Holsten holds me close, lips grazing the top of my head. We’re both breathless and sticky, limbs tangled after round three. Or is it four?
He’s the first person I’ve slept with since Axel, and aside from one bad moment the first time, it’s been good. Better than I everthought it could be.
Talking about sex in therapy still makes me want to vanish into the wallpaper, but Dr. Grant’s proud. I figured out my triggers. Faced them.
The only thing that still trips me up is missionary. Specifically, when I can’t see his face. That was Joe’s move. That’s how he broke me. So now, I need to see who’s inside me. Need to know it’s not him.
After that first scare, I told Holsten the truth. Not everything, but enough. He took it better than I expected. He still does.
But outside the bedroom… things are harder. He’s sweet and thoughtful, but the spark doesn’t go deeper than skin. I’ve accepted we’re good for now, but not forever. Eventually, one of us will end it, but until then, it’s fun, and fun’s not something I take for granted.
“Fuck, Lina,” he breathes. “You’re incredible.” His fingers tangle in my hair.
“Right back at you,” I murmur, pressing a lazy kiss to his chest.
“Hey. Look at me.”
I glance up. His blue eyes have gone stormy-gray with an intensity that surprises me. He looks serious.
“I love you, Lina.”
The world stills. Everything stops.
Well. Shit.
There goes my perfectly uncomplicated sex life.
Chapter 9
Aro
Marcus is acting weird.
And when Marcus gets weird, bad things happen.
I’m sitting beside him in the back seat of one of his SUVs, trying not to show how tightly my nerves are wound. On the surface, he looks calm, but his hand is clamped around my knee with enough pressure to bruise. I don’t dare say anything. I’ve learned better.
He wouldn’t tell me where we’re going. Just said it was a surprise. I fucking hate surprises, and he knows it. Especially Marcus’s, because they usually end with me naked, on all fours, pretending it was my idea. The only thing keeping me from spiraling is Sean, who sits quietly in the front passenger seat. Whatever this is, at least I know I won’t die. Probably.
We slow to a stop in front of a pristine, white church with stained glass windows glowing under the parking lot lights. I frown. Marcus and God have nothing in common, which makes this even more unsettling.
“We’re going to church?” I ask, carefully.
“Sort of.” He’s practically glowing now. “Come on... it’s your surprise.”
He climbs out of the car with more energy than he’s had all week. Great. Now he’s excited. I swear the man is bipolar.
Reluctantly, I open the door and step out. Sean is already there, shutting it behind me like always. He leans in, voice low enough to be lost to the dark.
“I don’t like this.”
“You and me both,” I murmur.
It’s a Saturday night, and the parking lot is deserted save for our SUV and the second one behind us full of Marcus’s guys. This whole thing smells suspicious. We trade a look, Sean’s eyes sharp with concern, mine probably begging without meaning to, but there’s nothing we can do. Marcus is already moving toward the doors, and what Marcus wants, Marcus gets.
I let him take my hand, even as my stomach clenches. His palm is damp. Marcus doesn’t sweat. Not ever.
He leads me up the steps like this is some fairytale date and not a setup. I glance back at Sean, still frozen by the car, his eyes locked on Marcus like he’s calculating how fast he’d need to move if things went south.
