Chapter 28
Sophie snuggled into me, her hair fanning around her as she laid her head on my chest. I held on to her as if fearing she’d somehow vanish.
An overwhelming sense of possessiveness rattled me, but I didn’t want to give the feeling too much recognition because I couldn’t act on it.
I’d scare her away if I did, especially after everything she’d been through with her soon-to-be ex-husband.
Granted, I didn’t know any of the details of their relationship except that he was an asshole and that she was frightened of him. But wasn’t that enough?
She trailed her fingertip over my collarbone, her soft touch making my eyelids heavy. After three orgasms, I was ready for sleep, especially since my training started in less than five hours. I’d be hurting in the ring, but each second spent with this woman was worth every ounce of drained energy.
“Careful, sweetheart.” I half laughed when she moved her leg between mine. “Watch the boys.”
“Sorry.” She tilted her head to look at me. “Don’t want to hurt them.”
“Please don’t.” What I was really asking was for her not to hurt me, but of course, I didn’t clarify. That scope of vulnerability was foreign to me.
As I studied her beautiful features, her attention veered toward my mouth. She traced my bottom lip and asked, “Do you like to kiss?”
“I like to kiss you,” I quickly replied, baring my teeth and gently nipping her finger. The rumble of her laughter was a balm to my soul. Sophie was unexpectedly softening me, and I couldn’t determine yet if that was a good or bad thing.
“My ex didn’t like to,” she confessed, scrunching her face afterward as if she’d said something wrong.
I didn’t want to hear about her kissing another man, but I didn’t want to discourage the conversation either.
I never wanted her to feel like she couldn’t tell me things, intimate details about her life.
Now, if she broached the subject of sex with that jackass, that topic I might have to shut down.
“He missed out, then.” I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers but didn’t deepen the kiss, wanting to preserve the tenderness of this moment.
“Did you kiss the women who—”
“No,” I immediately answered, never allowing her to finish her question. “Those women were strictly for sex.”
Bye-bye tender moment.
“Right.” She huffed, shifting her weight to move away from me. “How lucky of them.” The anger in her voice was undeniable, and I mentally kicked myself for uttering something so careless.
I grabbed on to her and pulled her closer. “Sorry, that was stupid of me to say.”
“I get it. You have a past. It just hits differently now that I’m in your bed.” She propped herself up on her elbow and stared at me, her teeth working overtime on her bottom lip, looking like she had more to say.
“Did you want to ask me something?”
She hesitated a moment. “Why haven’t any of them come by recently?”
“No need.”
“Why?” she pressed.
I mentally committed every facet of her to memory before answering. From her light blue eyes to the cluster of freckles by her cheekbones to the tiny scar near the edge of her eyebrow.
“Because you’ve stolen all my attention. Don’t you know that by now?”
“Oh.” The muscles of her throat constricted on a swallow. “What happens when you’re done with me? I don’t know if I can handle seeing women come and go like before.”
“You won’t have to.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “Because you’d fire me?”
“No.” I shook my head, about to laugh at her ridiculous question, but judging by her frown, she was a thousand percent serious. “I meant there will be no other women. Just you.”
I wanted to give life to every sporadic thought that popped into my head, but I held back, keeping my answer short and simple. An overload of random information would only serve to confuse us both.
Silence bloomed between us, but I didn’t want to be the one to break it. Her slight facial movements indicated she had something on her mind, and I wanted to give her the time she needed to either work through whatever she was thinking or express whatever it was that plagued her.
Finally, she parted her lips. “So, are you saying that we’re exclusive?
” Her eyes widened, and she gasped as she rushed to say, “Not like that. Just like… are we only… are we only sleeping with each other? No one else?” She stammered over her words, and if not for the subject matter, I’d find her nervousness adorable.
“Is there someone else you want to sleep with?” I asked, picturing Lance even though she told me she had no interest in him. I couldn’t explain my irritation other than to admit that the possessive side I warned her about was starting to emerge.
“Of course not.”
“Good.” My erratic heartbeat started to slow. “Then we agree the only person who gets to touch you is me.”
“Yes. And vice versa.”
I nodded.
“Now that that’s settled, can I ask you where you got that scar from?” She reached up to trace the rigid line that ran from the outer corner of my left eye to the top of my ear, but I grabbed her hand before she touched me.
“I got that when I was a kid,” I said, a tightness forming in my chest. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay. How about your family, then? Are you close to them?”
A lump formed in my throat because this was the last thing I wanted to talk about. “My mom died when I was a teenager.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Unfortunately, that’s something we have in common. My mom passed away when I was only seven. I don’t remember much about her, which makes me sad sometimes.” The far-off look in her eyes tugged at my heart. “What was your mom like?”
Her question was innocent, but a fusion of grief, anger, and regret weaved itself into the deepest parts of me.
I recalled an image of my beautiful mother.
We shared the same dark strands and brown eyes.
“My mom, Kathy, was great. She was a quiet person but very loving and funny. She had the best laugh. And she always smelled like fresh-baked cookies, but that was probably because she made them every other day.” This was the first time in years I allowed myself to think of her, and for as painful as this was, my heart swelled with something similar to relief.
“I’m jealous you have so many memories of her.”
“Don’t be.” I flashed a tight grin to mask the dip in my voice.
“What about the rest of your family?”
“I don’t have any.” I could’ve clarified, but I wasn’t in the right headspace to do so right now.
Her eyes dropped from mine, and I wondered if she sensed my unease. “Can I ask about the small bump in your nose?”
“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?”
“I’m trying to get to know you better.”
“What do you want to know about my nose?” I asked, thankful she switched topics.
“I’m assuming you broke it?”
“A few times,” I answered, tracing the bridge of my nose. “Hazard of my profession.” She continued to stare at it, and for the first time in a long time, I became a bit self-conscious. “Do you not like my nose?”
“It’s nothing like that. Oddly enough, the bump adds to your appeal.”
“Is that right?” I asked, rolling her onto her back. She laughed and squirmed beneath me. “Then by all means, let me use my appeal to my advantage.”
“I would love to, but…” she said, glancing at the bedside clock, “we have to be downstairs in four and a half hours. I don’t want to be the reason you’re dragging during training.”
“You’re right. We should get some sleep.” Sophie sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Where are you going?” I asked, reaching for her.
“Back to my place.”
“Care to tell me why?”
“Because that’s where I live,” she responded, bewilderment riding each word.
I patted the mattress she’d abandoned. “I’d prefer it if you stayed. Unless you don’t want to.”
“No, I’ll stay.” She snuggled under the covers and placed her head back on my chest.
“Did I pass the test?” I asked, wrapping my arm around her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her teasing tone gave me my answer.