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“About what happened to you?” she asks.

“Yeah. Never.”

“Not even Nina?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Reliving it is too painful.”

“I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready, but I’ve helped many kids through traumatic situations. Parents getting divorced. Kids’ homes burning down. The death of a sibling. Things like that. Some people find it helpful to talk about the bad stuff that happened to them. If you’re ready to talk about it, I’d like to hear your story.”

“It’s more fucked up than anything you could imagine,” I warn.

“I can handle it.”

“After you hear what happened, you won’t see me the same way.”

“I won’t judge you. You can tell me anything.”

The soft melodic tone of her voice lowers my inhibitions. Before I can stop myself, my lips part, and my mouth begins to move. “My mom died when I was four. A monster adopted me.”

My jaw clenches as memories come rushing back. I feel like I’m four years old again, helpless and overwhelmed with fear. I don’t know if I can do this. I can barely string together a sentence. My breath is shallow and rough. It’s hard to take in enough air, and I start to panic.

“I’m so sorry that happened,” she whispers while stroking my back. “If it’s too hard to talk about it, you don’t have to. We can just sit here like this.”

There’s no pity in her tone. No revulsion. Granted, I haven’t really told her anything yet, but I want to. God help me, I want to. But I’m afraid to tell her about Blackstone. So instead of spilling my guts, I pull her onto the bed, roll her onto her side, and curl up behind her, spooning her. I wrap one arm around her waist while I rest my head in the crook of the other. She pushes back against me, unintentionally brushing her ass against my cock. The contact is too much. I can’t stand being this close to her without being inside her. It’s driving me crazy.

I roll her onto her back and hover over her soft, warm body. Her eyes darken with hunger, and it’s all the permission I need to keep going. I lower myself against her, reveling in every voluptuous curve, pinning her beneath me. She slides her hands up my back, pulling my shirt over my head before tossing it onto the floor. Her hands splay against my chest, not to push me away but to roam over my muscles. Her touch is more than I can stand. I’m burning up inside. I’ve needed her since the moment we met, and now I’m going to have her.

As I brush my lips across hers, she whimpers, tangling her fingers in my hair and tugging me down. I deepen the kiss, pressing my advantage until her lips part. When she gasps, I sweep my tongue across hers, savoring her sweetness. She tastes like wild strawberries and honey, intoxicating and ripe with desire.

“Scar,” she murmurs.

I plunge my tongue between her lips, silencing her. She groans and arches her hips, tormenting me with the promise of oblivion. I press against her hot center, silently cursing all the clothing between us. I don’t want anything between us, so I push her shirt up. She moves her arms over her head, making it easier to remove. I want to be skin to skin with her, but I pause for a moment to take in the sight of her pink satin lingerie. If her panties are as sexy as her bra, I’m a dead man. I don’t know how I’ll be able to take the sight of her, but I’m determined to strip her regardless.

I sit back on my heels and tug at the buttons on her jeans. Peeling her pants off is pure torture, but I’m rewarded with a glimpse of the matching panties. My cock twitches, stretching and growing painfully hard against my zipper. I yank her pants off and throw them aside. She slides her hands across her barely covered breasts. Her nipples strain against the silky fabric. My mouth waters, and I don’t waste time searching for the clasp. With trembling hands, I push her bra up. As her breasts spill into my waiting palms, I curl my fingers around her petal-pink nipples, giving them a little pinch. She gasps and tilts her head back, exposing her neck. I’m about to nibble on that tender flesh when someone knocks on the door.

“Goddammit!” I kiss her neck, just below her earlobe, before getting off the bed. “This better be fucking good.”

Behind me, Julia scrambles to gather her clothing. She races across the room into the adjoining bathroom. I wait until she closes the door before opening mine.

“What?”

“Busy?” Matrix leans past me to inspect the room.

“What is it?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“I’ve got an update on the mom, but if you’re occupied by something else …” A wicked grin spreads across his face. I want to slap it right the fuck off. Why didn’t he wait for me with the others? I can hear them laughing and talking in the living room. Why the hell did he feel the need to interrupt me at the worst possible moment?

The bathroom door opens. Julia walks out with a sheepish smile. “Hey, Matrix.”

“Sorry if I interrupted something.” As his gaze sweeps down her body, I step into his line of sight, blocking his view. He’d better back the fuck off before I pound him into the floor.

“We were just … uh, talking?” Julia’s voice pitches up.

“I didn’t mean to disturb yourconversation.” Matrix smirks. “I have information you might find interesting, but if you’re too busy …”