Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh…
Suddenly I’m lifted in the air. Scout’s raspy voice is a low warning. “Don’t make a sound. Someone’s knocking on the door. I’m going to deal with it.”
He carries me into the bathroom, then he spins me around and sits me on the bathroom counter. The cold tile is shocking. Eyes flashing angrily, he shoves his condom-covered cock in his cargo pants and walks out of the bathroom, jerking the door closed after him.
I’m still breathing heavily when I look down and see my bound wrists.
My pants and panties are around my ankles. The deepest parts of my core are pulsing, I’m so wet, the cream from my pussy is all over my inner thighs.
For a few seconds I stare at my body in disbelief .
Who is this woman?
Not me. I never have wild, dangerous sex with strangers.
Okay, he’s not a stranger. But he’s wild.
And he’s definitely dangerous.
Yeah, this is real. Maybe a little too real.
The heavy glow of pleasure coursing through me suddenly spills out on one big exhale.
I lick my lips, and try to slow my breathing. But it’s too late. Something is happening.
Something bad. Tendrils of fear wrap around me like a giant sea creature.
Oh god, is this a flashback?
I’ve never had one. But my counselor warned me.
Pulse pounding in my ears, my lungs squeezing tight, I suddenly feel cold and hot, and queasy.
The room starts to shrink.
My throat dries. I rock back and forth.
God, no. Not now.
But the scars on my wrists are burning, throbbing below the fabric of my shirt. With my body shaking, I bite the knots Scout used to bind me, tugging them with my teeth.
When the door opens abruptly, I look up, but my vision is clouded by tears, my hearing fuzzed by the roar of emotion trapped inside my head.
“Oh, goddamn,” Scout says roughly.
“Red. Red…” Two words claw out of me.
His big hands wrap around my face. “I got you, Aria. I’m here. Shhh. It’s okay.”
“Un-un-untie me.” My teeth are chattering.
“Look at me.”
I blink furiously, trying to clear my vision. He brushes a kiss over my forehead as a rumble shakes his body. “I’m right here. I’m going to untie you. You’re safe.”
“Please, please just untie me.”
His hands are quick. Within seconds I’m free and he kisses both of my wrists. Carefully pressing his mouth to my skin. The softness of his touch makes my heart clench.
Then he picks me up and carries me to the bed. Using one hand, he whips the blanket back and he puts me down gently.
Then he climbs in, cocoons me with his body, cradles my head, wraps his legs around me. Scout uses all of him to pull me tight against his warm body. I’m totally surrounded by his strength. “I’m here. You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you.”
Something inside of me splits wide open. I can’t stop the dam from breaking. It makes me feel weak and vulnerable.
“Baby,” he whispers softly. “Cry it out. I’m strong enough to take it.”
“Oh god, Scout,” I breathe.
Stroking my back with his warm hand, he speaks quietly against my temple. “You’re safe.”
He says this over and over again until I’m cried out.
Every ounce, every tear, every terrible thing Adam did pours out of me. I’m limp, exhausted, and covered in sweat when I’m done.
Scout picks me up, carries me to the bathroom and takes us into the shower.
Holding my back to his chest, he undresses me. With careful, gentle touches, he washes me. His large fingers are surprisingly agile as he unbraids my hair to shampoo and condition it.
Some small part of my splintered mind notices the lovely coconut smell of products that were already in the shower.
I don’t even know where my things are. I’m too broken. Too numb to bother. I just let him take care of me.
“Finished,” he says in a husky whisper as he cuts off the water. “Let’s get you dry.”
A few seconds later, I’m wrapped in a gigantic, fluffy towel.
I’m being carried again, gently placed on the bed when I realize he’s still in his clothes. They’re soaked. A trail of water leads from the shower to the bed.
“Aren’t you going to change?”
“I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t go?—”
His pale blue eyes soften, “I’m just going into the bathroom to shed these pants.”
When he comes back, there’s a towel lashed around his waist. Light catches on the ridges of his abs, and highlights the strong contours of his pecs. Below the towel, his legs are strong and…
I force my eyes up and away.
Burn scars.
Tangles and webs of them cover his knees and his shins. And I bet they go up beneath the fabric of the towel.