Page 25 of The Intimacy of Skin

Willow must’ve turned the heat on during the night.

My body was a furnace, and my bed was heated enough to bake cookies.

I could feel sweat in places that shouldn’t have been sweaty.

She didn’t usually turn the heat up so high, though.

We tried our best to save electricity in the dumbest ways possible, usually meaning we slept under five blankets while the house stayed chilled enough to see our breath.

I let out a low, confused groan as I rustled around. My head was pounding—a slow, thundering ache that reached behind my eyes.

As I woke up further, I realized not only did my head feel like I’d been dropped onto concrete, but my entire body hurt. There was a soreness in my stomach, a stabbing in my side, and a faint woodsy scent that tickled my nostrils.

That got me jolting up immediately, realizing it wasn’t me who smelled like that.

“Oh, what the fuck,” I whisper-yelled, realizing I had just leaped from the confines of a naked Price.

Oh shit.

Oh, fuck.

Everything came rushing back to me in the worst way. Getting beat up on the sidewalk, Price defending me, taking me home…

I had been vulnerable.

What both haunted and perplexed me was that I hadn’t even fulfilled my duty. My sick, twisted need to listen to the voice that nagged at the back of my skull.

My arms, though sore, were clear of any harm. A flash of nausea roiled in my gut with a hint of guilt overpowering it. From the light through the windows, it didn’t seem very late in the day. I’d only just woken up, and I was already a mess in the head .

I fucking knew Price would break me. I knew it. Instead of fighting it or trying my best to ignore it, I had begged for it.

And, oh, how relieved I had felt. The way he handled me like I was the most precious human on Earth. Once I had asked for it, a dam released inside of me and everything had poured out.

Without a single slice of my skin, I had bled for Price. In turn, he washed me of any sin, debauchery, or evil I had carried. I had felt so free, it terrified me. Last night, I’d let go of almost a decade’s worth of control. I’d never been happier.

I had never been so scared.

I had never thought of an orgasm as beautiful until my skin felt his, and suddenly, I was ignited by a flame that made me question everything I thought about God.

Price was the apparent source of hellish heat.

He lay on his back; his legs kicked in the weirdest position.

His hair was darker from the sweat built up, strands sticking stubbornly to his forehead.

His jaw was slack, his lips parted slightly as he slept.

The beard he usually kept nicely groomed was starting to grow out, looking as unkempt as his hair.

I could see the effort he put into making himself presentable every day if his obscene bedhead was anything to base it on.

While he was sleeping, he looked peaceful. The usual scowl we both shared on default was at ease. I could tell life had weathered him, though not as severely as me, in the way his eyes crinkled even when relaxed.

Price was a gorgeous man. Seeing him in my bed was as much of a shock as it was a relief. No one had stayed in my room before aside from Willow.

I had truly bared myself to him, and that scared me even more.

Like clockwork, his voice started to filter in through my mind.

Obscenities I could never voice pounded against my head, and I was forever too weak to stop them.

I could feel the burn on my skin, aching for the blade I kept hidden in my room.

My blood thumped rapidly through my veins, begging to be let out.

I was weak against the man who ruled my brain. I knew I’d succumb to it eventually. Last night was only a detour, a Band-Aid that had started to bleed through.

But Price looked so comfortable, and I knew his skin felt as soft as it looked. Although he radiated heat that surpassed the scorching Arkansas summers, I craved it.

Looking down at him, I realized I missed him. He was right there, and I missed him. The feel of him. The way he whispered in my ear, the soft touch he offered.

I had lived my life responding to the iciest touch of the darkest men, accepting that it was all I deserved.

At the age of sixteen, I had long decided I was made of ice, born to skate along the arctic with nothing to shield my body.

I took the punch of wind in the form of human hands, soaking myself in my own blood, understanding it would be the only warmth I’d deserved.

Price was a fire I had given up hope of finding. I didn’t deserve him, but, fuck, did I want him. Something in his heart called to mine. A kindred sadness that traversed with me through the ice lands.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been staring at Price’s sleeping body. A chill made its way through me, only increasing the desire for his fire.

