Rewritten (The Bound Series Book 7)

by Bronwyn Green

  Placing her palms on his thighs, she pressed down, and Angus’s legs flattened to the floor. Hiking up her skirt with both hands, she straddled him. Her foot bumped against closet door, knocking it open a bit. In the shaft of light that filtered into the darkened space, she could see the hunger that tightened Angus’ face, the need in his nearly black eyes.

  She rocked forward, her breath catching as he hardened against her. His hands skimmed up her arms and over her shoulders, caressing her face. He stared into her eyes as if he were searching for something. She had no idea if he found it, but he drove his fingers into her hair and dragged her forward, kissing her again.

  He swept his tongue into her mouth on a groan, stroking and tasting her, exploring. A whimper escaped her at his possession. His fingers tangled in her hair, he angled her head with one hand and slid the other down her back, gripping her hip and locking her tightly against him. It had been so, so long since she’d let anyone this close, let anyone touch her like this, she practically melted in his arms.

  He ground into her, setting off waves of urgency, and moisture slicked her folds. She needed more. And she needed it now. Clutching at his shoulders, wanting him closer, she tried to yank off his shirt.

  Spell broken, he stopped the kiss, shaking his head as if to clear it. “What’ere you doin’, lass?” His voice was a husky rasp that sent shivers of want skittering along her spine.

  Leaning forward, she nipped at his lip. “I already told you.”

  “Getting what you need?”

  She rocked against the hard ridge of his cock again, but his other hand fell to her hip, his grip like iron, immobilizing her. The sensation of being restrained sang through her body. Her head dropped back, and she moaned, savoring the way he refused to let her move.

  “Eliza.”

  She ignored his gentle reprimand and tried to keep thrusting against him, desperate to know what would happen if she kept pushing.

  “Eliza,” he snapped.

  A shiver went through her at his tone, and she froze, opening her heavy eyelids to stare at him.

  “We’re not doing this now.”

  She frowned. “You told me you’d give me what I needed.”

  “Aye, I will. When you’re ready.”

  She slid her hands down his chest to his waist and began to unbuckle his belt. “I’m ready now.”

  He settled his hands over hers, stopping her motion, but she shook him off and returned to his belt buckle. This time, he caught her wrists, and shifting them slightly, pinned her hands behind her back, again resting his other hand on her hip, branding her through her clothes.

  A fresh rush of arousal dampened her panties as he held her mostly motionless. The position thrust her breasts forward, and she couldn’t help feeling a little satisfaction when his gaze dropped to her hardened nipples and stayed there for an agonizingly long time. Finally, he met her eyes, and she shivered under his scrutiny.

  “What is it you need?” His accent was heavier than usual, and another shudder worked through her at the delicious sound of it.

  She shook her head.

  “If you’re wanting something, you’re going to have to tell me what it is.”

  She closed her eyes, too raw to bear the connection any longer. “I don’t want to think or remember. I just want to feel.”

  He didn’t say anything for what felt like years. He didn’t shift. Didn’t tighten or loosen his grip on her hip or her wrists. He stayed stone still. Finally, her tension grew to the point where she knew she had to look at him or suffocate from the rhinoceros that had suddenly decided to nap on her chest. She blinked open her eyes. He continued to watch her.

  Dread crawled over her skin like ants. She was so stupid. She’d thrown herself at him, but it was clear he wasn’t interested. If she hadn’t been a human train wreck earlier, she would have realized that. He’d simply been offering her comfort—nothing else. Sure, he’d been interested in more—before she’d become completely unhinged. Now that he knew how unstable she was, that offer had clearly been rescinded. She couldn’t blame him. Who wanted to explore potentially mutual kinks with someone who crawled into a closet and hid? She had no doubt he’d be googling Libby, now—if only for his own safety. Better to know what kind of crazy he was dealing with.

  She scooched backward, inching away from his still-hard cock. She knew it wasn’t anything more than a physiological response to a half-crazed woman rubbing her pussy against him. That would probably happen to nearly any hetero or bisexual man in his position.

  Her cheeks, still damp with traces of tears, heated suddenly. She was surprised steam wasn’t rising off her face. Pulling her wrists free from Angus’ grasp, she pushed the closet door the rest of the way open and swung her leg over his, crawling off him and climbing gracelessly to her feet.

  “Eliza?” he asked, pushing himself to stand, half in the closet, half out. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “Nothing.” Nothing except the constant barrage of humiliated recrimination that was now the soundtrack to her life. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look directly at him, so she settled for somewhere over the vicinity of his left shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry. That was unbelievably inappropriate of me. It will never happen again.” Her eyes burned with embarrassed tears, but she blinked them away. “I hope my lapse in judgment won’t make it difficult for us to work together in the future. However, I completely understand if you’re no longer comfortable—”

  He’d laid a finger across her lips, and her eyes met his of their own accord. “You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

  She opened her mouth, but he pressed more firmly. He wasn’t finished.

  “As I was saying,” he frowned pointedly at her, “you had an anxiety attack. That’s nothing you need apologize for.”

