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“I don’t need you to say it back.” I kiss him again. “This is the new me. Honest and brave. I don’t expect anything. I just want to let you know.”

Rex’s throat works, and he remains silent. I try not to let it get to me, even though that’s impossible. But I’m a person who believes in actions over words, and for this man—someone who never settles down, who goes from fling to fling without a care—to put something so permanent on his body, I mean something to him.

Wordlessly, he frames my face with his hands again and presses a searing kiss onto my lips. I lose myself in the pleasure and warmth only he can give me.

This is enough. This has to be enough.

Chapter Forty-Three

She loves me.

She’s seen the most of me—the fucked up, the crazy, the unhinged—and she still loves me. I wanted to say the words back to her then, but I’m afraid if I can’t fix myself, if I can’t be with her after this trip, then those three words will only hurt her more.

The thoughts play inside my mind a few hours later, a favorite song set on repeat, as I usher her through a side entrance in Absinthe, a club on the Rose decks of the ship.

I’m careful, timing our entrance to the cleaning schedule, so no one will see us together. I would’ve taken her to my stateroom, but the staff always hovered nearby, and I couldn’t dismiss them without rousing suspicion.

If there’s anything I wish for, I wish to hold her hand in broad daylight in front of my friends and family, because I want everyone to know she’s mine.

That I, Rex Anderson, have fallen hopelessly in love with a woman who makes me feel something so elusive I’ve been searching for all my life.

Peace and acceptance.

My worries and nightmares don’t matter when I’m with her. She’s my sun and my stars and I orbit around her, living to tease out one moresmile, one more laugh, one more orgasm, one more everything from a woman who’s spent her life being invisible.

Like she’s saving herself for me.

But I know what will happen if we get together, if she finds out how messed up my mind is, how I lose segments of time, not knowing how I end up being where I am.

Unless I find a cure—either from the doctors or because this mission will somehow fix me—it’s only a matter of time before I do something irreparable and hurt someone.

I can’t risk that for her. I can’t pull her into my hellish orbit. It’s selfish.

Olivia is silent as I whisk her into a private room I reserved in advance. Her mouth parts when she looks around, taking in the pink neon lighting lining the ceiling, the four-poster bed in the center with hookups for straps, chains, and other equipment.

There’s a cabinet with more toys and machines for those who are curious and a one-sided window for the adventurous sort who want to watch or be watched.

But tonight, I don’t want any of it. None of the extreme things I’ve partaken in the past.

I only want to worship her and tell her with my body the three words I can’t say out loud.

Silently, I walk up to her and link our hands together before bringing them up to my lips.

I press kisses on each fingertip, marveling at how dainty her hands are compared to mine, how fragile she appears to be, but I know she’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met.

We don’t speak as I kiss my way up her arm, then to her neck, my mouth zeroing in on the special place I know will make her wild.

A whimper escapes her lips as I slowly remove her clothes, and soon she’s gloriously naked before me. Olivia’s face is flushed as she climbs onto the bed and scoots back, her luminous eyes dark when she takes inthe skin I’m revealing when I take off my shirt, then my pants, then my boxer briefs.

My cock is dripping, as always, with her. I climb over her and brush my hand on her cheeks. She releases a satisfied sigh, like she needs the touch to breathe.

Like she needs me.

Heart hiccupping in my chest, I bear down on her as I kiss those pouty lips and taste her sweetness. It doesn’t matter how many times I kiss her, how many times I touch her, I can’t seem to get enough.

I mainline her honeyed taste into my mouth as I swallow her moans and sighs. My hands slide up her body, gripping her breasts, the perfect little handfuls, before thumbing those sensitive nipples.

“Rex,” she moans when I pinch the tip—just the tip—because I know it’ll drive her wild.