Pen Pal(33)

Until now.

I notice something in the photo I’ve never noticed before. A few inches below my right shoulder, there’s a smudge on my biceps. Moving closer to the picture, I squint to make it out. Lifting my hand, I trace a finger over the glass where the smudge is.

But it doesn’t rub off because it’s not a smudge.

It’s a bruise.

A small, dark bruise in the shape of a thumb.

I fall still. Something dark gathers into storm inside me. A noise like a thousand wingbeats echoes in my ears. Beneath it, there’s a faint muffled sound that could be screaming, but it sounds as if it’s coming from very far away.

Or underwater.

All the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I feel as if an important understanding hovers just out of my reach, a key to a lock on a door I didn’t know until this moment even existed.

What is it? What am I missing?

Then the desk lamp flickers again, breaking the spell.

Shaking my head to clear it, I send Aidan a text with trembling hands.

Be right over.





18





Before I can even knock, Aidan yanks open the door.

He pulls me inside, kicks the door shut, takes me into his arms, and kisses me passionately.

I kiss him back, desperate for him to make me forget everything except the way it feels when his mouth is on mine.

Without a word, he pulls my T-shirt up and over my head. He flings it to the floor and kisses me again.

He’s not wearing a shirt, so my breasts are pressed against his bare chest. His skin is smooth and hot, and he feels wonderful.

“I thought you were supposed to be telling me why you left without saying goodbye yesterday,” I tease.

Instead of answering, he picks me up and carries me into his bedroom. I marvel that he can do that with such ease because I’m nowhere near what could be described as petite. But then he’s lowering us to the mattress and pressing the long, hard length of his body against mine, and I forget about his strength because I’m too busy luxuriating in how good he feels on top of me.

“I love how much you weigh,” I say breathlessly, squirming underneath him. “You’re so solid.” I almost add It makes me feel safe but bite my tongue in time.

Now isn’t the time to have a chat about my recent meltdown after what happened in the kitchen.

Kissing my neck, he says, “Is that number one on that list you were gonna make about all the things you like about me?”

“It’s not even in the top ten. Please keep doing that. I love how your beard feels on my skin.”

Into my ear, he says gruffly, “That’s twice you’ve said the word love, little rabbit.” When I don’t respond, he raises his head and gazes at me with one brow arched.

Shivering, I whisper, “Um. Okay.”

He chuckles.

“Hey, if you can get away with using that word to cover entire conversations, so can I.”

“Oh, you think the same rules apply to bunnies as to big bad wolves?”

His tone is dark and hot, and there’s a thrilling glint of danger in his eyes. Knowing exactly what I’m doing, I blink up at him innocently.

“I thought bunnies made the rules that the wolves had to follow.”

“No, you didn’t. Liar.”

He flips me over, yanks my jeans down my hips, and spanks me.

When it’s over and I’m lying there panting and trembling with need, he says softly, “Was that too hard?”

“No.”

“Think about it for more than half a second before you answer.”

Craning my neck, I look at him over my shoulder and meet his burning gaze. “I know you’re worried you’ll hurt me. Thank you for that, but I like it rough.”

Gazing down at me with those dark eyes alight, he says, “We need to have a safe word just in case.”

“What exactly is a safe word?”

“It’s a word that makes everything stop when you say it.”

“Hmm. How about cheesy?”

He arches his brows, waiting for an explanation.

“Because it is cheesy.”

“No, it’s necessary. We need to communicate clearly about these things.”

I frown at him. “Since when are you Mr. Conversation? Half the time I barely get a grunt out of you.”

Kneeling over me and stroking his palm over one of my burning ass cheeks, he smiles. “That’s funny.”

“In what way, exactly?”

“I talk to you more in one day than I talk to anyone else in a week.”

I make a face at him. “Really? How are you still in business? Do you know sign language or something?”

He bends down and bites my ass. When I yelp in surprise, he bites the other cheek, laughing against my skin.

“Such a mouthy little rabbit,” he whispers, rubbing his beard over my stinging behind. Then he slides a hand between my legs, and his voice gains an edge. “And so ready for me.”

I close my eyes and curl my fingers in the sheets, lying still as he glides his fingers through my wetness. He takes his time, lazily stroking my clit until I’m panting.

“Aidan?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I need more.”

“And you’ll get it. When I’m ready to give it to you.”