  She raised her eyebrows but waited until he moved his finger so she could speak. “How about the fact that I just subjected you to awful unwanted advances? If that’s not apology-worthy, I don’t know what is.”

  Her pulse started racing again, and her throat threatened to close. Angus studied her for a moment then turned to her bed and pulled back the covers. Spying her nightgown peeking out from under her pillow, he tugged it out and handed it to her. “Put that on, and get ready for bed. And while you’re doing that, you’re going to listen to me.”

  She stared at him as he gently grasped her shoulders and turned her, steering her toward the bathroom. Moving woodenly, she shivered slightly at the cold tile against her bare feet as Angus followed her to the doorway, resting his forearms against the frame. She glanced at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “Just so we’re both on the same page,” he murmured.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  “You need to understand a few things.”

  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she wet a washcloth. “What things are those?”

  Turning back to the mirror, she winced. She looked worse than she’d even imagined. She scrubbed the tears and the remainder of the makeup from her face, a vaguely sick feeling settling in her stomach, as she waited for him to continue.

  “You seem to be under the impression that your advances were unwanted. I assure you, they were very much wanted. But...”

  This was the part where he told her that he’d changed his mind. She was betting the suggested trip to Scotland was way out, too. She shook several ibuprofen into the palm of her hand and downed the pills with a swallow of water from the bottle on her counter. While she was at it, she popped a couple of the muscle relaxers she kept on hand for her period. She’d need them to get any sleep tonight. And hopefully, it would be deep and dreamless, and she could avoid thinking about Nigel and Angus until morning.

  “But,” he said, “as much as I’d love to take you up on your invitation, I can’t do that when you’re in no condition to give consent.”

  She opened her mouth then closed it, finally saying, “I’m fine. It’s not like I’ve been drink
ing.”

  “Adrenaline and fear are just as potent as alcohol—maybe even more so if you’re chasing one high to escape another.”

  Eliza scowled at him as she brushed her teeth before spitting and rinsing. She stalked toward him. “You don’t want to have sex, that’s fine. I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t need you to police my actions.”

  Reaching out, he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip before letting his hand fall to his side. “I’m not policing your actions; I’m policing my own. I like you, Eliza. I like you a lot.”

  Her stomach trembled at his words, as much as the way he pronounced her name.

  “I’m not willing to screw up our friendship for a fuck you might regret, come morning. You want to have at and submit to me once you’ve dealt with the scare that sent you into my arms in the first place, we can do that. But not until you’re acting rather than reacting.”

  She stood and blinked at him for several long moments. He wanted acting? Fine. Holding his gaze, she unzipped her skirt and let the fabric drop to the floor, puddling at her feet. His eyes stayed on hers, but to her satisfaction, it seemed to be a bit of a struggle for him. Lifting her hands, she unbuttoned her blouse, refusing to look away. His jaw tightened as if he was willing himself to maintain control, but his gaze didn’t drop. Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra, but at the last moment, she lost her nerve. She dragged her sundress-style nightgown over her head before completely removing her bra. But whatever. She’d made her point.

  Stepping past him into the room, she glanced around for her purse so she could charge her phone. She realized she’d left it under the table at the signing. Suddenly overwhelmed, she tried to keep her voice from quavering as she asked, “Do you think the bookstore is still open?”

  “What?”

  “I forgot to grab my purse before I left.”

  “Hang on.” Angus disappeared through the door between their two rooms then returned with her bag. “I’m sorry it’s a mess. I dumped it to find your room key.”

  Her lips lifted in a watery smile, and she sniffled as she dug around for her charger. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  She nodded, but she wasn’t sure if he’d noticed. She couldn’t believe he’d thought to grab her purse. Not only that, he’d climbed into a fucking closet and held her until she’d calmed down. And then refused to fuck her because he was too goddamn honorable. Though, she had to admit, he’d probably been right to turn her down. With all the memories careening through her head since seeing Nigel, she was nothing more than a giant exposed nerve. And if Angus hadn’t run from her yet, the last thing she wanted to do was chase him away with the emotional equivalent of a claymore.

  She turned on the lamp next to the bed then plugged in her phone and switched off the other lights. Wiping away the tears that had leaked over her cheeks, she startled as Angus wrapped his arms around her from behind. She lifted her hands to his forearms and simply remained still, letting his warmth seep into her. If only they could just stay like this until she felt more secure—until she felt like she wouldn’t break down or fly to pieces at any moment. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

  Angus pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Into bed with you, lass.”

  She wiped her hand across her eyes. “Tucking me in?” She tried to make a joke of it, but her voice sounded a little strained.

  “Something like that.”

  He released her, and she climbed into bed and laid down, freezing slightly as the mattress dipped behind her. “Change your mind?” she asked, not sure whether to feel hopeful or not.

  “About giving you what you need? Absolutely not. But right now, I’m giving us what we both need.”

  “And that is?” she asked as he slid in behind her, spooning her.

