Antidote by LC Lehesaho

22

This is becoming a habit: me, mornings, and headaches.

What is also not helpful is that I've rolled onto my stomach while sleeping, face planted in the mattress. It's not a good idea to do that with a broken nose. Not at all. It takes a maximum effort to get up and off the bed to make coffee. I need it, and now I admit it, painkillers too.

When I get up, it occurs to me that I'm not alone. I turn back to look at the bed, and yes, Tiger is sleeping on his stomach too, hands under his head, and of course, he is sleeping without sheets. His blood runs hotter than mine, and because of it, he is always nagging at me about my sheets.

The tattoo of a roaring tiger on his side reaches his backside blending to the giant skull tattoo on his back. It starts just under his neck and goes all the way to his lower back. I was there with him when he got it, just like every other piece of ink on his body.

...and he was with me when I got mine. It's hard to even remember the time when he wasn't by my side.

I shouldn't keep looking at him, but it's hard to take my eyes off something as beautiful as he is. His skin seems tanned, but actually, it's like that year-round, so it must be inherited. We haven't talked about his family, hardly at all, but sometimes he mentions his mother. That's that, and I haven't pushed him to tell me more about his background. He doesn't have to say anything to me because I already know that the things he went through before he came here are things no one should ever experience, but a child? I'm not usually bloodthirsty, but I am when it comes to those who hurt him.

But I know he killed them. We have never discussed it, but one day after he'd been away with Dad for two days, he came home and hugged me for the first time. That wasn't the only thing I knew. The other one was that he took a deep breath and smiled at me afterward. Didn't say a word, but I knew.

Tiger looked relieved.

I was so happy for him, still am. Dad let him have his revenge, and he had enjoyed every second. It in itself told me that it was some sick and twisted shit they'd done to him because even me, who was trained to kill, got sick after my first kills. But not Tiger, he came home and smiled. I get it, though. He has scars all over his body, others more visible than others, but there are many of them. Still, even though I've looked at those scars for years, seeing them makes me mad as fuck.

Tiger moves in his sleep, his other hand stretches out like—

His eyes snap open, and he pushes himself up to lean on his elbows, looking around furiously before he sees me standing at the end of the bed. A long exhale escapes from his mouth. "Where are you going?" His voice is even raspier than usual from sleep.

"To make coffee," I say, keeping my own tone normal. "Do you want breakfast?"

Tiger rolls to his back and puts his hands behind his head, and the way his biceps bulge from the move makes me swallow. It takes all of my self-restraint not to look down at his body because damn, he is unbelievably gorgeous. Right now, I wish he would use the sheets so I wouldn't be so tempted to fuck up our lives for good.

His beaming smile reaches his eyes when he looks at me. "Yeah, but I'm not getting out of bed yet."

"Then stay there." I shrug, tearing my eyes off him and turning to the door. "But for the love of God, put your clothes on, will you?"

I hear his amused chuckle behind me. "Negative."

Truthfully. Did I even expect anything different? Tiger is clearly back to the push and pull combat between us, and he is playing dirty. Again, did I expect anything different?

But I'm not ready to push him away yet. My mind is way too light right now. It's the calm before the storm. I know myself by now; I've been having these same problems all my life. The desperate need for normalcy and then drowning in guilt. I tried therapy, under wraps. No one knew I went there, but then I realized after a couple of sessions that I'm putting my family in danger by talking about my problems, which were linked to my family, to a stranger. I never stepped inside those doors again, and I hated myself for it, but… the therapist never walked out.

I had yet again hurt someone else by thinking only of myself.

She had to die because I was an idiot and didn't think it through.

Waiting for the storm to rise, I make coffee and pour Frosted Flakes into two bowls. Doing something so ordinary and familiar is honey for my soul, like everything is excellent in the world. After a quick visit to the bathroom, still looking like shit, I make my way back to the bedroom with a tray in my hands.

Tiger is leaning on the end of the bed and scrolling through channels while I place the tray on my nightstand. He stops at Ducktales and puts the remote away when I hand him coffee and cereal.

"Thanks." He takes a gulp before placing the steaming cup on the nightstand at his side. His eyes travel over my face as I climb onto the bed and sit next to him, adjusting myself under the covers. Which he had actually, to my surprise, pulled up to his waist. I'm impressed by his decency. "You really should take painkillers. That looks painful."

"I already did," I retort truthfully, scooping the cereal into my mouth while watching the TV. "It's not as bad as it looks."

It fucking is, but I'm not telling him that. I'm not that weak. The cereal tastes amazing as always, and no need to mention that sugar is my weakness. I could live on cereal alone.

Tiger's fingers brush my cheek, and I catch my breath. From surprise and… his touch. I glance at him, but the look on his face locks me in place, and I can't look away. His knuckles slide gently down from my temple to my jaw, over the bruises and cuts on it.

And I'm fucking breathless.

"I hate to see you hurt like this." His voice choked with emotion, the hardness of his jaw emphasizing the statement. But I'm not ready for such seriousness. I'm not prepared for this conversation, not when the storm is building inside me, simmering in my veins like poison. So, I'm not going to go there with him, not now.

I let out a snort of laughter and swallow the cereal down. "Yeah, sure you do."

"Fuck you, Cobra. You know I mean it," he snaps back. Looks like I'm not getting out of this.

Chewing the cereal, I look at him. Really look at him. The precise shape of his dark brown brows, the flaw on the right one because there is a faded scar in the middle of it, making it imperfectly perfect. His nose, which looks like God had measured every inch of his face to make it fit there just right, but now, after years of violence, there is a little crook on the bridge of it. Tiger, too, has broken his nose more than once. The fine line of his jaw now has stubble on it, and it's set like stone. I meet his dark eyes, which are narrowed as he looks at me.

