CHAPTER TWO
1047 Words
STRANGER'S DANGER
Mathilda’s POV
What did they say about stranger danger again?
For someone with a law degree and a very functional brain, I seem to be breaking every survival rule my mama ever drilled into me because here I am inside a single motel room with a man whose name I didn’t even know an hour ago. Sure, there are two beds, but still.
The room itself looks like something from a 1980s Christmas postcard someone forgot to update, with the wallpaper curls at the edges and radiator clicks like it’s chewing on something, or the weird painting of a snowy cabin hangs crooked above my bed, and beside it sits an old family portrait where everyone looks mildly haunted. Great. Just what my anxiety needs.
The bed creaks each time I move, which definitely doesn’t help, because three feet away is a life-sized human male carved out of stone and silence. Mr Brooding is the type who speaks like each word costs money.
To distract myself, I unpack my little skin care army. If the world ends, at least my face will be moisturized. I grab my cleanser, micellar water, cotton pads, and escape into the bathroom.
The moment the warm shower hits my skin, my imagination betrays me. Like, not even a fool could pretend not to notice that man outside. Broad shoulders, jaw sharp enough to cut through stone and the kind of presence that makes you want to sit up straighter, breathe quieter and blush harder. And I’m surely not a fool.
Oh My God!
The smell of his cologne has followed me into the bathroom, dark, woodsy, call it delusional but everywhere smells divine and being naked and with this in the air isn’t helping my thoughts and already wet p***y.
As my hands begin to go down my body, to at least rub one off, to ease the tension, just when my finger is above my c**t and hand tweaking my nipples
Sudden darkness.
The lights go out with a pop and a sizzle, and I let out a scream so high-pitched I’m sure dogs in neighboring towns heard it, my heart slams against my ribs.
As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see a shadow holding light and then hangs it inside the bathroom,
So I swallow my fear and call out, “Hey, Stranger can you stay in here with me for a bit? I—I’m scared of the dark.”
Silence greets me
Great. The one time I want the brooding statue to speak.
I rinse off in record speed, grab the nearest towel, and fling open the bathroom door only to slam head-first into a wall. Or what I think is a wall.
Ohhh
It’s warm, solid and definitely breathing.
The words tumble out before my dignity can catch them.
“I wouldn’t want to wake up from a nightmare if it comes with such strong muscles.”
A low throat-clear cuts through the darkness.
Humiliation hits me like a brick. I step back so fast I almost slip, but I force myself to lift my chin, because if there’s anything I have left, it’s pride.
“Um… towel, please.” I gesture behind him.
He hands it over without a word.
Of course he doesn’t talk. Why would he? Why use twenty words when zero will do? I wrap myself and sweep past him like nothing happened even though my soul is currently cringing on the floor.
I put on my cutest pajamas. Pure coincidence. Not chosen because they cling nicely in the right places. Absolutely not.
I slip into bed and try to sleep.
After about an hour, the mattress springs start squeaking in protest because I won’t stop tossing.
“Hey… hey stranger,” I whisper into the dark.
This time, I get a grunt. Progress.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Lorenzo.” he replies,
“What are you taking this trip for?” I ask again
“Business. And visiting my grandma.” he replies
I keep rambling. He keeps giving me answers that are technically correct but emotionally bankrupt. After thirty minutes, I’m running out of questions and he’s running out of patience.
Finally, I sigh dramatically. “Would you mind if we, um… joined the beds? To make a bigger one. This one’s tiny and honestly not comfortable.”
No verbal response. Instead, the rustle of sheets, the heavy thud of feet on the floor, and then the sound of wood scraping. I peek over the covers as he shoves his entire bed across the floor until it lines up with mine. He lies back down without commentary.
It’s strange, but a soft, warm feeling settles in my chest.
I fall asleep faster than I expect.
I wake to my heart pounding like it’s trying to escape my chest. The ringing in my ears hums loud, an echo of a nightmare I can’t fully remember. It’s been years since I had one. Not since…
I exhale slowly.
The room is dim, the storm outside tapping lightly against the window. And beside me, I feel a warmth, I instinctively move toward it, half awake, I press my butt towards
…and feel something hard poking my behind.
My breath hitches and my cheeks burn even in the dark.
But instead of pulling away, I find myself melting helplessly towards him
And then I turn.
My hand moves without conscious permission, sliding up warm skin, stubble, the smooth plane of his jaw. I trace the line of it gently, my fingertips reckless in the dark.
His breath catches.
Not loud.
But unmistakable.
My pulse leaps, frantic.
I imagine his dark gray eyes watching me, heavy-lidded and unreadable. I picture that sculpted face. Those broad shoulders. The quiet, immovable presence that has somehow become the safest thing in this haunted little room.
Then I feel it—
His heart.
Beating faster beneath my palm.
I inhale sharply, forcing my sleepy eyes open, and—
He’s awake.
Watching me.
Cold gray eyes glowing in the darkness, fixed on mine with a quiet intensity that steals the air from my lungs.
Heat blooms between us, slow and impossible to ignore.
And neither of us moves.
Not away or closer, silence spreads
- Writer
