Hold Me

Chapter 18

18

Julian

I wake up the next morning to the familiar feel of Nora sprawled on top of me. As usual, she’s sleeping with her head pillowed on my chest and one of her slim legs draped across my thighs. I can feel the soft, plump weight of her breasts against my side, hear her even breathing, and my c**k stiffens as recollections of last night invade my mind in graphic detail.

I don’t know why I occasionally feel this urge to torment her, to hear her beg and plead. Why the sight of her bound to my bed gives me such satisfaction. When we were driving from her parents last night, I planned to take her gently and have her go to sleep, but when I saw her standing next to that four-poster bed, my good intentions went up in smoke. Something about the way she had been looking at me sharpened the dangerous hunger inside, bringing the darkness to the surface. What I wanted to do to her only began with ropes, and if I hadn’t made myself walk out of the room after tying her up, I would’ve broken the vow I made to myself the night I hurt her.

The vow to keep violence out of our bedroom for the next few months.

Thankfully, leaving her for a bit and taking a cold shower in one of the guest rooms seemed to do the trick, taking the edge off the craving. When I came back, I was more in control, able to settle for torturing her with pleasure instead of pain.

A change in Nora’s breathing brings my attention back to her. She shifts on top of me, making a soft noise, and rubs her cheek against my chest. “You didn’t get up yet,” she murmurs sleepily, and I smile, a peculiar sense of wellbeing spreading through me at the pleased note in her voice.

“No, not yet,” I confirm, stroking her smooth, naked back. “I will in a few moments, though.”

“Do you have to?” Her words are muffled. “You make a nice pillow.”

“I’m glad I can be of use.”

At my dry tone, she moves her head, looking up at me through her long, dark lashes. “Does it bother you? That I sleep on top of you like this?”

“No.” I grin at her question. “Do you think I’d let you if it did?”

She blinks. “No. Of course you wouldn’t.” Moving off me, she sits up, pulling the blanket up around her. “We should probably get up. I wanted to go for a run before breakfast.”

I sit up too. “A run?”

“Yes. It’s safe here, isn’t it?”

“Not as safe as at the compound.” The idea of her running out there makes me uneasy, even with all the security measures and no obvious threat in sight. If anything were to happen to her…

“Julian, please.” Nora begins to look upset. “I’m just going to run here, in Palos Park. I won’t go far, but I can’t stay cooped up in this house for two weeks—”

“I’ll go with you.” I get up and walk over to the closet to find a pair of running shorts. “Get dressed. We should hurry. I’m guessing Rosa is already preparing breakfast.”

We start the run with an easy jog to warm up. It’s a brisk sixty degrees out, but moving keeps me from feeling the chill, even though I’m not wearing a shirt. I debate having Nora put on more layers, but she looks comfortable in her cropped leggings and a T-shirt, so I decide to let it slide.

As we exit our driveway and turn onto the street, I keep a careful eye on neighbors’ cars pulling out of their garages and people stepping out for their own morning run. Being around so many strangers makes me uneasy. My men are strategically positioned all around the community, so I know we’re safe, but I can’t help watching for signs of danger.

“You know nobody’s going to jump at us from the bushes, right?” Nora says, obviously noticing my preoccupation with our surroundings. “It’s not that kind of neighborhood.”

I glance at her. “I know. I vetted it.”

She smiles and picks up speed. “Of course you did.”

I match her pace, and we run at a fast clip for the next several blocks. A light sheen of perspiration appears on Nora’s face, making her golden skin glow, and I find myself increasingly distracted by the sight of her. She always looks sexy when she runs, her petite body athletic and feminine at the same time. The tight, round muscles of her ass bunch and flex with every step she takes, and I can’t help picturing my hands squeezing those globes as I slam my c**k into her.

Fuck. At this rate, I’m going to need another cold shower.

“What are you doing after breakfast?” Nora asks breathlessly as we pass a jogging couple. “Do you have some work to do?”

