Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“I’m not saying it didn’t affect me too, Ella. I like you. I’ve always liked you. But I meant what I said. I don’t want a relationship. With anyone. It’s not you—”
“It’s not you, it’s me? Oh please.” I threw my hands up. “That line is the worst excuse ever.”
“It’s the truth.”
Exhaustion slithered through my veins, siphoning away my fight.
Hunter’s words rang in my ears. He’d said I’d have to break Nick if I wanted him. Maybe tomorrow I’d be up for the challenge, but right now...I just wanted to be alone. “I’m going to bed.” I brushed past him. “Goodnight.”
“Wait.”
I winced as his body heat enveloped mine, drenching me in electrical currents and oversensitivity. With a quick inhale as if fortifying himself, he curled his fingers around my wrist and tugged me toward the corridor. “Come.”
I tripped behind him, shocked stupid he’d touched me willingly.
I thought...
What...what does this mean?
“Nick, what are you doing?”
He didn’t reply as he dragged me into the white and grey bathroom and trapped us inside together. My moisturiser still sat on the vanity from when I’d had a quick shower before running to the big top. My towel haphazardly tossed on the ratan hamper after I’d spritzed myself with honeysuckle perfume.
With shaking hands, he turned me around and fumbled with my zipper.
I caught my reflection.
Holy crap, is that what I look like?
My hair looked like Medusa’s snakes. My mascara and eyeliner smudged into one sultry smoky mess. My lips were swollen and red with the faintest cut from Hunter’s teeth. My cheeks held stubble burn from the two men who’d fucked me and my gaze...it churned with emotions. Emotions far too complex to solve in one night. Love and awe and thankfulness existed but so did fear and guilt and terror.
Terror that the man currently undressing me was going to pulverise my heart.
“Nick...” I shook my head, cupping my breasts through my dress. “What are you doing? Go away and leave me alone.”
Dropping his head, he pressed his lips to my bare shoulder. “Not yet.”
“I thought you couldn’t wait to get away from me?”
“I won’t lie and say I’m fighting every instinct to shut down and go back to the way things were, but...I have a task that needs doing. A task I can’t ignore.”
“What task?” My temper sparked.
“Providing aftercare.”
I stiffened as he tugged my dress, doing his best to strip me. “I...I don’t need aftercare.”
He scowled, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Look at your back and tell me that.” Spinning me around, he glowered at the crisscrossing lines practically glowing on my skin. I looked over my shoulder and gasped. A few had turned a faint blue on the edges where bruises had already set in.
“I’m so sorry, Ella.”
I let my dress fall, my eyes growing wider at the full extent of what Nick had done to me. I hadn’t been aware. The pain had become a blanket of fire, so I couldn’t distinguish one stripe from another.
But this...? Seeing it painted into my skin like a violent work of art made fresh tears spring to my eyes. Not because he’d hurt me but because I wanted him to do it again and again and...he never will.
“Goddammit, don’t cry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I’ll never hit you again. You have my absolute word. I...I got carried away. I got...jealous. So fucking jealous that you let him kiss you, lick you...fuck you.” His voice turned pitch black. “Even now, even though we’ll never sleep together again, and I have no right to feel anything when it comes to you, I’m so unbelievably jealous that his dick has been inside you. That even now, his cum still marks you.”
I let my dress fall, shivering as it kissed my legs and died like fallen petals on the floor. “There’s nothing to be jealous of. Don’t you see? I like you, you idiot. I lov—”
“Don’t.” He smashed his hand over my mouth. “Don’t say another word.” Letting me go, he shrugged out of his blazer, ripped off his white t-shirt and jeans, then scooped me into his arms and carried me into the shower.
I gasped as he placed me down and turned on the water. Trapping me against the grey hexagonal tiles, ice rained down, followed by scalding heat.
“Nick...you don’t have to bathe me. I’m perfectly able to—”
“Quiet.” He pushed me under the spray, soaking my hair and every inch of my very used, very abused body. With the roar of water cascading around us and the heaviness of so many unspoken words, he grabbed my favourite coconut bodywash and squirted a generous amount into his hands.
He didn’t use the loofah and when his palms landed on my back, turning me away from him so he could wash away the pain he’d caused, I was infinitely glad.