I look at my reflection, at the scar that runs down the center of my chest, a pale pink line marking where I was broken and rebuilt. At first, I thought it would be something ugly andsomething to hide, but now, I see it for what it really is: a map of survival, proof that I made it through.
My phone buzzes on the dresser, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance down to see Dallas’s name lighting up the screen.
Dallas
Are you freaking out yet? Be honest.
Me
Nope. Totally cool. Haven’t panicked once. Definitely haven’t been staring at myself in the mirror for the past twenty minutes contemplating faking my death to get out of this.
Dallas
That’s the spirit. God, I wish I was there. Stupid fiancé and wedding planning and deadlines.
I thought you liked wedding planning?
Dallas
I like wedding shopping. Not wedding budgeting or staring at a seating chart for hours. Different things, babe.
Fair.
Dallas
It’s going to be amazing. Send me real-time updates and pics.
I love you!
Love you, too, D!
I set my phone down, smiling, but the nerves creep back in almost immediately. As if he can sense it, Alex appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame like he has all the time in the world.
I turn to look at him and swear he just sucked the air straight from my lungs.
Fuck.
He’s in a perfectly tailored black suit, crisp white shirt, top button undone like he couldn’t be bothered. His hair is slightly tousled but the most tame I’ve ever seen. There is a devilish look in his eyes, a hunger. He looks devastating, and he knows it.
“Ready, baby?” His voice comes out rough and deep in the way that makes me fall to my knees for him.
“I think so.”
His gaze drags over me like he’s already thinking about getting me out of this dress, darkening as he pushes off the doorframe and crosses the room with easy confidence. “Jesus, Em,” he whispers, sliding a hand up my arm, fingers tracing the strap of my dress. “You’re—” He shakes his head, exhaling like he can’t come up with the right words.
“Fucking stunning.” He presses a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of my lips.
I tilt my chin up, teasing. “We’re gonna be late.”
“We’ve got a couple minutes.” His hands slide to my hips, lips ghosting over my jaw.
“Alex.” I moan and it is anything but a protest.
His fingers slip down, gripping the hem of my dress, and in one motion, he slides his hands underneath. I shiver as his palms glide over my thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft skin. “Tights?” he muses, enjoyment lacing his voice as he hooks his fingers into the sheer nylon.
I barely have time to react before I hear an unmistakable ripright at my center. “Alex!” I gasp, swatting at his arm. “These were brand new.”
“I’ll buy you ten more.” He announces against my skin, completely unrepentant. Heat pools in my stomach as his hands part my thighs, fingers tracing up the sensitive skin before sliding between them. He strokes over me, teasing, taking his time. My breath catches when his fingers slip beneath the fabric of my panties, parting me with slow, knowing movements.
