Page 58 of Under Your Scars

I nervously take his hand and a valet manifests out of thin air, giving me a once-over as Christian hands him the keys. I know how it must look. I’m in a mini-skirt and a crop top. He thinks I’m a hooker. He doesn’t let any emotion show on his face as he takes off in the car, leaving Christian and I alone. He opens the front door and leads me inside with a gentle hand on the small of my back.

I look up and I can’t help the sound of awe that escapes my lips. The foyer of the mansion is something directly out of a movie. A double staircase leads up to the second floor. Pristine hardwood floors under our feet reflect the sound of my heels with each step. Directly across from us, beyond the staircase on the other side of the mansion, I can see a wall of windows, displaying the massive backyard with the biggest pool I’ve ever seen and a hot tub the size of my apartment.

“Wow.” Red blooms across Christian’s cheeks, as if he’s embarrassed by the grandeur of it all. “I think I’m going to need a map,” I joke, trying to ease the tension between us, and it pulls a soft laugh from him.

“You get used to it,” he says, lacing his fingers with mine and pulling me towards one of the long corridors. It feels like I’ve walked a mile before we come across a set of double doors. It must be his bedroom.

There’s a fireplace crackling on the far wall, framed by two floor-to-ceiling windows, with blackout drapes tied away to let the moonlight shine through the room. The furniture is rich brown wood and black leather. The only slice of color in the room is the burgundy comforter neatly made on the California-king sized bed. There’s a table and two chairs in front of one of the windows, and a loveseat tucked into the corner near the other. On either side of the bed sit two nightstands.

There’s a bookshelf directly next to us. It’s covered in photos. So many photos of his family. His parents. His accomplishments. His life. His mother and father on their wedding day. Him as a baby in his mother’s arms. A family photo of him, no older than five, in an adorable little suit with a bowtie, matching his father. His mom is wearing her signature red lips in all of them, and her short black hair is styled in big, glamorous curls.

“Your mother is beautiful.”

He has his mother’s eyes. That unique, vibrant light blue with a dark rim around the iris that had me swooning from the moment I collided with him at Reeves Enterprises.

There’s a photo of his MIT graduation, standing next to an older man that I guess is his godfather, Edwin. He’s got a proud smile on his face, though Christian’s mouth is in a hard line. I’m glad Christian had at least one person to love him while he grew up. I can tell just from this one photo how much Edwin adores his godson.

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask, my fingers tracing over the framed photos on the bookshelf. He wraps me in his arms from behind and the embrace feels like home.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” he whispers against my neck. “At breakfast.”

“Oh,” I whisper nervously. “You want me to stay over?”

I feel him smirk against my neck. “Yes.”

I turn to face him, and his hands instantly go to my waist. He lightly pushes me backwards until the backs of my legs hit the bed and I sit down. I gulp, swallowing the massive lump in my throat as he kneels in front of me and tenderly unbuckles the strap of my heel to take it off my foot before moving to the other. “I don’t have anything to sleep in. Or makeup wipes. Or a toothbrush. Or anything.”

He shushes me, kissing my ankle when it’s free from my shoe. “I’ll take care of it. Wait here. I’ll grab you something to change into.”

He stands up and pads over to his closet, flipping on the light. Even from across the room, I can tell it’s as over the top as the rest of the house. He disappears and I run my hands through my hair as my phone vibrates. I absentmindedly pick it up and my heart stops when I read the message.

Unknown: You’re going to regret blowing me off for him.You think I’m scared of those armed guards?

Unknown: Sleep with one eye open,angel.

My heart starts pounding so hard in my chest it makes me dizzy. The phone slips from my hand onto the comforter and I push it away from me like it’s a bug. I completely forgot that I told the Silencer that I was going to meet him after my shift, so distressed about the fact that he was in my apartment last night and I don’t remember it.

He’s not actually stupid enough to try and break into the mansion, right?It’s suicide. He’d get shot dead two steps past the fence. I start to fidget nervously, and that’s when Christian emerges from the closet with a t-shirt far too big for me.

Christian is being awfully quiet, and I hate it. I hate that things are weird between us, and I hate it more that it’s almost entirely on me. I take a deep breath and crack him a small smile.

“So what’s for breakfast?”

“Anything you want. Paolo makes the best eggs on the East Coast.”

“Can Paolo make French toast?”

Christian’s dazzling smile is all the answer I need. He caresses my jaw and captures my lips in a searing kiss.

“I missed you, Elena. I don’t care that it’s been less than a day. I fucking missed you,” he whispers against my mouth, and I mewl when he lowers me backwards onto the bed. He holds himself up and I tangle my fists in his dress shirt. The kiss turns hungry, and he wastes no time pulling off my shirt and bra, followed by my skirt and thong until I’m completely bare to him.

His eyes glue themselves to the bite mark on my neck, and I suddenly feel defensive. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Christian gently leans down, cradling my head to the side as he tenderly kisses the bite mark and then licks along the bruise, as if to reclaim my skin as his. He nips lightly, and the ache causes me to hiss, but he shushes me by connecting our lips and grinding against my center.

I fumble with his belt and unbutton his slacks. He helps me pull them off his legs to free his hard cock and my pussy instantly clenches at the anticipation of feeling him inside me again. The space between my thighs is already growing hot and wet. I reach for his shirt buttons, and he grabs my wrists with one hand, pinning them above my head so fast I yelp.

His blue eyes bore into me, and his gaze is practically seducing my soul as he licks two of his fingers and rubs a circle against my clit. It throbs with need, and I moan into his mouth.