Page 29 of Asylum (The Wellard Asylum #9)

I t’s been a week since I woke up to my new life.

Andrew and I are coexisting well as we navigate through this mess.

He told me he put in vacation time to be with me until he’s confident I’m alright.

We spend our days getting to know each other again.

He tells me I’m still the same woman I’ve always been, my personality and my beauty still everything he wants.

When he says those things, I can’t help but feel close to him.

But every time those feelings surface, the fact I can’t remember my past overshadows any glimmer of happiness for my future.

He told me before the accident I worked at his law office.

I’d taken courses to become a paralegal, and he insisted I work with him.

I jokingly asked if we ever got tired of each other, but he didn’t find humor in it.

His eyes darkened dangerously, and he reiterated over and over how he’d be with me twenty-four hours a day if he could.

My instincts screamed that my husband is an intense and protective man, but his words also made me feel safe and loved.

He hasn’t touched me since the day he told me how we met, and about my family.

I’m not sure why, but I did pull away from him before he left the room.

While his touch soothed me, helping me through the shock of having my life told to me by a stranger, I was overwhelmed, and needed some space. He hasn’t tried again.

It’s obvious to me why I fell in love with Andrew, and why I married him. He’s a beautiful man with a kind heart, and the patience of a saint. He cares for me like I’m a fragile little doll. The thought makes me smile, wondering if that’s the true meaning for the endearment.

“Lilly.” His voice startles me, and I spin around from the laundry I’m folding on the bed.

A shiver runs down my spine as I take him in. My breath catches as my eyes wander his bare chest, and down his torso, catching every dip and ridge of his muscular form. Gray sweatpants hang low on his hips, deep muscles disappearing beneath the material.

He’s truly male perfection.

“Lilly.” His voice deepens, and our gazes clash as he begins moving closer. He doesn’t stop until he’s directly in front of me, our bodies a mere inch apart.

My body comes alive, desperately craving his touch, and I bite my bottom lip to stifle a whimper. His pupils dilate, and I gasp as he leans in, our lips almost touching. “I think you grabbed some of my laundry, little doll.”

My mouth is suddenly dry, and I swallow slowly. “I’m s-sorry.”

He smirks. “No need, sweetheart. I just need a shirt.”

I turn quickly to dig through the pile of clothes.

My body tenses as his chest presses against my back, his arm coming around my waist, plucking a black t-shirt from the mound.

He lingers a few moments, burying his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply.

He grips my hip, his fingers digging into my skin, and I press my lips together to suppress a moan.

“You smell fucking divine.” He groans, and a desperate noise escapes my throat, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. His lips ghost down my neck, and my body begins to tremble. “So responsive to my touch.”

This man has me under his spell, and before I question what I’m doing, I spin around to face him. The intensity in his eyes has desire pooling in my lower belly, and when his lips brush the shell of my ear, my core clenches. “Andrew.”

He kisses my cheek, before pulling away. “I’ll have breakfast ready in a bit.”

I nod slowly, watching him as he slips the shirt over his head before leaving the room. As soon as he’s out of sight, all the oxygen rushes back into the room, and I feel like I can breathe again.

“Do you think we could go somewhere today?” I ask, after rinsing my plate.

He takes it from my hand, drying it with the dish towel. “Not yet. You’re still healing.”

“Oh.”

He places the plate in the cabinet, facing me once he’s closed the door. “Your injury is quite complex, little doll. You need peace and quiet to heal properly. I don’t want you exposed to the outside world full of stress and anxiety until we know you’ve recovered properly.”

“I just thought it’d be nice to get out of the house,” I whisper, wiping down the counter.

He sighs. “It will be. Once you’re better.”

“I understand.”

He steps behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle. He props his chin on my shoulder, nuzzling his nose against the side of my neck. His touch sends a shiver down my spine, and I turn in his arms, our lips dangerously close.

“You’re very protective.” I whisper.

“Fuck yes,” he growls, and the sound causes goosebumps to erupt across my skin.

He leans in, his lips ghosting over mine, and I gasp, the faint touch setting my body on fire.

Lifting up onto my toes, I press my mouth to his, and he groans, his fingers digging into my waist, pulling me closer.

His tongue pushes past my lips, and I moan, pressing myself against him, wanting more.

Needing more.

His kiss is just as intense as his dark eyes, and he owns me in a way that has me panting against his mouth. Our tongues tangle in a desperate dance, and my hips grind against him, his hard cock so close to where I want him.

He pulls away abruptly, and I suck in a lungful of air, slowly opening my eyes. He’s watching me, his gaze darting between my eyes and lips. “I’m going to shower.”

I blink. “Oh. Okay.”

He leaves the kitchen coolly, and I stare at his back as he walks away wondering what the hell just happened.