  “I think that, more than anything, we could both use some sleep. And I’m not going to sleep if I’m worried about you.” He slid his arm underneath her, encouraging her to pillow her head on his biceps as he notched his knees into the crook of hers. It was only then that she realized that he’d changed into a t-shirt and sweats.

  “So, this is altruistic cuddling, is it?”

  He chuckled, shaking the bed slightly, and she couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips.

  “Exactly.” He draped his arm across her waist. “This okay?”

  She nodded, closing her eyes, and allowing herself to relax against him. And it was. She’d felt better than she had before she’d realized how horrifically awful the world could be.

  Chapter Twenty

  Angus opened his eyes. He had his usual morning hard-on, but instead of an empty bed, he was curled around Eliza, and his cock was more than aware of it. Now that he was blinking away sleep from his exhaustion-drunk brain, more than just his cock was aware. Her warm curves pressed against him, and he couldn’t help but tighten his arms around her, drawing her closer. He had no clue if she’d still feel the same way about being with him this morning, so he was going to hold her for as long he could. For as long as she’d let him.

  She sighed in her sleep, wriggling closer to him, pressing the sweet curve of her arse against his groin. His prick throbbed insistently, and all he really wanted to do was flip her over and wake her with his mouth. With his hands. And that was why he needed to get out of her bed. He didn’t need to be touching her until he was positive that was what she wanted. She’d clearly been through some shit, and he wasn’t about to add to her trauma.

  As soon as she shifted again, he carefully extricated himself and went back to his room to dress and brush his teeth. He’d grab them some coffee, and then they could discuss what came next.

  Forty-five minutes later, as he balanced a takeaway tray of hot coffee and unlocked her door, he was still thinking about it. He hoped that what came next would be her accompanying him home, along with several weeks of giving her what she needed. Which, he was positive, would also be exactly what he needed.

  He pushed down the handle and shouldered open the door, stopping dead as Eliza nearly walked into it, computer case and purse slung over her shoulder and dragging her suitcase behind her. Had she been called back to New York? His stomach knotted at the thought of not seeing her every day.

  Her gaze dropped to the tray in his hand then darted up to his eyes, her shame clear. “I thought you...”

  Understanding dawned as he stepped farther into the room, into her personal space, letting the door swing shut behind him. “You thought I what?”

  She swallowed hard, and her face flushed. Shaking her head, she said, “Nothing.”

  His heart clutched slightly at her bedraggled appearance. She’d been so upset, she’d been about to leave without even brushing her hair. In all the time they’d spent together, he’d never seen her go anywhere looking less than completely put together.

  He set down the coffee on the dresser and took another step toward her, and uncurled her hand from the death-grip she currently had on the handle of her suitcase. “You thought I’d run away? Much like you’re attempting, right now?”

  She didn’t respond, just turned away from him as if she couldn’t bear to look at him.

  “Is that what you do? Run away when people get too close?”

  Her head whipped around, and she stared at him, lips parted, but no sound came out.

  He hadn’t let go of her hand. Instead, he laced their fingers together, and he pulled her closer.

  “When I woke up and you were gone, I thought that last night had probably been too much for you. I mean, for fuck’s sake, you found me cowering in the closet. And then, I practically assaulted you. What about any of that seems like something a rational person wants to stick around for?”

  “And you didn’t think to maybe call me? Or text?”

  She shrugged. “You’re a nice guy. You take care of people. I didn’t want you to feel guilted into to coming back here if you didn’t want to.”

  “I’m not that nice.”

  She snorted. “R
ight, and you didn’t go out of your way to visit an ill fan a few weeks ago.”

  “Goddamn it, Eliza! I’m not here with you because I’m being nice.” Frustration welled and spilled over, and he released her hand to gesture at the tray on the dresser, but she didn’t move away. “Getting you coffee was being nice.”

  Her eyes widened, and he reached out and dragged her against him, locking an arm around her waist as he tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.

  “I’m here with you because I want to be.”

  Her expanding pupils swallowed the flecks of color in her irises, and she drew a shallow breath.

  “The question is, do you want me here? Or was last night just a way to feel something other than what you were feeling?”

  For the longest time, she simply stared at him. A niggling sense of dread took root in his stomach and slowly expanded until he started to loosen his hold on her. He wasn’t going to try to push her into something she wasn’t ready for. Or worse, something she didn’t want.

  Her tongue darted out, and she moistened her lips and she looked away for a second then back again. “What if it was both?”

  It took a second or two for her words to sink in. Lowering his mouth to hers, he whispered, “I can live with that.”

  Her breath caught as he captured her lips, and she melted against him. He kept his arm around her, pinning her tightly to him. With his free hand, he lifted her bags from her shoulder and gently set them next to her suitcase, then fisted his hand into the still-tangled silk of her hair.

  She shivered, a slight whimper escaping her as he held her tighter, pressing her softness against him. Her hands clutched at his waist, sliding beneath his shirt as she nipped his lower lip. His fingers contracted in her hair, and her whimper became a groan that he swallowed down as he crushed his mouth to hers, taking control of the kiss.