Page 32 of Heart of the Villain

Not purposely, but Arlet was definitely giving them their space, and it was clear there was no ill will harbored either.

Truly, the two were disgustingly obsessed with each other. Marlena couldn’t blame Arlet for backing off. She couldn’t understand the appeal of a love like theirs. It seemed rather exhausting, really.

Arlet hugged Vega and Bridger and waited to say goodbye to Khort, who decided to leave with them, when they were outside.

He hated watching Vega fall in love with someone else. Khort wouldn’t admit it, but everyone knew—everyone could see the way he’d avert his gaze whenever they kissed, or how he’d started to use whatever excuse he could to leave instead of staying the night like he used to.

Marlena didn’t hug anyone goodbye. She rarely let anyone touch her anymore. Since her parents had stopped physically beating her, Marlena didn’t crave touch like she once had. When the only time anyone was touching her was when they were hurting her, Marlena craved anything but that. She wanted someone to caress her cheek, to hold her and not let the world hurt her anymore.

But now, the idea of someone’s hands on her brought back the memories she was scared of seeing, of the vulnerability she’d been working too hard to diminish from herself.

After Arlet hugged Khort, Marlena stepped back, putting distance in between them. “Get home safe.” That was the only goodbye he would get. She turned on her heel, and the driver opened the door to the large transport vehicle.

Marlena settled herself in the seat facing the way they were driving, and she watched as Arlet slipped in behind her and claimed the bench across from her. The door shut with a click, and the engine roared to life.

For a while, they rode in silence, Arlet fighting off sleep and Marlena lost in a book she’d gotten years ago from Littera.

Arlet stretched her arms over her head and wiggled her hips against the seat like she was a cat looking for the comfiest spot to nap. “Wake me up when we get there.” She smiled sleepily. “Bridger wore me out. I don’t know how Vega keeps going.” Marlena watched her weigh it out in her head. “Well, I do, because Vega can’t ever sit still… but gods, I’m sore,” she whined.

Marlena paused in the middle of reading a sentence. “Want me to rub your back?” she asked, shocked by her own question.

She’d just been internally freaking out about the idea of someone touching her, and now here she was, offering to rub out Arlet’s overworked muscles.

Arlet’s features warmed, a small tinge of pink working its way into her cheeks. She didn’t say anything, only nodded as she moved to join Marlena.

The vehicle picked up speed at the back roads leading through the outskirts of Fortis that led home to Stella. Marlena closed her book and hid it between the cushions.

Arlet clipped her hair up, exposing her neck and the sweater that draped over her shoulders. Spring was in full bloom, and the chill had yet to leave the air as the sun began its descent through the sky.

Marlena pulled her leg up underneath her, making room for Arlet to sit in front of her. She cracked her fingers, trying to loosen her hands while untangling the webs around her brain. This is just Arlet. You’ve touched Arlet before. Arlet is your friend. This isn’t weird. Touching Arlet isn’t weird.

She lowered her hands to Arlet’s shoulders, her touch featherlight until she felt Arlet settle in closer. Marlena’s thumbs dug into the muscles surrounding Arlet’s spine at the base of her neck.

Training with Bridger was hard—he didn’t back down, and it was clear he wasn’t willing to change his fighting style to go easy on any of them either.

Marlena appreciated that.

She squeezed Arlet’s shoulders, really digging into a knot around her scapula. She inhaled hard, and Marlena softened her touch naturally.

Arlet twisted her neck from side to side. “No, no, that felt good.” Her voice was hazed with satisfaction, and Marlena was sure if she could see her face, her eyes would have rolled back into her head.

Marlena drilled her thumb back into the spot on her back, her other hand wandering to the same muscle on the opposite side and pressing in with the palm of her hand.

Arlet leaned in for more, chasing the hard press of Marlena’s touch. “Fuuuuuuck,” she groaned, and Marlena inhaled her scent as Arlet’s neck came within inches of her nose and lips.

Honey mixed with the smell of Arlet’s dried sweat. It should repulse her, make her crawl out of her skin at the thought of touching someone who had yet to shower after a lesson in the ring… but it didn’t.

Marlena wanted more. She licked her lips and allowed her hands to slide up to the edges of Arlet’s loose sweater. She slipped her fingers underneath and pulled it off her shoulders. It sank between them, catching in the crook of Arlet’s elbow, revealing more of her soft skin underneath. Arlet didn’t protest. The opposite, actually. She pulled her arms out, leaving her in a sheer tank top.

The heat of Arlet’s skin made the outside world fall away. It was just Marlena and Arlet, trapped in their own little universe.

Marlena drove her fingers back into Arlet’s achy muscles, and this time, a moan slipped through Arlet’s lips. Marlena couldn’t help it—she’d lost all her senses but one. She leaned in, her lips fluttering over the delicate skin of Arlet’s neck. Goosebumps scattered over Arlet’s skin, and she gasped. “Mar…”

The nickname was a whisper, but it made something inside of Marlena click. The way Arlet drove into Marlena’s touch, her eagerness to accept the massage offer—all of it had Marlena’s head spinning.

Arlet wanted this too. It wasn’t just a figment of Marlena’s imagination.

Marlena slid a hand up and cupped Arlet’s throat where it met her chest, driving her fingers into her collarbone.