My heart damn near exploded. This pull that he had on me… The connection I had toward him was too strong to ignore. Leaning forward, I willingly wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. It was the first time I went to him instead of him hovering over me. He stilled, his hands away from my body like he didn’t know what to do with them.
“You can hug me,” I muttered over his shoulder. “I’m not afraid of you anymore.”
With a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders left, and his arms wrapped around me.
“And you don’t have to talk. I can figure things out.”
He purred, his nose resting in the crook of my neck. The chill, the spark, ran down my arm, and my chest pushed further into his. I wanted to bury myself in him. Be wrapped up inside his warmth.
He pulled away against my wishes and cupped my cheek.
“You are not a prisoner here,” he muttered. “But you can never leave me.”
I chuckled at that, because I very well was a prisoner if I could never leave him. That didn’t seem to bother me, however. I was accepting whatever this feeling was, not questioning it, not being afraid of it any longer.
I was tired of being afraid.
And for once, I enjoyed being wanted for just company and human contact.
After having a proper shower and a good teeth brushing, Grim laid down a set of clothes on the counter for me to wear and a pair of underwear fell on to the floor.
He picked them up and blushed, his tanned face beet red. I giggled watching him leave while I held the wet towel around my body.
He was at least used to seeing me in a towel. When I was sick, he barely let me leave his sight, but he always kept his gaze toward my face.
Grim wasn’t being perverted; he kept his eyes downcast to give me privacy. He was the first guy that was honorable toward me. He was certainly different, and I wondered if he just wanted a companion to be with him.
My thoughts were out of control when Delilah once said that these men did not hold attraction to women. But Grim was giving me all the signs that he wanted me and the touches he gave me stirred a deep longing to want more.
I wanted him to…want me.
I’ve never been in a relationship—not that I wanted one through my late teens and early twenties. I was concentrating on surviving and survive I did. It was Grim’s presence that gave me the peace I had always craved.
I sighed, taking the gown he presented to me. Instead of the yoga pants and sweatshirt, this was a loose-fitting gown that went to my knees. It was light blue with decorative white ruffles around the hem of the gown. It was gorgeous, something so pretty I could have imagined myself wearing it if I was a teenager and allowed such things.
I stepped out of the bathroom, Grim was already laying on the cot beside the bed. His shirt was off, his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
I crawled into the bed, which was still covered in large pillows that rounded the mattress. I didn’t disturb them, remembering that Grim purposefully didn’t move them when he took me out of the bed earlier. I crawled over the wall—it was work—and I tried to get settled. But it didn’t feel right.
This, this just felt wrong.
I wiggled in the blankets, trying to wrap myself in a perfect cocoon but to no avail; I was getting nowhere. Rolling side to side, pushing the covers away, I sighed dramatically, lying face up, looking at the open ceiling of the rustic apartment.
“What’s wrong?” Grim poked his head over the mountain of pillows.
“I can’t sleep.” I shrugged, still pulling blankets around me. I shouldn’t want to feel wrapped up to the point where I couldn’t escape. I didn’t like small spaces. Too many times, I’d found myself in a cage or chained to a bed.
I groaned, throwing one pillow, and Grim opened his mouth, looking at me, the pillow now resting on the floor.
“Do you not like the nest?” His dark eyes widened, and his eyebrows hit the middle of his forehead.
“The what? The nest?”
He cleared his throat. “Bed, I mean the bed. Is it not comfortable?”
I hummed, frustrated. “I like the bed,” I said, still thinking about the term “nest” he’d used. “It is comfortable, but I feel—” I tapped my forehead, my eye twitching.
Grim grumbled, his finger gently touching the side of my face, causing the annoying twitching to stop.
