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"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, and his voice made me inch closer to him on the bed so I could cup his cheek in my hand. Even as tears pooled in my eyes, I plowed forward.
"I never wanted you to know. You're the only person who looks at me and sees someone who's strong. Who stands up for myself. I didn't want to lose that," I whispered, my throat tightening with my attempt to fight back my tears.
"Surviving this only makes you stronger," he argued.
I nodded, because I'd long since realized it was true. Surviving after Connor's assault had required a strength I didn't know I possessed, especially since I was determined to do it without telling my family or Lino what had happened. "I couldn't stand the thought you would look at me differently. The thought that you might pity me for what happened when it was my own decisions that put me there in the first place, that was something I couldn't bear. So, I kept it from you. I kept it from everyone."
"You are not responsible for what he did," Lino hissed, tugging back from my hold on his face with a sudden ferocity.
“I didn't say that. But I chose him. I married him, Lino. I let him tear me down for years and strip away everything that mattered to me except for you. He destroyed the way I saw myself, and I let him. If I couldn't even defend myself or stand up for myself, then I had no business asking you to risk everything to defend my honor that I didn't deserve to hold on to.”
Lino's deep eyes darkened, and he finally shook his head before sliding closer to me. "You’re wrong. You’re mine to protect, and you need to trust me to do that. Promise me you won't ever keep secrets from me again," he ordered. "I mean it, Samara. No more."
"And what about you? You said that you'd give me your truth after I came clean. Does that mean you're keeping secrets too? And I'm just supposed to accept those?" I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest with a huff.
"I'll tell you my secret when you're feeling better. It's not a secret, so much as something you just refuse to admit to yourself, but that's alright. Things are about to become very, very clear between us. Do you know what I'm talking about?" My eyes widened, and I bit my bottom lip to fight the tremble.
"No," I whispered truthfully. Before he'd helped me shower like nothing more than a nursemaid, I might have thought the darkened gaze as he stared at me nestled in his bed could be lust. But following those actions, there was no way that could be possible.
"You will," he said simply, grabbing the television remote off the nightstand and pressing a button. A flat screen dropped from the ceiling, and he put on a popular fantasy show for me to immerse myself in. "I'm going to go grab you something to eat, and some drinks to stash in the mini-fridge for a few days. Some of my guys are downstairs, working out a plan for canvasing to find Connor. They won't bother you up here, and I don't want you going down there."
"Ashamed of me?" I whispered, hating the way my voice betrayed how frayed the edges of my emotions were.
"Never, but you need to rest. I want your ass in my bed for at least two days. You need something and I'm not here, then you text me and I'll get it for you." He snagged the blanket, pressing a hand on my shoulder until I laid back in the bed and he helped prop pillows up behind me. Tucking me in sweetly, I sighed in contentment as the warmth of his forest green bedspread coated me. "Watch some tv. I'll be back in a few minutes." He dropped my phone on the nightstand.
“I really think we should talk about why you had my phone.” The words themselves sounded sleepy, but I tried to shove back the wave of exhaustion that came with being so cozy.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed the corner of my mouth, leaving me dumbfounded, and then I watched him strut for the door. The shoulders were my favorite body part on a man, and Lino's strong, broad shoulders did not disappoint. It was the sight of his ass in those sweats that made me want to take a bite out of it though.
"Stop staring at my ass!" he called as he rounded the doorway.
"Stop shaking it then, pussy tease!" I called back with a laugh.
???
Why did men always insist on interrupting reading a book just when it got interesting? I’d learned two things over the last two days I’d spent in Lino’s bed. First, he had a sixth sense for when I was about to read a sex scene and would put a stop to it.
Lino left the bed in favor of running into the adjacent bedroom. I turned my eyes away from the kindle in my hands to watch him go, but he was quick to return. He took the kindle out of my hands to set it on the nightstand.
"Lay down," he ordered, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I did what I was told anyway, because the second thing I’d learned was that Lino needed to tend to me. I didn't have the heart to tell him I thought it was probably more for his benefit than mine. With my head tipped back on the pillow, I exposed my throat to him. Trusting, never even considering the vulnerable position it put me in. There was no one that I trusted more than Lino.
So when his cream covered hands touched the cords of my throat gently, I didn't so much as flinch. I watched him, absorbing the way those deep eyes of his fixated on the bruises as if his touch alone could erase the stain Connor had left on my skin. When his hands reached around the column of my throat, he leaned forward to press his forehead to mine and our gazes finally collided. "I'm okay," I whispered, my voice hoarse with emotion even though I wanted to moan in pleasure as he worked the cream into the back of my neck. I was less sensitive there, more a muscle ache than strangulation pain, and the way his calloused fingers worked the flesh delicately was like pure heaven.
He held my eyes as he whispered, "I almost lost you."
"You could never lose me," I said back stupidly, giving away far more than I normally allowed about my own emotions for him. Safe distance, friendly distance had always been key to ignoring the way everything reached a crescendo when he touched me. With him in my face and his hands on me, there was no distance.
I would easily lose myself in him if I didn't get control over it.
And that would only lead to heartbreak.
He closed his eyes, taking the intensity of his gaze away enough that I felt like I could breathe. "Turn over," he whispered, pulling back to his knees. I wanted to argue, wanted to preserve my sanity by fighting back and putting some distance between us, but the promise of whatever else Lino might have in store for me was just too much to resist. I turned onto my stomach,
listening to another bottle popping open behind me. One of his hands slid inside my t-shirt, gliding over the flesh at the small of my back and inching it up to where my bra might have been if I'd worn one. When the other hand touched me, I gasped from the cool oil that coated those hands.
I was no stranger to massages from Lino, but they usually came through the barrier of clothing. To have his hands on my skin, rubbing up and down the sides of my spine gently and kneading the tight muscles, sent an all new intensity of sensation crashing through me.
Skin on skin, everything seemed more.
