Chapter 10
Lake
Am I pushing myself too far?
Possibly.
But I’ll never know my limits if I don’t test them, and there’s no safer person for me than Saint Rivers.
I’m so tired of constantly being afraid.
Worried my captors will show up and cause more harm.
Frightened that my loved ones will find me as disgusting as I find myself.
The only way to change my mindset is to be the change I want to see.
While Saint readies the hot tub, I’m in the bedroom staring at my naked reflection in the mirror.
Finally taking my therapist’s advice and choosing one thing I like about myself.
The scars may be a horrid reminder of that night, but before then, I used to appreciate how I looked.
This cluster of moles on my hip used to make me smile.
Focusing on them before sweeping my eyes from my feet to my head, I analyze everything in between.
My peach-painted toenails with little palm trees on the big toes that made me happy to do them.
The dimples in my knees that are less pronounced because it’s been challenging to keep weight on.
My thighs now have a gap between them, which isn’t terrible, but I remember when they used to rub together, and I’m not sure how to feel.
The small patch of curly blonde hair hiding my sex is neatly trimmed and not too thick. I wonder if Saint will touch me there, or if he’ll hate the hair? Don’t men like it shaved?
Shaking the thought away, I force myself to ignore the scars on my stomach and chest, instead zeroing in on my perky breasts.
No matter what, they’ve remained a solid C-cup.
Sitting high on my chest, my nipples peak from the chill in the air, pointing in a slight upward curve as I realize they’re almost the same color as my peach nail polish.
The areolas are what I consider a large circle.
Is that enticing to men? Or do they like smaller?
I wish I knew more about what men desire.
Although Saint is the only man I’ll ever worry about.
Because even if I can’t have him, I’ll never want someone else.
Glimpsing upward, my collarbones are pronounced, and I think about getting a tattoo.
Maybe some leafy vines with black birds in flight, signifying freedom from my past, even if I don’t feel it yet.
My eyes then drop down to the scars, and I wonder if tattoos would cover those up as well.
Could that be a way to create beauty out of the ugliness I’m faced with every day?
Saint has hundreds of tattoos. I think I’ll ask him about it.
With a slight turn, I inspect my booty. Perky like my breasts, but not as large.
Is it too much? I don’t think so. Even post-assault, men have admired my body.
Thing is, I never wanted their attention.
I didn’t even want Saint’s, but over the last couple of years, watching my best friends and family find love amidst their perceived flaws has made me want that too.
The love and devotion. Respect from a partner who knows the trauma I’ve been through and has no trouble accepting me as I am. I realize Saint can and will give me that. He always has. I was just too wrapped up in my grief to accept it.
Lifting the knitted robe Saint gifted me a few years ago for my birthday, I slide it on, tie it up, and slip my feet into the matching slippers.
I hear Saint enter through the back door, below the loft. How did I miss a hot tub? It might have been in the cabin description, but I wasn’t paying attention to anything but getting away.
Ambling down the stairs, the living room fireplace still blazes, the snow continues to fall, though not as heavily, and the rest of the cabin is quiet except for the noises Saint makes. My mouth waters as I spot the steaming cups of hot chocolate and fudge he’s carrying before he notices me.
“Saint?” He stops, turns, and his forest-colored eyes roam the length of my body. Seeing me in things he bought for me brings pleasure to his face. “Do you need help?”
“No,” he groans.
“I’d like to help.” I haven’t done anything for him since he arrived. He’s done all the cooking and planning.
“Then follow me out.” Fully clothed, he makes his way back outside as I follow. The sounds of Alex Warren’s song “Ordinary” play from hidden speakers as I watch Saint place the tray on a table next to the hot tub.
Shivering, some of my bravado fades now that I’m about to get in naked. “It’s so cold out here.” My breath frosts in front of my face, amplifying the words.
“The faster you get in, the warmer you’ll be.” Saint’s powerful hands grasp my hair, tugging it up and tying it on top of my head. A little shocking but oh so sweet.
Turning to come face-to-face, my arms wrap around his body and hold him close. His heat warms me as I say, “Take it off me.”
I remove my slippers, standing on top of them as my hands move between us and untie the sash. His calloused palms slide across my shoulders as he pushes the cloth down my body, exposing me to the cold as my lungs expand sharply, shocked by the sudden cold.
