Chapter 43
Magnolia
My fingers had started to prune, and I knew I had been in the shower for longer than I should have. I was quiet on the way home, and I was quiet as Lexie held me and scolded me. My mind was running in fifty different directions—half reliving what actually happened, the other firmly planted in the what if.
What if Sloan hadn’t come? What if Sloan had been shot. What if… What if…
The once scalding water had slowly slipped to room temperature, and I knew I needed to wrap it up. Letting out a sigh, I turned the water off and grabbed a towel and stepped out. I stood facing the mirror, and my hands shook as I wiped off the condensation that had built up over the course of my shower. My reflection stared back at me; my skin looked eerily pale among the dark purple welts that littered across my neck. The more time that passed gave them time to really settle in, and it was just a reminder of what could have happened.
I couldn’t seem to tear my gaze away from the marks. I almost wanted to commit them to memory so I’d never forget what could have happened, how close it all came to ending. My body started to shake, not at the thought of what almost happened to me, but at what almost happened to Sloan because of me. Because I didn’t listen, because I couldn’t wait. I did my best to choke back the sob that settled in my throat, but it was no use, my emotions were frayed and I was teetering on an emotional breakdown. I stared at the bruises as the tears ran down my cheeks, unable to turn away.
“Magnolia?”
I barely registered Sloan’s voice behind me until his arms wrapped around my waist from behind. I took my time taking him in, in the mirror’s reflection. He looked a little disheveled, his eye was swollen, but thankfully , not shut —it’d be black and blue tomorrow . His split lip looked tender, and I found myself wanting to run my tongue over the cut to try to soothe it. His hair was slightly out of place, and the five o’clock shadow he had going on just added to his appearance. I took most of my time taking in the features of his face, the way his jaw was clenched and clearly ticking as I took my time assessing him.
Once my eyes met his in the mirror, there was no mistaking the want and need I saw in them—because they matched my own. I became acutely aware that I was standing here in a barely-there towel. Sloan must have realized it at the same time because the grip his fingers had on my waist intensified, and he used a little pressure to turn me around to face him.
His eyes left mine as his hands trailed featherlight touches over my arms, causing them to erupt with shivers and goosebumps. Even though his eyes left mine, I kept mine locked on his face, and I saw the uptick at the corner of his mouth over my shivers and I felt heat pool in my belly. He trailed his fingers so softly over the bruises that marred my neck and skin, and I saw the rage and terror wash over his features. His eyes found mine again, he looked tortured, and his whisper broke the silence that had fallen over us.
“ I almost lost you.” Since his voice was barely above a whisper, I almost missed the pain in them, but even the softness couldn’t mask it—if anything, it made it more potent. I felt his words in my bones because I felt the same way.
“And I almost lost you,” I whispered back at him, knowing my tone matched his worry.
Sloan stepped closer, if that were even possible, leaning down and his whispered breath hit the spot between my ear and my neck. “Magnolia…I can’t be in a world where you don’t exist. If there’s a choice between me and you, it’s you. Every time.”
Despite our closeness, I turned my head to look at him. “And if it’s my choice, it’s you.” I heard a rumbling in his chest at my confession. “Every. Time.”
Sloan closed the distance that was barely there, and his mouth met mine, the rumbling that had started now shook the foundation of our kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a claiming. It wasn’t a sweet kiss; it was teeth and tongues, and I tasted Sloan’s blood from his split lip, and that just added to what it was. The start of something…big.
His mouth left mine, and I whimpered at the loss of him until he grabbed my legs and forced them around him as he sat me on the bathroom countertop. His lips found mine again, but only for a brief second before he nipped his way down my throat and neck. When he came to the area where the bruises started, he placed the lightest kisses over them while he murmured how he’d never been so scared in his life.
“Sloan, please.”
I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn’t above begging him—the throbbing between my legs was starting to become unbearable.
“Please…”
I couldn’t help but grind my towel-covered pussy over the bulge that was barely concealed in his jeans.
Why is he still dressed?
Sloan’s chuckle had me blushing because I realized I must have said that out loud. He backed up a few steps and reached down to grab his T-shirt and pulled it over him and tossed it to the side. Jesus. Sloan might have been a boy when I’d left, but he was all man now. I wouldn’t say he had a six pack, but he was toned and tan and perfect . His hips jutted out, and he had a patch of hair that led down his stomach that was so damn hot, I felt the saliva pool in my mouth at where it led.
“Better?” he asked as he advanced back at me, but I wasn’t done looking at him. I held my arm out and stopped him, then jumped off the counter. I grabbed where my towel was being held together and let it pool at my feet.
“Better,” I whispered as I reached out to trace the skin on his stomach. Not able to help myself, I trailed my fingers over the patch of hair that started just below his belly button.
“So much better.” I stood on my tippy-toes and nipped right below his ear, which seemed to spur him into action.
His growl met my laugh as he threw me over his shoulder and carried me out of the bathroom and into my bedroom.
“ Mine,” Sloan ground out as he threw me on the bed.
“Mine.” I reached out and touched the bare skin over where his heart was. I barely got it out before he descended on me like I was his last meal.