Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“When it happened…” My throat tightens as my voice shatters the dark silence. “I didn’t want the press to find out for reasons I don’t want to talk about tonight.” The shame is more than I can bear. “I had my choice of surgeons. I could’ve gone to one that would’ve repaired the damage and prevented scarring. Hell, I can go under the knife now and get them removed. But I chose the surgeon I trusted most. The one who would never sell me out. Unfortunately, he doesn’t specialize in cosmetic or plastic surgery.”
“I wish you didn’t hide them. Instead of walking the red carpet in those obnoxious designer gowns, you should wear your scars like precious gems. Now that would be stunning.”
“The court of public opinion wouldn’t agree.” I stretch my fingers across his hard stomach and trace the dents and bumps of his abs. “It would ruin my career.”
“Fuck them. Your body tells a story—an honest one full of trauma and bravery and survival. A story you’re going to share with me tomorrow, even if I have to spank it out of you. Actually, I’m looking forward to reddening your ass.”
“Spanking is a hard limit.” My pulse quickens, despite the unbidden grin that twitches my cheeks.
“I feel your smile.” He brushes my hair behind my ear and touches the corner of my mouth. “Tell me where you feel it.”
“What do you mean?”
He kisses the top of my head. “When you smile, do you feel it in your cheeks? Your veins? Your pussy? Where do you feel happy?”
“I feel it here.” I clasp his hand and place it over my heart.
“That’s right.” He shifts closer, scooting down to eye-level with his body facing mine. “All of this…” He sweeps a hand down my back. “And this.” His finger taps my smile. “And this.” He cups me between the legs, over my panties. “It’s all an illustration of what’s going on here.” His hand returns to my chest. “Sometimes all you need is a shift in perspective, and everything on the outside will change with it.”
“Wow.” I brush my fingers through his hair, lost in his words and the glow of his eyes in the dark. “When did you become so philosophical?”
“When I found out my best friend is a pedophile.” He touches his forehead to mine. “Bad shit happens to everyone. We all hurt. We all struggle. But only the strong will heal. Those who have support and patience and indomitable spirit. When you heal, Laynee, you’ll wear your scars with pride.”
CHAPTER 15
LAYNEE
I wake to a warm, delicious pressure stroking between my legs. Languid and groggy, I open my thighs and arch into the blissful sensation. I love when he rouses me from sleep with his lips, his fingers, and his hard cock. He must’ve been touching me for a while, because I’m already primed, trembling, feverish, and wet.
“Trey,” I moan.
The caress vanishes, and mattress bounces beside me.
“What did you say?”
That voice.
My heart stops, and my eyes flash open. The dark shadow sitting up on the bed is too big to be Trey. The voice is too deep and calm.
I yank the sheet up my body and try to clear my head. I’m in Savannah, not L.A. I’m with a man who’s never hurt me. This isn’t a dream that ends in a nightmare. At least, I hope not. I hope I didn’t just screw everything up.
Falling asleep in Decker’s arms last night was a momentous step for me. I hadn’t done that with anyone in years. Not even with Blake. Not since Trey. Trey’s the only lover I ever truly trusted. Is that why I was thinking about him?
“I’m sorry.” I reach for Decker’s rigid shoulder.
He catches my wrist and holds it in the coil of heat between us. “Who the fuck is Trey? Another ex-husband?”
My chest squeezes. “You said no questions.”
He roughly releases my arm and shoves off the bed.
“Where are you going?” I lift to my knees, panicky and aroused and burning up with shame.
“I’m going to take care of this.” He flips on the bathroom light, turns sideways in the doorway, and gestures at his groin.
The glow behind his silhouette throws his profile into stark relief, cutting a long hard outline around the erection tenting his briefs.
“Come back. Please.” Every nerve-ending in my body fires to life, energizing me with courage. “I want to watch you.”
He stares at me from across the dark room, lowers his hand, and begins to stroke the huge swell in his briefs. “You know what I want?”
“What?” My whisper sounds like a croak.
“I want to know who Trey is. Tell me that, and I’ll let you watch.”
My hands fist in the bedding. I force my fingers to relax and my lips to move. “He’s the one I was with before Blake.”