Love and Decay, Kane's Law by Rachel Higginson Page B

me?” I asked her, feeling
achingly exposed.
    She shrugged like she didn’t have a choice,
but she did. I had just given her one. I felt warmed immediately by
her choice to stay with me.
    And then I felt hot- scorching- while she
watched me get ready from her perch on the useless toilet seat lid.
Her gaze never left my body. She stared, enthralled with my mouth
while I brushed and then my chest when I tugged off my t-shirt. Her
eyes raked over me. My body reacted in every way to her while she
stared at me. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting her in that
moment.
    If only to pull her inside the bathroom with
me. Push her against the sink. Grip her thighs and lift her up,
only to set her down on the edge of the ceramic countertop. All I
wanted was to step inside the cradle of her thighs and plunder her
mouth with mine. Claim her in every way.
    I shook my head at the same time she did-
both of us snapping out of a lust-induced haze.
    I went for my contacts then, desperate to get
them out and give my poor dry eyes some relief. I set them in their
little containers and slid on my glasses. They were cumbersome and
awkward at times, but I preferred them over my contacts. Contacts
were not a permanent solution. I was lucky I’d had enough to last
me this long. I was more worried about breaking my glasses.
    Not that I was entirely blind without my
visual aids, but it was decently bad- bad enough to know that
without something to bring the world around me into clarity I would
live the rest of my life with one giant migraine.
    Reagan had broken out into a blinding smile,
so I had to ask, “What?”
    “The glasses,” she laughed softly. “They’re
just not very intimidating.”
    I held out my hand to her and disguised my
shock when she actually took it. I pulled her to standing and
confessed, “I’m not trying to intimidate you, Reagan.”
    She didn’t answer me but I felt her believe
me. I saw it in her trusting expression, felt it in the way her
dainty fingers wrapped around mine. My chest swelled and I felt
like pounding it with pride.
    At one of the guest bedrooms, I stopped and
told her, “You can stay here until you’re… until you’re more
comfortable with being around me.”
    She nodded and seemed to relax even more.
“Thank you,” she answered sweetly.
    I walked her inside and motioned for her to
sit down on the bed. I hated this next part, especially because we
seemed to have just made progress; but I wasn’t foolish enough to
think this was unnecessary. I pulled the handcuffs from my back
pocket and she flinched and then tensed to rigid uncertainty. My
inflated chest collapsed immediately. I had just been the hero, but
now I was back to being the villain.
    Still, it couldn’t be helped.
    She would learn.
    This wouldn’t be necessary one day soon.
    With huge eyes she asked, “Can I at least
keep my hands in front of me? If they’re behind my back you’ll have
to cut them off by morning.”
    I shook my head but only because I didn’t
want her to catch me laughing at her sense of humor. I gestured
toward the head of the bed and she slowly moved into position.
    “You won’t try anything?” she asked a little
desperately.
    “Not a thing,” I swore- and I meant it. “Not
tonight.”
    “Swear it to me. Swear to me that if I put my
hands above my head you won’t touch.” Her eyes were flooded with
uncertain tears and her hands shook as she held them in front of
her, reluctant to submit.
    She had to learn to trust me. And at least in
this, I wouldn’t disappoint her.
    I had no interest touching her until she
absolutely wanted me to.
    “Reagan, I swear to you that I won’t touch
you tonight unless you give me permission.”
    She rolled her eyes but raised her hands
anyway. I drew close to her and enjoyed the heat that radiated from
her body, the pliancy of her body beneath mine, the way I could
just drop another half an inch and press the length of my body
against hers. But I stayed true to my word