Chapter 59
Chapter Fifty-Nine
“Lauren, wake up.”
The sound of Kain’s voice pulled me out of my night terrors, his hands holding me down by my shoulders to keep me still.
In the dark of his bedroom, his eyes looked over me, alarmed.
When I sat up against the bed’s headboard, his full attention was still on me.
Clearing my throat awkwardly, I looked away and pushed at his chest to put some distance between us.
After waking up at the hospital last year, dreams of conversations I’d had in my coma were not the only thing that visited me at night.
On the nights where I didn’t dream of Kain, nightmares ate away at my peace of mind constantly.
Most of the time, it would be a vivid reliving of that awful night in July, when I felt my life slip through my fingers like sand.
I died that day.
Literally.
There was this chunk of time that went blank between the moment I heard the cracking of the gunshot and then waking up sixteen days later, gaunt, scarred, and childless.
Clearly, I went to hell. And I relived that night in my nightmares at least once a week for the past sixteen months.
Even nestled in the security of Kain’s arms, I wasn’t safe from these nightmares. Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes.
Kain reached for his bedside table and switched on a light.
“No.” I covered my tears, ashamed of them. “Turn off the light.”
Instead, he tiredly sat up and pulled the comforter over his shoulders, leaving an opening for me to climb into his arms and under the covers with him.
Wiping away at my cheeks, I joined him under the blanket and he quietly wrapped it around us.
Sitting between his legs, my back pressed into his chest and Kain leaned forward, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“How often do you have nightmares?” he asked quietly while slipping an arm around my waist, giving me a sense of stability from the firmness of his hold. I could feel him breathing against my back, the rise and fall of his chest on my back unsurprisingly soothing.
“I don’t know, not often,” I replied quickly. A lie.
“So all the time?” He easily saw straight through it. Resignedly, I sighed, which he took as a confession. “How long?”
“Sixteen months.”
“Have they gotten better since they started?”
“No.”
“Do you find it difficult to fall asleep after waking up from one?”
I shrugged, feeling defeated when I admitted, “Wine usually helps me get sleepy again.”
“Can I get you a glass of wine then?” he offered.
“It’s usually a little more than just a glass.”
“I see,” he understood, his body shifting around me in a slow move off the bed. “Wait here,” he instructed against my neck, the warmth of his breath sending goosebumps along the skin it brushed against. “I’ll be right back.”
He left the blanket wrapped around me. Before we’d fallen asleep, I’d convinced him to turn down the temperature so that he could be comfortable, and now I was freezing.
Kain was back into the room in less than a minute.
In his hand he held two wine glasses, and in the other, a dark bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.
It was much fancier than the grocery store variety I was accustomed to polishing off in one sitting.
This was not the type of wine you drank straight from the bottle while listening to Erykah Badu.
Kain sat at the foot of the bed and poured me a glass first, stopping half an inch below the halfway point.
It was a respectable amount of wine—definitely the amount you’d pour for yourself in the company of others.
When he poured himself a glass, I noted that it was slightly a little less than mine—making it obvious that he was only pouring himself a glass to forgo the awkwardness of me drinking alone.
The cabernet was a full-bodied flavor—hints of black cherries with the kick of black peppercorns lingering on my tongue after the first sip.
The smooth glide down my throat was practically luxurious, relaxing my tense muscles in what I could only refer to as expensive comfort.
I stuck my tongue out to catch the stray drop left on my lower lip, my eyes drawing up to Kain, whose eyes on me felt like heat on my skin from a summery day.
Much to my embarrassment, I’d gulped the entire glass in one go.
Wordlessly, Kain extended his own glass, offering it up to me without a hint of judgement in his eyes.
I reached for it, setting my own glass down on a bedside table before bringing his glass to my lips for a slower drink than the first. The wine was sweeter now that I took the time to savor it.
The tingle of the alcohol warmed my blood enough for the coldness of the room to be cast aside.
