Beautifully Cruel

Chapter 28

"Don't be smug. It's unflattering."

He exhales slowly. I feel some of the tension leave his body, but my curiosity is such that I risk him getting worked up again. "Who were you talking to?"

There's a long, tense pause. "My brother." Another pause. "There's a...business situation...that's causing some problems."

He told me the less I know the better, but I can't resist pushing a little bit more. "Is your whole family in business together?"

"No. We're the only two left."

Left? I whisper, "Left as in working together?"

"Left as in alive."

My heart clenches to a fist. "Your parents, too?"

His sigh is heavy. "Aye."

He told me he was one of eight children. Including his parents, that's ten in his family. But now there are only two? How is that possible?

"Tae, I'm so sorry." I hesitate. "Was there an accident?"

His voice comes very low. "A fire."

I think of the scars on his back, and how he agreed when I told him digging in graveyards was dangerous, and want to throw up. "Oh god."

"Go to sleep."

He doesn't want to talk about it. I get it, but if he thinks I could sleep now, he's crazy.

I lie awake long after he falls asleep, lost in thought as I listen to him breathe in the dark.

In the morning, he's preoccupied. I don't ask if he slept well, because I know he didn't. He tossed and turned while I stared at the ceiling and wondered.

And speculated.

And brooded about Julia and the eighteen years.

"It won't bring them back," he shouted into the phone. I can't stop thinking about it, or of the fire that wiped out almost his entire family. The man has so many mysteries, I can't keep them all straight.

We have sex in the shower before he leaves, then again as soon as he walks in the door that night. He doesn't even remove his clothing that time, he simply walks into the library, kisses me passionately, then pushes me face down onto the table on top of my open books. He lifts my skirt and yanks down my panties, then fucks me from behind, one hand on my hip and the other gripped around the back of my neck, holding me down.

It's animalistic.

I love it.

After, he feeds me steak and mashed potatoes by hand. One forkful at a time as I sit on the edge of the island in the kitchen and he stands between my legs, watching with avid eyes as my lips close around the tines of the fork with every bite.

Stripped from the waist up, he's sexy as hell, all those bulging muscles and tattoos burning my eyes.

I'm wearing one of his white dress shirts and nothing else. Every so often, he fondles my breasts or hips, leaning in to kiss my neck and breathe me in. I'm pretty sure we're about to have sex on the kitchen island, too, but we're interrupted by the sound of my cell phone ringing. It's plugged into a recharger on the counter across from us.

Taehyung crosses to it and looks at the screen. Without a word, he unplugs the phone and hands it to me.

The screen reads, "#1 Dolly Fan."

Dear god. It's my mother.

When I glance up at Taehyung, he's smirking.

He pulls out one of the stools tucked into the overhang of the island, settles his bulk onto it, props his elbows on the countertop, and rests his chin on his folded hands, making it clear he's eager to listen in on the conversation.