Page 91 of The Devil and His Ghost

Xander let out an overly dramatic sigh. “Please. I didn’t throw them that hard. What a little bitch.”

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Alex asked with a worried frown.

He reached out as though to place a comforting hand on my arm, but I quickly drew back from his touch before it could make contact. Unable to help myself, I glared at him and gritted out, “I’m fine. I’m also headed to bed. Night.”

Before he could say anything else or make another move to touch me when he knew I didn’t like being touched, I shut the door in his face. My own was still scrunched in fury over the near physical contact as I turned around to find Xander watching me with wide eyes.

“What?” I demanded.

His golden demon eyes bounced between me, the closed door, and back. He opened his mouth only for no sound to come out. After many seconds, he pursed his lips and tried again. “I think I’ve misunderstood something. You didn’t let him touch you just now.”

“Very observant.”

“How do you two fuck if you don’t like him touching you?”

“Who said Alex and I are fucking?”

Xander snapped his mouth shut and stared at me. Puzzle pieces were being assembled behind his eyes. I could’ve put the demon out of his misery and confirmed that he’d definitely misunderstood mine and the cameraman’s relationship, but where was the fun in that? I moved past him to my suitcase where I grabbed my pajamas.

“You still don’t like being touched,” Xander stated behind me.

“I still don’t like being touched,” I confirmed as I took off everything except my underwear.

My bare back tingled with the weight of his gaze from across the room. I shook out my top to slip it on, but before I could, Xander’s hand settled on my bare lower back. His palm slid affectionately up my side and onto my stomach.

“Except by me,” he whispered, the words full of hope and longing and maybe even a little bit of pain.

I swallowed hard. “Except by you.”

“So last night …”

I knew what he was asking. He thought Alex was my partner, and I hadn’t bothered correcting him. I’d let him believe that I’d moved on in more ways than one. I should’ve let him continue thinking that, but the ache in his tone brought the truth up to the surface where I couldn’t force it back down. Looking over my shoulder at him, I found a deeply furrowed brow with searching eyes beneath.

“You’re the only one,” I told him.

His eyes closed, and he dropped his forehead to my shoulder. Both hands now gripped my naked waist, and his fingers squeezed as he let out a rough breath against my skin. “I’m going to fuck you again now. Okay?”

I shivered at the mere idea. Every time Xander opened up my world to new sensations, pleasures, and experiences, it was incredible. Last night had been no different, and even knowing how we would end, I cherished the moments I got with him.

But I also wasn’t naive enough to believe that us having sex and my nightmare weren’t unrelated. If I thought about that vivid dream for even a moment, I’d slip back into the nightmare.

The small bed dipping with a sudden weight at my back.

The coos and hushed murmurs about being good.

The hands. Those fucking hands.

Shaking off the memory before it could take hold, I took a steadying breath. The nightmare hadn’t even been the worst part. The worst part was the fact that Xander had seen me at my absolute worst yet again. I couldn’t meet his eyes all morning because of it. The last thing I’d ever wanted was Xander seeing my dirty, fucked up world, yet every time one of my nightmares triggered around him, I could only crumble under the misery of self-loathing.

I didn’t want him to see my broken pieces.

I didn’t want him to see how ruined I was.

I didn’t want him to know the truth and forever reject me because of it.

As I struggled with the chaos in my head, he carefully turned me in his arms. I was still very naked, save for the underwear, but neither of us seemed to focus on that. He held my eyes while running his clawed fingers through my dark hair. “You can say no, Ghost. Like I’ve always told you. We don’t do anything you’re not ready for or don’t want.”

I pressed my lips together. Defeat, want, shame, and fear all warred within me. My eyes fixed on the closet door across the room as I replied with the only thing I could. “I’m messy.”