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“Don’t be weak, Kitty-Cat.” He licked my taste from his fingers, smacking his thin lips together loudly. “I could hear how well you take it. How you like flesh slapping against flesh.” The man—no, the monster—was in front of me a second later. “Remington Cole has much bigger hands than I do, and you don’t seem to mind anything they do to you, do you?” His smelly fingers dug into my cheeks and pulled me back into a sitting position on my now-sore ass. Like the snake he was, his tongue slithered out, poking between his lips and through mine.
I didn’t want his kiss.
I didn’t want the waft of chocolate and the taste of my own ass entering my mouth.
Desperation kicked in, and I struggled, trying to move my face from left to right, but it was no use because the creep had his dirty nails digging into my skin, puncturing the flesh that burned every time my head turned.
“Cat?”
A voice pulled me out of the traumatic flashback. It was Remi’s.
I’d heard the names of two men in that broken memory, but only one stayed with me in the real world.
“Remington Cole?”
Remi froze his hand on my knee, where his fingers loosened and his palm sweated against my bare skin. He could feel the bristles, and I hated that.
“Is that you?”
His face softened. The ticking in his jaw eased off, and his narrowed eyes widened, roving over each of my features.
“No one usually calls me by my full name these days.” His fingers moved, stroking from my knee to the hem of the hoodie. “Did you remember something?”
“A man who drank hot chocolate.”
Hot chocolate. There was some right there on the shiny marble surface at my side. I shoved it away.
“I don’t want any.”
“It can’t hurt you.” The hot chocolate was taken back to its spot in the cupboard and closed in by Remi. The creep was right about his hands. Long fingers hooked around the handle of a cup he pulled from an expensive-looking coffee maker—one I’d seen no one else use—and took it to his lips.
He returned to me. “You sure you don’t want any coffee?”
In silence, I told him no.
“Still ready to go back to bed?”
“Can’t I just stay out here with you?”
“Moment of truth…I had no intention of staying out here myself. I sat down, and then I don’t know what happened. Maybe exhaustion caught up with me.”
“I don’t want to be—”
“Away from me?” Long lashes batted his cheek again as he winked at me.
“Not really. But I am tired.”
“Well, maybe no coffee for you if you’re already missing bed. Perhaps some warm milk if the chocolate brings bad memories.”
“I’m not one of your cats.”
“You are my Cat, but I don’t expect you to use a saucer if that’s what’s concerning you.” His smile was devilish and yet beautiful. “But, who knows, maybe I will get you to purr again…in time.” His smile became a laugh.
And despite everything, I laughed, too.
His fingers brushed my hair back, and he took a better look at me and the fading bruises on my skin that argued I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was. His hand stayed on me, and I wrapped my fingers around the tender touch.
“You still spooked?” he asked.