Maybe this was the sign that I was developing a drinking problem, but I felt better now for having got the drink in my system.
I cast a gratified look Kain’s way, which he met with a sympathetic smile.
Sympathy was one of my least favorite finds in the eyes of other people, but on Kain, it just reminded me that I was loved.
I didn’t hate it. I certainly didn’t like it, but I didn’t hate it.
The warmth in his gaze gave me a happy dose of nostalgia. Kain always used to look at me with such affection in his eyes. That much hadn’t changed.
He looked so handsome tonight.
Maybe it was the alcohol, but as my eyes scanned over him, I couldn’t help but fall into flashbacks of me biting down on his lower lip when we used to kiss.
The smell of his skin was always so fresh and clean against the tip of my nose the moment our lips would touch.
The feel of his hands settling at my ass, grabbing two handfuls with a gentle squeeze as he pushed me further to him and against his hardening—
Involuntarily, my front teeth sunk into my lower lip.
Kain inhaled tight, and I remembered that he’d always had a thing for the way I bit my lip.
Fueled by the power of two glasses of wine, I leaned into his space, stopping only when I felt my forehead press against his chest. His heart was beating at a relaxed pace.
This made me roll my eyes. Even after all this time, my heart beat a mile a minute for his presence. And Kain…
Kain always kept it together.
I tried to change the subject. “I’m going to need about two more before I fall asleep.”
He thought about it for maybe a second, before ultimately setting the bottle down, denying me of the drink he apparently didn’t think I needed. With the shake of his head, I was already trying to change his mind. Just short of my first words, he said something before I could.
The tenderest warning I’d ever heard.
“Baby…” A one-worded order for me to tread lightly.
My already speedy heartbeat stuttered, and I felt a jolt between my legs.
I lost my nerve, as well as my voice. Saying nothing else, his hand drew up and settled on my face, running soothing lines along my cheek with his thumb.
The way his eyes explored my features, analyzing every detail—it had been so long since I’d felt so visible.
Kain’s head sloped forward, eyes holding mine as my forehead met his.
I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling of his hands on me.
Slowly, parts of us met one another in a deliberate game of suspense.
Forehead to forehead. Nose tip brushing against nose tip, our breathing coalescing into matching speeds, his breath hitting warm against my parted lips.
Kain’s lips touched mine softly at first, a cautious first reunion since the last time they were together.
And then it was like he couldn’t get enough of me—drawing back for what might’ve been a split second before coming back with a force that could only be described as hunger.
It was like he’d held off from kissing me for as long as he did because he saw this loss of control coming.
With his hands at my waist, he pulled forward, drawing me closer as our mouths joined in a long memorized dance of leading then following, and then leading again.
Easily, he pushed past my parted lips, inviting himself in to taste the remnants of the cabernet he hadn’t bothered to drink himself.
Kain pulled me in as close as we could get with clothes on—chest to chest, lips to lips, tongue to tongue—his hands at my waist traveling downward and stopping at the hem of my shirt.
My breathing hitched, a hot iron of fear searing into my chest at the realization that, with the lights on, I wasn’t going to be able to hide it from him.
My breathing sped up, but my hands remained still, unwilling to stop him as he drew the white fabric of my top over my head.
Kain would see the scar that was permanently etched into me, the ugliest addition to the body he used to know.
And even though I knew it would absolutely destroy me if he was disgusted by it, I let him undress me.
His fingers came up behind me, settling at the clasp of my bra.
He didn’t ask; he didn’t even hesitate. With a twist of his hand, the clasp of my bra was undone, freeing my breasts between us in a move that just screamed ownership.
Kain’s movements were that of a man who knew I was his; the behavior of a man who knew I would always be his.
He drew back, scanning my half naked body with more than just interest, and an appreciative glint in his gaze.
I felt beautiful for the first time in a while, but I held my breath as I waited for his eyes to dip lower and see the raised, black gash that was permanently carved into me now.
I waited for him to see that I was ugly now.