"Are you angry with me?" I ask, reading his face.

"Fuck, yes, I'm angry. Why didn't you just come to me?" Tiger starts with a spike in his voice, but it ends up being more like a plea.

Feels like the cereal is trying to crawl its way back up my throat as distress takes over my thoughts and makes my body itch. I turn to look at my bowl and play with the spoon.

"We weren’t talking anymore." My voice comes out as a whisper because the memories are suffocating me. Now that he is here, by my side, I can breathe. Not right now, though, but...

"I hated it," he murmurs, and from the corner of my eye, I see that he’s playing with his cereal too. "I meant what I said." He turns to look at me with a grave expression on his face. "I can't stand that you got yourself hurt like that. And I also meant what I said yesterday."

My mind is buzzing, and I don't remember shit about what he said. "Huh?"

"You're mine. This thing." Tiger waves the spoon back and forth between us. "Between us is inevitable. You better start to accept it and find a solution with me, or I'll do it for the both of us."

My mouth literally drops open as I take in his words. I'm pissed off and turned on at the same time. Suddenly, I'm very aware that he is almost naked and we're in my bed. And... "Are you fucking threatening me?"

He dares to cock an eyebrow at me. "Dunno, am I?"

"You're one shitty friend, did you know that?" I glare at him, and I'm not sure if I am madder at him for threatening me or myself that I'm fucking turned on by it.

"You might have mentioned it a couple of times over the years." He smirks, and before I can even blink, his hand is on my throat and his lips land on mine. The gesture itself is rough, but the kiss is anything but. It's totally different from the last ones we accidentally ended up sharing.

I can't help but be surprised by the gentleness of it, and I realize that I'm actually answering it. Tiger's tongue sweeps into my mouth, making shivers run down my spine, and I feel even my toes curling from the satisfaction. My body tingles like I've stepped into a hot shower after spending hours in the cold.

I shouldn't let this happen.

But he just makes me feel so damn good.

He devours me tenderly, in a way I didn't see coming from him, and I'm fucking consumed by it. I want him to show me all the ways he can love me; I want it gentle, and I want it hard.

The kiss leaves me gasping when he pulls back and lets go of my throat to slide his hand to my cheek. He runs his thumb over my lower lip, eyes trailing the move. "You don't want to say no to me."

Fuck me sideways, I'm going to Hell for this, but he's right, I don't.

I stare at him, breathless, as he pushes his thumb into my mouth and slides it out to play with my lips again. I feel like I'm burning from the inside out, and the heatwave in my pants is killing me.

"I can't wait to feel these lips around my dick, baby girl," he says, still watching as he plays with my mouth. I swallow so hard that it sounds like I gulped down a watermelon, and I think I came a little from his words.

A sinful smirk spreads to his face. "And when I come in this pretty mouth of yours, you will swallow every drop, am I right?" Tiger lifts his eyes to mine, and I seriously don't know if he expects me to answer.

His thumb is still in my mouth, and the way he turned the heat up makes me unable to speak. Snoop Dogg's “Drop It Like It's Hot” starts to play in my head, and I know that right now... things might actually end up with his dick in my mouth.

This escalated fast.

"I've always wondered if you are the kind of girl who likes to give head, but I think that whether or not you were that before." He pulls his thumb out with a plop and slides it across my lower lip. "You're craving my dick right now."

"I..." I let out a breath I was holding and gather myself, pushing his hand away from me. "You're not letting me off easy, are you?"

Tiger gives me a wide smile, smug as fuck. "Nope," he scoops Frosted Flakes in his mouth and talks while chewing it down, and the annoying thing is that he can do it cutely, not smacking like some dudes. "You sealed this yourself when you said that you love me. I'm not backing down anymore."

"I'll take it back," I retort, taking a spoonful of cereal.

"You can't take it back." He bumps my shoulder with his and winks at me. "Besides, I made you dick-thirsty, so you'll be on your knees for me in no time."

He might be onto something with that, but it's not like I'm admitting it to him. Instead, I give him a blank look. "Do you always speak to girls like this?"

"Why do you wanna know?"

I shrug, turning to look at the cartoon, trying to act like I don't care. "Just wondering."

"Jealous that someone might suck my dick before you do?" he snickers and scoops more Frosted Flakes. My blood boils again, but not because I'm horny.

Because he thinks he's allowed to fuck other chicks while he is trying to get me.

"Nah, why be jealous, it's not like we're together." My tone comes out chillier than I expected, and Tiger catches it instantly. He leans to me, but I keep my face forward and hide my frown by watching TV.

"You're jealous." He nuzzles the spot behind my ear and plants a tiny kiss there, and fuck me for not dodging him. It just feels so nice. "Don't be moody, baby, I won’t fuck anyone if you ask me not to."

We are not going to be a thing.

We are not going to be a thing.

We are not EVER going to be a thing.

"I don't care. Fuck whoever you wanna fuck," I say, lying through my teeth.

"Is that so?" He challenges me, but I've decided to stand my ground.

"Yeah."

"So, you wouldn't be bothered in the least if I bring some chick home and fuck her against this wall while you're sleeping here?"

I feel his eyes on me, and I try to keep myself calm.

Don't take the bait.

Don't take the bait.

But I fail and turn my blazing eyes to him. "Yeah, I would. Just like it would bother you if I bring Luke here and fuck him on this bed."