no lights on, and they pulled out in front of you. Trust me, I think something’s missing here, and I’m going to find out what it is.”
I turned my head to run my lips over the palm of his hand. “Thank you, Silas.”
I didn’t really want him to look into anything.
But I could tell by the determination in his eyes that he wasn’t going to let this one rest.
Besides, what could it hurt?
Silas finally plunged the room into darkness, and I closed my eyes in exhaustion.
Mostly because of the way I’d been so well and thoroughly used tonight, but also partially due to the fact that I can’t talk about the past, about what happened without feeling emotionally drained.
God, I hated reliving the past.
And, sadly, I did it every night in my dreams.
Just, hopefully, not this night.
Especially since I felt so safe in the arms that’d just gathered me close.
“Go to sleep,” he rumbled.
I pressed my lips to his hairy chest and kissed him softly before turning to rest my head on his bicep.
His fingers trailed through my hair, and my eyes started to droop.
Then, I was asleep.
My dreams haunted me still, but I had Silas and his badass self there to scare them away this night.
What I didn’t realize, though, was that I’d only given him even more fuel for the determination he felt to find out what exactly had happened.
Although I’d had no idea I did it, apparently I spoke during my nightmares.
***
I woke up to sunlight streaming through the windows.
I rolled around in the bed, startled when I hit the masculine body only inches into my roll.
“Mmmm,” I said, curling up into Silas’ chest.
He hugged me tightly, but just as suddenly, got up to leave.
“Where you going?” I asked around a yawn.
“Gotta go to the office. And you’ll have to come with me now, or I can come back for you at lunchtime,” he mumbled.
I shook my head and opened my eyes, mouth going dry when I saw his bare ass slipping into another pair of tighty whities.
I moaned in sadness, causing him to look over his shoulder and wink at me.
“What?” He asked.
God, he looked so good.
Not one single inch of his body wasn’t in perfect shape.
He had zero fat on him whatsoever.
That should be illegal.
I had fat, so he should have some, too.
“You look good,” I informed him.
He smiled. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, watching as he slipped jeans up his thick, well defined thighs.
He shook his head. “Fine. My brain wouldn’t turn off last night, so I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Is this because of what we talked about last night?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Yes and no. Or, at least, it started out about that. Then I couldn’t turn it off, and I started thinking about other things. But did you want to stay or for me to take you to your place?”
“What about my car?” I asked.
“I’ll have it brought to you by this afternoon.”
“I have to be at work at ten,” I said to him, reluctantly getting out of bed and walking naked to the shower.
He didn’t follow me, and I found myself greatly disappointed.
He seemed different today.
More distant.
Not at all like he was yesterday, or even this morning when we went to sleep in each other’s arms in the wee hours of the morning.
I took a long, hot shower, relishing the way the hot water felt over my skin.
I was sore.
My vagina felt like it’d been pounded with a fist.
Silas wasn’t a small man.
In fact, I would say he was on the bigger side of big.
Which explained why my vagina wanted to revolt when I pressed the bar of soap to it and slid it through my legs.
My nipples were just as sore, not because they’d been pounded, but because they’d been pinched.
Wearing a shirt today should prove interesting.
The lace bra that I’d worn last night was definitely not happening.
I’d just have to go home and put on a sports bra for the day.
Although I’d promised myself that I’d never wear one of those torture devices again since
Missy Tippens, Jean C. Gordon, Patricia Johns