I don't stop massaging though my eyes are on her face. I wish I could get my hands on the woman who dared to make her feel so small. I wish I'd been there beside her to assure her she's always been the most beautiful woman.
"Stupid, I know, but I listened because Dad loved Ivette and I wanted him to love me too. But those dance classes ended at nine at night. Every Wednesday and Friday when I went to those classes, I'd get home late and no one would wait to eat with me. Again, stupid, I know, but it was such a small gesture anyone could've done. Just sit with me at the table while I ate a sandwich or something microwaved, just so I wouldn't be alone. Just so I wouldn't feel like a guest in my own home. But I understood then that I didn't deserve even that much. No matter how hard I tried to shine, no matter how hard I tried to be perfect, in the end, I didn't even deserve for them to spend a few minutes in my presence."
Her voice breaks at the end and I pull her into my arms. I want to cut down every person who left her alone. Every person who didn't see her slowly extinguishing in the absence of affection.
"I'll be home every night so we can have dinner together," I tell her, and I know she doesn't miss the fury in my voice, but she knows it's not directed at her, it's directed at myself.
Her head lifts from my chest, and with wet eyes and a shy smile, she asks, "Promise?"
"I promise,slonko. For the rest of our lives."
Chapter 24
Roxy
Something heavy rests against my back. I blink myself awake, only to find a tattooed arm curled protectively around me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, memories flooding back of those hands touching my body last night while the man behind me had his mouth making me see stars.
I should've kicked him out of bed, but my body staged a mutiny and decided to take full advantage of my future husband, who seemed hell-bent on delivering every orgasm I was owed. And since I believe my body deserves a little indulgence, I gave in.
But it's not just my body that's starting to surrender. My heart is too.Would it really be so terrible if I let myself believe everything this man says?
"Your thoughts are too damn loud," the source of my emotional debate grumbles.
I turn toward him, not missing the fact that I don't push him away. Instead, I rest my hands on his chest, and his grip automatically tightens around me.
"I was thinking about how you manipulated me last night," I say, and before I can stop myself, I close my eyes and inhale against his neck.
Why the hell does he smell like leather, amber, and musk? And why do I want to press my lips where his pulse beats, just to see if he tastes the same?
A growl rumbles through him, and I open my eyes.
"Again, your thoughts are too loud, Roxanne."
"Don't be ridiculous. You have no idea what I was just thinking," I tell him, though my slightly breathless tone gives me away.
To avoid jumping him myself, I scramble out of bed even though it takes effort to break free from his embrace.
Damien flexes his arms behind his head, watching me.
“My sex drive peaks in the morning, baby. Your loss.”
My mouth falls open slightly, and I swallow hard without meaning to.
"Oh, I don't doubt it," I mutter before shutting the bathroom door behind me.
My eyes land on the mirror, and I can't help but grimace. My eyes are puffy, I have pillow creases on my left cheek, and my hair looks like a bird's nest.
Not to mention I look slightly worn out.
How could a man like him find you attractive? Especially when you look this haggard? How many times do you think he'll accept being pushed away before he says to hell with it and runs to someone else? You really think he doesn't have a whole lineup waiting for him at that club? Your hair's dull, and you ate too much again and it shows on your hips, Roxy.
I press my palms to my temples, willing Ivette’s voice to stop echoing in my head.
"Shut up. Please," I whisper.
After a few moments, my mind clears enough for me to go through my morning routine.
