To Have & to Hurt by Morgan Bridges
Violetta
“My companions and I would like to be shown to our quarters immediately,” Tristano says, his voice ringing through the room like a gong that’s been struck. It has a deep quality, an underlying tone threaded with steely authority that seeps directly into your skin.
Or maybe I’m the only one who’s affected in such a way.
I’ve been around men with power and wealth, but none have ever commanded a room like Tristano does. There’s something about the energy that flows from him; it’s like the air is charged with electricity, making your skin prickle with awareness.
However, my opinion is skewed because I’m attracted to him.
He’s the first man to catch my attention in such a way, and that was before he ever touched me. My cheeks blaze with heat at the memory of what happened between us on the way here. I haven’t allowed myself to process that, although it needs to be done so I can regulate my actions going forward. This is why I’m grateful he’s requested we be shown to our rooms for the night since it’ll give me the quiet, alone time I desperately need.
Beni gets to his feet and immediately turns to assist me. I take his hand, noting the physical connection does nothing to me. There’s no racing of my pulse or tremors skating along my body until they reach my core. There isn’t a dampening between my thighs or a hardening of my nipples, no feeling that my breasts are heavy.
And there isn’t the desire to touch him, to explore every divot and curve of muscle.
I give Beni a smile of gratitude that barely constitutes one, but he doesn’t seem to care or notice. Instead, he returns the gesture, his full and warm. I’m not sure what it’s like to have a brother and I’ll never truly know, yet I imagine he’d be like Beni. I’ve never seen him look at me with anything dark or sinister, only with respect and amusement. He’s always maintaining a polite distance and is there to help me with the simplest tasks. In short, it blows my mind that someone could have a platonic relationship with me.
And it makes me feel safe.
The moment I’m standing I catch Tristano’s gaze over Beni’s shoulder. And it’s shimmering with anger. Like a pair of diamonds catching the light of the chandelier above, Tristano’s eyes glitter with such intensity that I have to look away, unable to handle the brilliance of them. I know he’s beyond upset at the circumstances, because who wouldn’t be considering what’s transpired?
However, I have no desire to be on the receiving end of his wrath.
Beni holds out his arm for me to take and, after a moment’s deliberation, I do. He pats my hand lightly, in an almost fatherly way, and leads me from the dining room. We trail behind Tristano who’s following the butler through the long hallway.
“Come along, Violet the vicious,” Beni says with a wink. “You need your sleep if you’re going to whip my ass in Tetris on the way home tomorrow. Just know that I let you win last time, but I’ll show you no mercy from now on. Which means you’re going down.”
A smirk pulls at my lips. Yeah, sure, I mouth.
He jerks to a stop and blinks down at me. I frown, searching his widened gaze for a clue as to what’s bothering him. “Did you just sort of speak to me?” he asks, his tone filled with disbelief.
From the corner of my eye I watch Tristano freeze mid-step. His large frame stiffens right before he slowly turns to peer at us over his shoulder. If I thought his gaze was shiny before, now it’s bright enough to rival the full moon outside.
I swallow the nerves gathering in my throat and shrug. Not exactly an admission but not a lie either.
“Wow,” Beni says. “I don’t think you actually made a sound, but I read your lips easily enough. Is this your new way of speaking, but incognito? ’Cause I’m cool with that. It’ll be a lot easier for you to talk shit that way.” He tilts his head in thought. “I guess it’d be mouthing shit, but whatever you call it, I think that’s fucking awesome.”
If my entire face isn’t pink from blushing, I’ll be surprised. I’m hot everywhere with embarrassment, but some of the warmth is due to feeling…happy. The last time I was like this was when Carina went on and on about how beautiful I looked after she’d dolled me up with makeup and a flattering hairstyle. I was pleased yet shy, just like I am now.
Although, another reason for my blush stems from Tristano. If possible, he looks angrier than before, and the reason is quite difficult to pinpoint. I highly suspect that Beni delaying Tristano from retiring for the night is the reason for his thundering expression.
To help defuse the situation, I jerk my head in the direction we were originally heading and mouth, we should go now, to Beni.
He flicks his gaze over to Tristano and back, and then nods. We fall into step behind Tristano like before and I exhale in relief. It’s challenging to be on the receiving end of his stares, especially when the silver rings start to resemble the barrel of a pistol.
Beni leans down, but doesn’t stop walking. “He’s just sleep-deprived and in a bad mood. Understandably, but don’t let him get to you. Okay?”
Yup.
“Good.” He straightens and goes back to facing forward. “I wasn’t kidding about Tetris though.”
My lips twitch and I fight the smile that tries to rise, but I’m unsuccessful. Beni has somehow disarmed me with the ridiculous things he says, as well as his loyalty to Tristano. It gives me hope that one day I won’t be scared of every man I come across.
I know that my ability to speak is somewhat impaired, but now I suspect my hearing is as well. Did Beni just say there’s only one room in this guest house, and that it only has a single king-sized bed?
If possible, Tristano looks more upset about it than me.
“What do you want to do, boss?” Beni asks. “I can go back there and tell them we want to stay somewhere else. It’s not like that damn house isn’t big enough.”
Tristano works his jaw back and forth before answering. “I’m not open to the idea of conversing with her more than necessary, let alone asking for a favor.”
