Page 142 of Operation: Defiance

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Anytime.” Somehow that feels like a promise.

This is a man whose actions never belie his words.

My pulse kicks up a dozen notches.

My palms go damp.

He sets the brush on the bathroom counter and starts for the hall.

“Asher. Wait.” My voice catches on the shape of what I want. “Can we…try something?”

He stops. Nods.

“If I was ready…would you touch me? On purpose? Only how I say. For how long I say. Like…exposure therapy.”

He meets my eyes with a focus that lands deep. “Yes.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Raine

This can’t happen in the bedroom. We both know it.

Asher leads me out to the main room and takes a seat on the couch. He watches me, his gaze scanning from my softly curling waves down to the new shoes. Everything is exactly what I would have chosen. Exactly what my body can tolerate right now.

My pulse is steady, but my hands haven’t gotten the memo.

I sit. The fabric of the new leggings is soft against my skin, a thin shield between my nerves and the memory of cold concrete. I press my toes against the soles of the shoes, grounding myself further.

“Rules,” I say. “You touch me. But only when and where I say. If I say stop⁠—”

“I’ll stop.

I almost smile. “I know you will. But that’s—I mean— New rule. If I stay stop, you stop moving. If I say I’m done, you pull away.”

“Okay,” he says with a smile. “How do you want to start?”

That word—want—twists in my chest.

I rest my hand on the cushion between us, palm up. “Like this.”

Warmth meets me first. Then the weight of him—present, deliberate, no pressure, just the lightest resting of his hand on mine. My throat tightens. Not with fear, but with the shock of choosing something and having it answered gently.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs.

I nod without looking up. “A few more seconds…”

He doesn’t count. He doesn’t move. His stillness is safe. Appreciated.

When my pulse evens out, I nod, then slide my palm out from under his. “Okay. That was…good. Now…same pressure, but on my upper back. Between my shoulder blades.”

“Raine…”

“There’s no way to avoid the bruises there. I know.”

My heart is already pounding so hard, I worry it’s going to punch a hole in my chest. But this is the real test. The one that will tell me how broken I still am.