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This is a bad idea.
I ignore that stray thought and open my bedside drawer to check…
Ah, fuck.
Out of condoms.
I don’t know why it matters when I know I’m not supposed to fuck her anyway, but I’m a little annoyed at myself for not replenishing the supply.
The door cracks open and I push the drawer back in before I look over at her.
Brynn’s face is bare, her hair dripping wet, and her soft skin glints with moisture. Obviously, procuring clothing was her top priority when she stepped out of the shower.
“Hi,” she says, with a smile that feels like an apology for inconveniencing me. “Did you remember to grab that shirt for me to sleep in?”
“I did.”
“Great. Um, I didn’t see it on the counter.”
I told her I’d crack open the door and reach an arm in to put it on the counter so she didn’t worry about me creeping on her while she was naked.
But I didn’t do that. Instead, I stayed out here thinking about her naked and not getting her any clothes.
“I remembered to grab it. Didn’t grab it, though. I was texting my friend about checking in on your roomie and keeping an eye on your building entrance for a bit once he’s sure she’s okay.”
Her focus shifts, and relief transforms her pretty face. “Oh, thank you. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Why don’t you dry off and come back, and we’ll see if I’ve made any progress on this clothing mission by then?”
She rolls her eyes, but I can tell she’s not really that annoyed. “Why don’t I just grab something myself,” she says, straightening and opening the door. She leaves it open, and I feel the humidity from her shower start to drift into the room.
I watch her pad across my bedroom floor in nothing but a fluffy towel, and I can’t help thinking about how easy it would be to snatch that towel and satisfy my curiosity about what she looks like underneath. How easy it would be to taste her, whether she was in agreement or not.
I ease off the bed, but the sound the mattress makes when the springs release gives me away. Brynn glances back at me, her eyes widening at my unexpected movement. Without having to say a word, her body tells me she’s wary. Like back at the woods right before she ran from me, I note her gaze as it searches me for signs of danger.
She must find them, because I see a flash of the look I saw right before she fled into the forest.
I’m too close, though, and there’s nowhere for her to seek refuge in my apartment.
She retreats on instinct and ends up inside the closet. I advance on her and plant a hand on the door, just in case she was thinking about closing herself inside to keep a barrier between us.
Keeping my gaze locked on hers, I lean in the doorway and nod casually to the left. “T-shirts are over there.”
She swallows and eyes me uncertainly, but since I’m telling her where to find clothes instead of ripping the only fabric covering her away, I guess she decides to risk turning her back to me.
I watch as she nods gently, then walks more quickly than she needs to over to the rack of T-shirts hanging up. “Are there any you don’t want me to wear?”
Her voice is uneasy, but she’s trying to mask it. She’s not a great actress.
That’s all right. I don’t need her to perform for me.
I push off the doorjamb and join her in the closet. I can tell by the set of her shoulders she’s tense, but she keeps her back to me as if by the sheer force of pretending she doesn’t suspect me of being untrustworthy, she can make it true.
It’s as good a strategy as any, I suppose. She knows she doesn’t stand a chance fighting me.
I know I shouldn’t even consider giving her a reason to fight me, but I can’t seem to find it in me to care. She’s been triggering something dark and ugly hidden away deep inside me since I first fucking met her, something that makes me want to chase her around.
And right now, she’s alone with me in my apartment and nobody who isn’t loyal to me knows where she is. She’s wearing a fucking bath towel and dependent on me to keep her safe and provide for her.