“Okay.” Beni glances around, taking in the elegantly decorated living room. “I’ll sleep outside Violet’s door.” At my sharp inhale, he looks down at me. “It’s not the first time I’ve done something like that, so don’t worry. Besides, it’ll make my Tetris victory all the better because I’ll still beat you even after a crappy night of sleep.”
This isn’t right.
He pats my hands. “It’s fine. Don’t feel sorry for me and go easy on me when we battle it out. Okay?”
I guess.
“Are you quite finished?” Tristano’s voice hits me like a slap to the face. Both me and Beni zip our gazes to him and I take in the hard lines of Tristano’s face. I didn’t think any of his anger was derived from anything I’ve done, but now I’m not so sure.
His anger feels targeted. Personal.
“Sure thing,” Beni says slowly, removing my arm from his.
Tristano follows the motion with a narrowed gaze. “You will take the couch,” he instructs Beni.
The next thought is logical in nature. There’s only one option that’s feasible because there’s no way Tristano would volunteer to sleep on the floor. Ever. Yet my brain refuses to acknowledge this next step. Or maybe it’s my body that doesn’t want to, out of fear it’ll no longer be controlled by me?
If Tristano had no qualms about doing those intimate things to me in the jeep with other people close by, then what would he do if we were alone and without the threat of being discovered? A strong tremor snakes its way down my spine.
Is that from apprehension or anticipation?
“You don’t need to look so dejected,” Tristano says to me, his harsh tone yanking me from my jumbled thoughts. “I won’t be sleeping tonight, so you needn’t worry about sharing the space with me.”
I release a breath and then halt it mid-stream when his glower intensifies. It’s clear that nothing I do or say will keep Tristano from releasing his anger toward me. Although unfair, there’s nothing I can do except quickly get to the solitude on the other side of the bedroom door.
However, I won’t lock it, because when I did that at the hotel he was far from pleased.
Beni opens his mouth as though to say something but then presses his lips together. His gaze darts between me and Tristano, and I give him a small shrug, trying to tell him that I’m just going to accept the situation and not worry about it.
It’s a partial truth because I’m going to go along with Tristano’s decision, but I’m totally going to worry about it. Not because I’m scared of being around Tristano. It’s that I don’t trust myself around him. He confuses me, makes me question my instincts, and until I organize my thoughts, I need to stay away from him.
“Have a good night then, boss,” Beni says, still eyeing Tristano warily. Then he shifts to face me. “Have a good night too, okay, Violet?”
The note of concern touches my heart. I’ll be fine.
He nods, but I’m not sure if he believes me. However, Beni heads to the living room, leaving me alone with Tristano. He opens the door to the bedroom and tilts his head, indicating I should enter. I’m quick to walk, while doing my best not to scurry past him like frightened prey.
Once I’m inside my gaze hones in on the massive four-poster bed, the sheer white curtains pulled back to enable me a view of the ivory bedding and decorative pillows. I’m positive that Tristano, Beni, and I could all sleep in it without touching each other. Not the best image, yet it’s better than imagining me and Tristano alone.
Maybe not better, but definitely safer.
I move further into the room and approach the bed once I notice the bundle of clothing off to the side. It’s definitely intended for a woman, if the purple flowers along the neckline are any indication. I lift the garment and hold it up to inspect it. The nightgown is made of silk, something finer and more expensive than I’ve ever owned.
“Are you going to wear that?”
With a scream building in my throat, I swing around to face Tristano while clutching the nightie to my chest as though it’s a shield.
“My apologies,” he says. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
It’s more like he exorcised my soul from my body but whatever.
I shrug at him, my heart still pounding crazily.
“You know I don’t consider that a response.”
It takes me a moment to recall his demand that I speak or mouth every word to him. I can’t understand why he’s so concerned about my communication. My theory is Tristano enjoys domineering over others. He’s certainly bossy enough.
No, I mouth. Then I reach behind me and blindly place the nightgown on the bed. Feeling exposed and not having something to do with my hands, I fold my arms and wait. For what? I have no clue, yet his body language indicates he’s in no hurry to let me go to sleep.
“Lying to me is never a good idea, ribelle.” He leans against the wall opposite of me and crosses his arms. That’s way more intimidating when he does it. “I saw the way your eyes lit up when you first looked at the garment, so I know you want to wear it.”
I bite my inner cheek, unsure of what to do next. He’s right, but it doesn’t matter since he’s not going to see me in it. I hope my lack of response will encourage him to drop the subject.
It doesn’t.
“Put it on,” he says.
He peruses my body, starting with my face and working his way down the length of me, only to slowly drag his gaze back up until we’re staring at one another. After the intense scrutiny his eyes are much brighter when they find mine. My lungs compress as though a vacuum has formed inside, sucking all the air from my chest. I stare at Tristano with my mouth agape and my eyes wide.
“I’m not going to repeat myself,” he says, “but what I will say is it’ll be my pleasure to assist, if you can’t manage on your own in a timely manner.”
Seconds pass and finally the meaning of his words penetrates the fog of incredulity floating in my brain. I snatch up the nightie and all but run to the adjoining bathroom, intending to lock the door and never come out.
Childish, sure. But I’m technically not a legal adult.
Until tomorrow.