Saint takes the opportunity to run his hands down my back, chasing the chill away. When his fingers tickle across my curvy ass, I shiver instead of tensing and take it as a good sign. I’ve always wanted to feel his hands on me in more ways than a hug or comfort.
“More,” I gasp into his chest, rubbing my face against him. Enjoying the feel of his hands touching me like a lover for the first time.
“More,” he repeats, with a feral growl that vibrates through me.
Squeezing my flesh, he lifts my cheeks and spreads them wide, exposing my most vulnerable areas to the blistering cold.
I love it. Despite the discomfort and new sensations, my response is quite promising to what the future holds for us.
“Will you undress, too?” I ask. His reply comes in the form of a strangled groan as he picks me up and places me in the temperate water.
Sinking to my neck to savor the heat, Saint grips the edges, his breathing becoming rough pants.
“Saint?” Whispering his name, I kneel on the bench, the top half of my body exposed to the elements and his eyes.
“Are you okay?” My nipples tighten painfully from the frigid cold, water dripping off the tips and crystallizing as I try not to shiver.
Fascinated by the man in front of me, who has always been larger than life, his eyes slowly travel my body, pausing on my stiff peaks before meeting my gaze. The intensity freezes me in place, yet I quiver at the same time. He’s in complete control despite his murderous look.
“The things I want to do to you should make you run. Will make you scream. When you offer yourself like this to a man like me, sweet haven, the beast is ready to breach, and I’m about to lose control.”
My breath catches as I analyze his words.
Slowly, my hands press to his muscular chest. His strength only bolsters my own, and when I move my fingers across his skin and down his arms to grab his hands, he stares intensely.
Gripping each wrist, I don’t think, I just move his hands to palm my breasts. The icy water crashing against my heated skin.
“Fuck.” Saint’s cursing turns me on, and I don’t realize it until he’s fondling me like his own treasure.
“Now, will you join me? Please.”
A strangled moan escapes his throat as he releases me and begins removing his clothes. Every inch of him is covered in hair or black ink. Sculpted with muscle and raw masculinity.
As he stands naked before me, my eyes map his body like wild land waiting to be claimed. I’ve never had this kind of reaction to a man before. Not even to Saint before now. He’s beautiful with his tattoos, his scars, all that thick, warm hair just waiting for me to touch.
“You’re beautiful.” My words seem to echo around us. His signature grunt indicates that he thinks I’m lying. I’m not. Saint is the most devastatingly gorgeous person I’ve ever seen or known.
My eyes avoid looking at his manhood. I’m not sure I’m ready for that as he steps over the edge of the tub and into the steaming water. He pulls me in next to him with an arm around my waist to hold my hip, while I remain kneeling.
Our eyes meet.
Enraptured in his stare, he presses me more firmly into his side as his hand explores my body. Moving around to my ass, down my thigh, and back up my side. Tracing the curve of my breast until it grows ticklish before sliding to my nipple and firmly pinching the bud.
I gasp, but Saint doesn’t let up. He plays with me softly, allowing me the option to tell him to stop or pull away. Never pushing too hard for more, nor shying away when he feels me tense.
My chin warbles as my body reminds me of the last time someone of the opposite sex touched me like this. It’s nearly overpowering these feelings, thrashing to break free and inflict god-awful misery.
“Stay with me,” Saint murmurs, leaning closer so his breath caresses my face. “Look at me, sweet haven.” Tears crowd my vision to the point that he’s a blur. “I’d never hurt you.”
“I know.” Breaking eye contact, I turn my body fully towards him and settle down to sit on my feet. “The way you touch me feels so good, but my body refuses to forget. I try, Saint, so hard to stay in the moment, but my mind never stops.”
“So, we keep trying, one step at a time, until you light up from just the thought of my hands on your body.” Leaning forward, he presses his face into my neck and peppers light kisses on my flesh.
“I want that.” The more he talks and touches me, the easier it is to forget how broken I just felt.
“Then we’ll continue going slow. One step at a time,” he says in a tense, yet soothing tone, quelling the leftover anxiety in my chest. “Now, take a look.” With his other hand, he points behind me.
“Oh my gosh!” I cover my mouth so as not to startle the mama deer and her fawns, then settle into sitting hip-to-hip with Saint. Watching Mother Nature in her purest form as they munch on the feed Saint left out for them fills me with a clean, untainted contentment. “They’re so adorable.”
We’d never get such a picturesque scene like this in Florida, and I’m genuinely glad I came. More so that Saint found me.