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A pulsing heat began to spread outward from my core. I’d stopped breathing for the entirety of that gentle onslaught, and when he stood, he towered over me and kept hold of my hands. “Don’t do that again,” he chided sharply.

I sucked in a breath, my heart pounding so loud it was all I could hear. And when he raised my left hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, I still said nothing. I let him pull me out of the kitchen, down the hall, up the stairs, my mind a blank, fuzzy space.

There was a whole lot of me that never received any attention, an empty, hungry part that was starving for it. And he was feeding it, slowly and patiently. With a firm, steady hand. A calm, deep voice. A soft tongue.

When we reached the landing at the top, he walked us all the way to the end of the hall, stopping at the door on the right. There were three other rooms up here, one on the opposite end of Court’s, another door next to Court’s room that was tightly shut, and a bathroom in the middle of the hall.

What was behind that other door?

Court pushed his door open and walked into the room, pulling me inside. It was dark, the only light the faint glow of starlight on the blinds. He let go of my hand and disappeared into the gloom. There was a click as he turned on a lamp sitting on a nightstand by the bed, and I tried not to gape.

The room wasn’t very large, but the bed was. It had an ornate wooden frame and the headboard was almost three feet high, with four posts that jutted up about a foot. There were four huge pillows sheathed in black satin, and a black comforter that looked impossibly soft. There was a dresser across from the bed with a big flat screen on top of it, and a black armchair sat in the corner by the window. A bookshelf to the right of the bed was so full that he’d started stacking books on top of it.

And everything in the room was disturbingly neat and clean. There wasn’t a single wrinkle on the bed, everything on all the surfaces were lined up neatly, no clothes were lying around.

“The bathroom’s through there.” Court gestured to the right, where a door was partially cracked. “There’s towels already in there. Feel free to use my soap and shampoo and whatever else you need. I’ve got an extra toothbrush, too. I’ll get it out for you.” He went into the bathroom and I heard a drawer open and shut, then he came back out with two towels in his arms. He set them gently on the bed, then stood back. Opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, then closed it. He walked to the dresser and pulled out some clothes, set them on the end of the bed.

His eyes found mine, and something in my chest thumped erratically.

My stupid heart.

But there was a sadness in those green eyes of his, and I had the strongest and strangest urge to hold him. To beat back whatever had made him feel that way and stand guard so it never could again.

Fuck, I should just leave this place and move on, money or no money, before I completely lost myself. He was dangerous in more ways than one.

“Those are for you,” he said, pointing to the clothes. His clothes. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” he said quietly. Then he left.

I tried to hang on to that lingering outrage he’d sparked earlier, but when I searched for it, I came up empty. Somewhere between there and now, it had simmered down to an ember and then gone out completely. Maybe when he’d licked my palms. Kissed them reverently.

“Fuck,” I muttered, scrubbing my hands roughly down my face. With a sigh, I grabbed the shirt and sweatpants and went to the bathroom. I’d ask him if he could take me shopping or something, because no way was I wearing his clothes from now on. They wouldn’t even fit me properly. The sweatpants were a joke. I held them up and laughed at how big they were. I wasn’t even going to try putting them on. The shirt would have to do. But I didn’t want to put my dirty underwear back on, so I crept back into the bedroom and opened the top drawer of his dresser.

Bingo.

Court’s boxer collection.

They were all folded perfectly, and I wondered what kind of psychopath I was shacking up with. I grabbed a pair and shut the drawer.

The bathroom was small and simple, painted a light green. There was a small vanity, a toilet, and a shower and tub. When I looked in the mirror above the vanity, I cringed because I looked fucking rough. My gaze immediately homed in on the bandage Court had taped above my ear. I’d have to take it off before getting in the shower. I stepped closer to my reflection and pulled at the adhesive, wincing as I ripped it off. Pushing my hair back, I fingered the edges of the knot that had formed, the tiny scab at the center.

Tom’s bloodcurdling screams echoed in my mind. Whatever Court had done to him—and in spite of it being much deserved—was bad.

That right there was my reminder that Court was not someone I wanted to tangle with. He was as vicious as me, given the right amount of push. He just acted like a normal person most of the time.

It was an act, right? It had to be.

I stripped off my clothes, only glancing briefly at the faded scars on my arms. Another reminder of why I wasn’t the kind of person anyone could ever truly feel anything for. I was barely even a person.

Threading my fingers through my hair, I located all the hair pins and pulled them out, piling them on the counter without a single thought to making them look neat. The tidiness of everything around here was creeping me out.

I turned on the shower and stepped right into the spray before it could heat up. I relished the icy water for the two minutes it lasted, letting it re-freeze whatever had started to melt inside me.

Then I used his shampoo—was this why his hair was so soft?—and body wash. Shut off the water and stepped out, drying off with the softest towel that had ever touched my skin.

I slipped on the shirt Court had picked for me, big and black with the logo of some restaurant in Davenport. The Clucking Chicken it read in bright yellow, arching over a goofy picture of a chicken with bugged out cartoon eyes.

Thanks, asshole.

But it had long sleeves. Had he done that on purpose? Because he noticed I only wore long sleeves? Did he know something more?