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The faint glow of the moon combined with the penthouse’s low lights illuminated the darkening bruises and bright red cuts on Matty’s face. We were close in height, so I had a full view of each contusion, lesion, and discoloration. I studied them like they were points on a map.
He had the air of a bruiser, a ruffian, and attired as he was in a black suit and white shirt, it added an element of danger to our coupling. He didn’t appear to be in any pain, for which I was thankful.
“Terrified, no.” His lips quirked into an easy smile. Heat radiated from his chest and I wanted to press even closer. “I was wary. I didn’t know what to expect. But that was before I got to know you.”
“And now?” I asked.
“You terrify me for other reasons.”
“Oh?”
His voice was raw when he said, “You make me want to impress you, which is…” He paused. “Highly unusual for me. That’s how I know this thing between us is real. I mean,” he said, quickly amending, “it’s real for me.” Matty’s cheeks turned scarlet. “I don’t want to put words in your mouth.”
“You’re not putting words in my mouth, Matty.” His expression instantly relaxed and a hitch formed in the back of my throat. “This is definitely real for me, too.” I think I love you, I thought. I wasn’t brave enough to say it. Instead, I said, “I really want to kiss you.” Matty’s face darkened with lust and he made a little noise in the back of his throat that sent a zinger straight to my hardening cock. “I want to do more than that actually. But,” I added, holding up a hand, “we should get you patched up first.” He glowered at me and I nearly laughed at how quickly his expression could change. “Does this penthouse castle have a first aid kit?”
“You,” he said, his mouth twitching, “are a tease.”
Matty took my hand and led me upstairs to the primary bathroom. When he flicked on the light, the brightness stung my eyes, but after blinking rapidly a few times, I adjusted quickly.
The bathroom boasted of a ginormous bathtub, a separate walk-in glass-paneled shower, gleaming white cabinets, his-and-her sinks beneath a large wall-length mirror, and, of course, a toilet behind a privacy half-wall.
The fixtures were, as expected, luxurious.
“Drew did a number on you,” I said, giving his face a fresh inspection now that I could see it more clearly.
His lip was split in the corner, his swollen jaw was a blend of black and red, and the cut in his hairline looked angry. Matty’s arms were scratched up, too. I thought he’d end up with a black eye, but Drew’s punches hadn’t found purchase on that part of Matty’s face.
Matty opened a cabinet drawer and retrieved a first aid kit. “Yeah, well, he’ll look worse.” There was nothing boastful about his statement. “Plus, he’ll be hobbling around for a while.”
“No doubt,” I agreed, “but it’s not him I’m worried about.”
Matty cocked his head. “You’re worried about me?” He looked at himself in the mirror and waved a hand in front of his face. “Most of this is superficial, though my jaw hurts.” He gingerly cupped the offending area to confirm his hypothesis. “I may have a loose molar.”
“Okay, maybe ‘worried’ is too strong a word.” I opened the kit and sifted through its contents while Matty sat on the edge of the tub. “Do you think the first aid kit has a tooth extraction tool?” I laughed at Matty’s horrified expression. “Kidding, of course.”
“Sure hope you’re joking.”
I ran a soft washcloth under hot water, wrung it, and dabbed it at Matty’s cuts and scrapes to remove dried blood. He winced a few times but never complained.
“You know,” I started, “I’ve never had someone fight over me. I feel responsible for your cuts and bruises.”
“In case it wasn’t clear,” he said, his trusting eyes finding mine, “I wanted to beat his ass for my own reasons, too. But I sure as hell wasn’t about to sit there and let him insult you or insinuate that his actions over the last three years were your fault.”
I felt too emotional to respond to that.
Once Matty’s wounds were clean, I opened an antiseptic wipe and gently applied it to all his open cuts.
“Jeez,” Matty breathed out as I attended to the cut at his forehead. “That seriously stings.”
“Sorry,” I said as I made quick work of applying antibacterial ointment and a Band-Aid to his forehead. I also placed a Band-Aid at a particular deep cut on his left arm. I sat back on my haunches. Even banged up, Matty was handsome. I imagined a mafia prince. “Thank you for defending me, Matty. Thank you for having my back.”
“I’ll always have your back, Ciaran.”
Then, a heartbeat later, Matty started laughing at our image in the mirror.
I went to the sink to wash my hands. I spoke to his reflection in the mirror. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Do you know the Disney film Beauty and the Beast?” he asked. “You know, the cartoon. Belle and the furry Beast guy, and the talking clock and candlestick?”