A war raged in my mind. It would be easy to wake him and demand he leave, claiming last night had been another mistake. I could even use it as leverage for cutting off our deal. Willow wouldn’t fuss too much, I didn’t think.

By tomorrow, I could go back to my normal life. Though I’d have to find a new area to work in, since those other guys hated my guts.

And I’d never be able to forget Price’s touch.

Or his amber eyes, a color that felt like nostalgia for a memory I didn’t have. Bonfires I never attended. Campfires I never started. Life I never lived. I’d never taste his cooking again, either. Pasta had forever been ruined for me since eating the masterpiece he’d made so effortlessly.

My hands trembled as I reached down. I hovered my palm over Price’s arm, hissing at the intense wave of warmth that came from him. Seriously, was he running a fever?

If I got him to leave now, I could listen to the voice screaming in the back of my mind. It would be so fucking easy to do what I had done for nearly a decade already. My body was a roadmap of my mistakes, each bump and ridge a tally Thompson made sure I’d never forget.

Thompson

Thompso n

Thompson

Moving the bed as little as possible, I sank back down into Price’s embrace. The cold melted away immediately, pulling a satisfied sigh from me. I took full advantage of his bare chest, placing my cheek on it and listening to his heartbeat.

It thundered in my ear, clearing every last thought away. He shifted, wrapping an arm around my lower back in such a gentle way it almost brought tears to my eyes.

To be held so gingerly, so sweetly, was something entirely new in my world. I let my eyelids fall shut, listening to his breathing like I’d done with my mom when I was young. His had a different cadence to it, slower, and easier than Mom had ever breathed.

The easiest breath my mom took was her last one. Although it was labored, rumbling with fluid, I remembered the smile on her face when her chest fell for the last time.

“Good morning.” Price’s words were muffled against my ear.

Prying my eyes open, I tilted my head to look at him from below. My heart started to race, no longer in sync with his. “Morning.”

He smiled. Oh, fuck he smiled. I could see the dangerous point of his canines I adored. My body responded against my will, my cock pumping with more blood than was necessary this early in the morning.

His eyes roamed my face. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah.” I glanced away, a blush darkening my cheeks as my erection dug into his hip. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No, you did the exact opposite.”

“How are your injuries?”

“So many questions, Prince Charming.”

“Forgive me for worrying, My King.”

I scowled. “Don’t call me that, it makes it weird.”

“Huh?”

I shook my head, dropping myself back onto his chest. “Just stick to Pretty Boy.”

Price pulled me in closer, wrapping both his arms around me until I was officially suffocating in his warmth. I let out a groan, muffled by his chest. “Are you sick or something?”

He pulled back, raising an eyebrow in question .

“You’re on fire, dude.”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed, a sound that would follow me forever. “I’ve been told I get really hot. I’m surprised you didn’t kick me away in your sleep.”

I hadn’t even thought of that as an option. Asleep or awake, I don’t think I could muster up the strength to kick him away. I would throw myself off the edge of the bed before I did that.

Would I tell him that, though? Absolutely not. “I’m usually pretty… cold, I guess. So it works out. Not that I’ve slept with anyone besides my mom and Willow.”

“Really?”

“It’s just not something I do.”

Price pondered that for a moment with a thoughtful expression. “But you did it with me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, spotting a smirk that riled me up to no end. “I—” I cleared my throat, but the lump there wouldn’t clear. “Well…” I tried again, not even sure what I was going to say. Did I admit that he’d broken through my control?

Unfortunately, I didn’t have the chance to decide.

The door flew open just before a high-pitched scream echoed through the room. “Oh my God!”

Fight-or-flight kicked in, my body choosing flight just as Price’s did as well. We both pushed away from each other, my ass almost toppling over the edge. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“It looks like y’all still have used goddamn condoms right next to you!” Willow stared in shock—maybe horror—or another emotion entirely.

I stared back at her, wide-eyed and terrified.

Willow had never walked in on me like this.

There wasn’t a chance to. She had seen me beaten, bloody, and close to death more times than I could count.

But she had never walked in on me naked and cuddling another man with bruises that didn’t relate to him.

Instead of turning away, Willow stomped further into the room with fury on her face. “Did you fucking do that to him?” She was looking at Price but pointing to me.