“I have that meeting with my portfolio manager in the city,” I reply, trying to control the urge to turn and glare at the male jogger. The fucker eyed Nora a bit too appreciatively when we ran past him. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

“Oh, that’s good.” She’s beginning to pant as she speaks. “I want to get a haircut today, and maybe meet with Leah and Jennie.”

“What?” I turn my head to stare at her as we round the corner. “Where exactly are you planning to do these things?”

“At the Chicago Ridge Mall. I messaged Leah and Jennie last week, letting them know I’d be in town, and they said they were going to come in today and stay for the long Memorial Day weekend.” She says it all in one long breath, then gulps in more air and gives me an imploring look. “You don’t mind if I see them, right? I haven’t seen Jennie in two years, and Leah—” She abruptly falls silent, and I know it’s because she was going to say she saw Leah the last time she was in that cursed mall, when Peter let her act as bait for Al-Quadar. My pet doesn’t realize I already know about that meeting—and about Jake’s presence that day.

“You’re not going to that mall.” I know I sound harsh, but I can’t help it. Just the thought of her wandering around that place by herself is enough to make me see red. “It’s too crowded to be safe.”

“But—”

“If you want to meet with your friends, you can do so here at the house or at some restaurant in Oak Lawn—after I make sure it’s secure.”

Nora’s lips tighten, but she wisely doesn’t voice any objections. She knows this is as far as she can push me. “Okay, I’ll ask them to meet me at Fish-of-the-Sea,” she says after a minute. “What about my haircut?”

I eye the long, thick ponytail hanging down her back. It looks beautiful to me, especially with the end swinging back and forth over her shapely ass. “Why do you need one?”

“Because”—she pants as we pick up the pace—“I haven’t had so much as a trim in two years.”

“So?” I still don’t see the problem. “I like your hair long.”

“You are such a guy.” She can barely speak but somehow manages to roll her eyes. “I need to shape this mess. It’s driving me crazy.”

“I don’t want you cutting it short.” I don’t know why I care all of a sudden, but I do. “If you trim it, don’t take off more than a couple of inches.”

Nora gives me an incredulous look as we stop to let a car pull out of the driveway in front of us. “Really? Why?”

“I told you. I like it long.”

She rolls her eyes again as we resume running. “Yeah, okay. I wasn’t going to shave it off or anything. I just want to get some layers put in.”

“No more than a couple of inches,” I repeat, giving her a hard look.

“Uh-huh, sure.” I get the impression she’s doing a third eye-roll in her head. “So I’ll go for the haircut then?”

“Not at the Chicago Ridge Mall. Find a quiet place nearby, and I’ll have my men secure it.”

“Okay,” she gasps as we begin a full-out sprint. “It’s a deal.”

Before I leave for the city, I make sure Nora is fully set with her plans for the day. I assign a dozen of my best men to be her security detail and give them orders to be as unobtrusive as possible. She probably won’t even notice their presence, but they’ll make sure nobody suspicious gets within three hundred feet of her.

“I’ll be fine,” she says when I hesitate in the hallway before leaving the house. “Really, Julian. It’s just a haircut and lunch with the girls. I promise everything will be all right.”

I take a deep breath and release it. She’s right. I’m being paranoid at this point. The precautions I’m taking are the best way to keep her safe outside the compound. Of course, I could always keep her inside the compound for the rest of her life—that would be optimal for my peace of mind—but Nora wouldn’t be happy that way, and her happiness matters to me.

It matters far more than I would’ve ever expected.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, still reluctant to go for some reason. “Any nausea? Tiredness?” I glance at her stomach—a stomach that’s still flat in the tight jeans she’s wearing.

“No, nothing.” She gives me a reassuring smile when I look up to meet her gaze. “Not even a hint of nausea. I’m as healthy as a horse.”

“All right then.” Stepping toward her, I lift my hand to lightly stroke her cheek. “Be careful, baby, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers, looking up at me. “You too, Julian. Stay safe, and I’ll see you soon.”

And before I can step away, she rises up on her tiptoes and plants a brief, burning kiss on my lips.