“Fine. I’ll admit that was the best sex of my life, if you admit the same.”
He brought his mouth to mine for a deep, slow kiss that had me forgetting my name.
“No one can compete with you, Lydia. No one ever has.”
I lay on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart with a stupid grin on my face. Who would have thought that life would come full circle, and I would be here again, another chance to make Sebastian Devereux mine? I certainly couldn’t have predicted it. But right now, warm and safe, sated and relaxed, I couldn’t say I minded that idea one bit.
20
Lydia
Twelve Months Ago
The smell of bleach overpowered the scent of the candle burning on the counter. I’d spent all day cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. My hands were dry and itchy from the myriad of cleaning products I’d used.
Blake had complained that the apartment was always a mess, and he wasn’t wrong. My work kept me busy, often ten-plus-hour days. After work, I had to run errands, like picking up groceries, then using those groceries to make dinner (one that he often complained about), do the dishes, and then get right back into work mode. Trying to secure pieces for clients and working with up-and-coming artists never seemed to stop. Artists were notorious for not working on a 9-to-5 schedule, so neither did I.
The door opened, and Blake strolled in. He dropped his briefcase at the front door, kicking his shoes off into the middle of the small hallway in front of the door, our bedroomon the left and the living room to the right.
“Hey, how was your day?” I smiled at him distractedly as I scrubbed the carpet with cleaner, trying to get out the stain from when he’d knocked over his whiskey glass last night.
“It smells like shit in here.”
Great. It was going to be one of those nights. I could already tell he was in a bad mood.
“I know. I have a candle going on the counter, but I don’t think it’s strong enough. Hopefully, the apartment airs out quickly,” I said. The May weather was pleasant even into the evenings, which meant leaving the windows open was a no-brainer.
He went to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living area and sniffed before blowing out the candle. “That makes it worse. Why the fuck didn’t you get this done earlier so I don’t have to come home to this?”
I sat back on my haunches to glare at him. “I’ve been cleaning all day.”
His head swiveled around the room, a sneer on his lips.
“If you didn’t let it get so disgusting in here, it wouldn’t take you all day to clean it. Don’t let that happen again. I don’t want to live in a pigsty.” He turned into the kitchen, stopping short. I had spent probably half of my day in that one room alone. The stovetop and oven were scrubbed clean, the refrigerator emptied of expired items and organized, the counters sanitized, all of the clutter put in its right spot. I even pulled the appliances away from the wall, cleaning the floor beneath them while I was mopping. A shot of pride surged at how good it looked in there, right before Blake turned to glare at me, his dilated pupils and bloodshot eyes giving him a menacing look. “What did you make for dinner?”
“I’ve been a little busy, Blake. I was hoping we could eat out tonight.” I turned back to my task, scrubbing the stain on the carpet with even more force than before. “A little appreciation wouldn’t hurt,” I mumbled under my breath.
Apparently, I wasn’t quiet enough though.
Pain radiated through my scalp in an instant. Blake wrapped my hair around his fist, dragging my head back with force.
“What the fuck did you just say? You want me to appreciate that you live like a disgusting pig? That this place smells like a public pool? That I’ve worked all day while you’ve been at home, and you couldn’t even be bothered to make me dinner?” His tirade was punctuated by pulling my head back by my hair.
Fear weighed me down like lead. Tears came to my eyes as I tried to move closer to him, giving my hair slack instead of pulling it tauter. “Ow. Blake. Blake, stop. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” I cried.
“You did mean it,” Blake sneered. He yanked my head all the way back, my skull screaming in pain, and spit in my face. “You’re a filthy, useless cunt.” He shoved my head forward, forcing me to fall face-first into the carpet-cleaning solution. “I’m going to Anthony’s,” he said, referencing a friend of his that always gave me the creeps. “Get this smell out of my place. And Lydia, if dinner isn’t ready when I get back…” He trailed off.
I took my first real breath as soon as the door closed behind him. Bile clawed at my throat as adrenaline raced through me, but I swallowed it back. Gently messaging my head, I pulled my hand away, a clump of silvery strands in my palm that he had ripped out. Tears fell as I gathered my shakinglimbs to stand.You don’t have the time to break down, I told myself. Dinner wasn’t going to make itself, and I didn’t know how long I had before he would be back. Best to get it done now, just in case.
* * *
Present Day
Waking up in Seb’s bed, with his hard body beneath me, could easily become addictive. I pulled in a deep breath, taking in the scent of his skin like he was a newborn baby—just huffing it into my bloodstream and letting the pheromones do their job.
Black ink wound its way up his chest and around his shoulders and torso, my fingers following just one of the many trails as I lay on his pecs.
“I can’t feel my arm.” Seb’s sleepy, rough voice cut through the quiet of the spring morning. Sunlight filtered in through the dark curtains, birds were chirping, a breeze rustled at the window, a satisfying ache between my thighs.
