“Can I just hold you, then?”
There was a long pause, Crew’s slowing cries the only sound. I was about to unravel myself from him, sure he would say no.
When he nodded against my chest, his cheek sticking to my skin, I sighed in relief and pulled him tighter against me.
Once again, I was riddled with questions and barely any answers when it came to Crew. For tonight, I’d hold him and be grateful that he wasn’t turning his back on me. But deep down, I secretly let myself hope that he’d tell me more someday.
Willow must’ve turnedthe heat on during the night. My body was a furnace, and my bed was heated enough to bake cookies. I could feel sweat in places that shouldn’t have been sweaty. She didn’t usually turn the heat up so high, though. We tried our best to save electricity in the dumbest ways possible, usually meaning we slept under five blankets while the house stayed chilled enough to see our breath.
I let out a low, confused groan as I rustled around. My head was pounding—a slow, thundering ache that reached behind my eyes.
As I woke up further, I realized not only did my head feel like I’d been dropped onto concrete, but my entire body hurt. There was a soreness in my stomach, a stabbing in my side, and a faint woodsy scent that tickled my nostrils.
That got me jolting up immediately, realizing it wasn’tmewho smelled like that.
“Oh, what the fuck,” I whisper-yelled, realizing I had just leaped from the confines of a naked Price.
Oh shit.
Oh,fuck.
Everything came rushing back to me in the worst way. Getting beat up on the sidewalk, Price defending me, taking me home…
I had been vulnerable.
What both haunted and perplexed me was that I hadn’t even fulfilled my duty. My sick, twisted need to listen to the voice that nagged at the back of my skull.
My arms, though sore, were clear of any harm. A flash of nausea roiled in my gut with a hint of guilt overpowering it. From the light through the windows, it didn’t seem very late in the day. I’d only just woken up, and I was already a mess in the head.
I fuckingknewPrice would break me. I knew it. Instead of fighting it or trying my best to ignore it, I had begged for it.
And, oh, how relieved I had felt. The way he handled me like I was the most precious human on Earth. Once I had asked for it, a dam released inside of me and everything had poured out.
Without a single slice of my skin, I had bled for Price. In turn, he washed me of any sin, debauchery, or evil I had carried. I had felt so free, it terrified me. Last night, I’d let go of almost a decade’s worth of control. I’d never been happier.
I had never been so scared.
I had never thought of an orgasm as beautiful until my skin felt his, and suddenly, I was ignited by a flame that made me question everything I thought about God.
Price was the apparent source of hellish heat. He lay on his back; his legs kicked in the weirdest position. His hair was darker from the sweat built up, strands sticking stubbornly to his forehead. His jaw was slack, his lips parted slightly as he slept. The beard he usually kept nicely groomed was starting to grow out, looking as unkempt as his hair. I could see the effort he put into making himself presentable every day if his obscene bedhead was anything to base it on.
While he was sleeping, he looked peaceful. The usual scowl we both shared on default was at ease. I could tell life had weathered him, though not as severely as me, in the way his eyes crinkled even when relaxed.
Price was a gorgeous man. Seeing him in my bed was as much of a shock as it was a relief. No one had stayed in my room before aside from Willow.
I had truly bared myself to him, and that scared me even more.
Like clockwork,hisvoice started to filter in through my mind. Obscenities I could never voice pounded against my head, and I was forever too weak to stop them. I could feel the burn on my skin, aching for the blade I kept hidden in my room. My blood thumped rapidly through my veins, begging to be let out.
I was weak against the man who ruled my brain. I knew I’d succumb to it eventually. Last night was only a detour, a Band-Aid that had started to bleed through.
But Price looked so comfortable, and I knew his skin felt as soft as itlooked. Although he radiated heat that surpassed the scorching Arkansas summers, I craved it.
Looking down at him, I realized I missed him. He was right there, and I missed him. The feel of him. The way he whispered in my ear, the soft touch he offered.
I had lived my life responding to the iciest touch of the darkest men, accepting that it was all I deserved. At the age of sixteen, I had long decided I was made of ice, born to skate along the arctic with nothing to shield my body. I took the punch of wind in the form of human hands, soaking myself in my own blood, understanding it would be the only warmth I’d deserved.
Price was a fire I had given up hope of finding. I didn’t deserve him, but, fuck, did I want him. Something in his heart called to mine. A kindred sadness that traversed with me through the ice lands.
