, girls, unwilling girls.”
I sit up slightly, intrigued. “Eva mentioned he invited her to some kind of sex club.”
“I’m not sure this is the kinda place you’d invite someone for a quick fuck, Cree. He wouldn’t be inviting her—he’d be forcing her.”
“Well, it’s damn lucky she kicked him in the balls then.” I stand and place my glass on his desk. “We’ll go over this tomorrow. I’ve not slept well in days, and for once, I feel tired. I’m gonna take that as a good sign. I’m seeing the shrink first thing tomorrow, so I’ll meet with you after that.”
I get a good three hours sleep and then go for a run to work off the energy that I seem to have in abundance lately. I shower and then head off for my shrink appointment.
Doctor Eleanor Chapman is sitting with her legs tucked under her and her usual notepad resting in her lap. She always looks relaxed and comfortable. This time, instead of pacing, I take a seat, and she arches her brow but chooses not to comment. “I don’t like being touched,” I begin. “And I want to be touched. So how do I make that happen?”
Chapman chews on her pen, her expression thoughtful. “In what way don’t you like being touched?”
I shrug. “I dunno. I just avoid it whenever possible.”
“Give an example.”
I huff and let my head fall back before levelling her with a hard stare. It doesn’t faze her. She doesn’t care if her probing questions annoy me. “I won’t let women touch me. Like my chest and shit.”
“You don’t like intimacy? Can they touch you while kissing?”
“I don’t kiss,” I mutter. Apart from last night with Eva, but I don’t mention that. Before her, I hadn’t kissed anyone. Ever. “I have sex, but I tie women up or hold their hands so they can’t touch me.”
She makes some notes, and then, without looking up, she says, “Thinking back to when you were younger, do you remember your parents hugging you, kissing you, usual parental love? Was your mum maternal?”
Images of my mum passed out on the floor fill my head and I close my eyes briefly. “Not really. Not that I remember.”
“Mum and dad, or just mum, just dad?” she probes.
“Mum.”
“Do you still see her now that you’re an adult?”
I shake my head and she waits patiently for me to elaborate. “She’s dead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How old were you when she died?”
“Thirteen.”
“You grew up in care?”
I shake my head again and her brow furrows. “I stayed in the house. Grew up by myself.”
“How?”
“My story was all over the news when I hit sixteen.” I take a deep breath and she gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Elijah, you can talk to me. It won’t ever leave this room. I’m bound by client confidentiality, and the only time
