Page 165 of Does It Hurt?


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His hand slides through my curls, fisting them tightly as he deepens the kiss, stealing my soul with every swipe of his tongue.

I understand why he never let anyone have a taste of him. They would become addicted, and he’d never be able to free himself from their clutches.

His teeth clamp on my bottom lip, drawing the sensitive flesh into his mouth and sucking. I moan as he releases my lip, only to come back for more, curling his tongue in my mouth and sending electricity down the column of my throat.

By the time he pulls away, I’m bereft of oxygen, and I’m dazed as he resumes kissing the corner of my mouth and traveling down my neck.

“I think we should skip the boat and stay in bed today,” I say breathlessly, sliding my hands along his freshly shaved head. It’s back to short spikes again, and it feels incredible against my palms.

He draws up, staring down at me with an intensity that has my heart tripping over itself in its pursuit to break free of its cage.

“So we’ll go tomorrow then,” he states.

“Oh, darn,” I drawl. “I have a thing tomorrow. Rain check?”

“Bella, I won’t ever put us in danger again. Nothing will happen to you.”

I twist my lips. I haven’t been out on the boat since the wreck, deciding to take my time. There’s a fear that karma hasn’t finished with me yet, but an even larger part of me won’t let me run anymore.

I’ve found that facing my fears is far more invigorating.

“Fine. But there is one thing I want to do first today. And then you can throw me to the sharks where I will perish via heart attack, okay?”

He shakes his head at my dramatics but backs away.

“Go now. I’ll be waiting for you at the harbor at noon.”

“Well, I’ll be damned! And here I thought I was the elusive one.”

The voice brings an instant smile to my face, and before I know it, I’m running to the bus stop. My neon pink flip-flops clacking on the pavement as I rush up to Simon.

I’ve been checking the bus stop for weeks but haven’t seen him. I needed to wait until the situation with the police was sorted first and then gave myself time to heal. I didn’t want Simon to see me bruised and broken—I wanted him to see me better than before I shipwrecked on that island.

Before he can get another word out, I’m sitting on the bench and wrapping my arms around his neck, resting my head on his shoulder as I breathe in his salty ocean scent, with a hint of Old Spice.

He chuckles, his entire body vibrating as he pats my hands.

“Well, I missed ya too, young lady.”

“Sorry,” I say, pulling away. “I just never thought I’d see you again.”

“Well, this town ain’t that big. Only so many places I can go but down.”

I roll my eyes, grinning at him. “You’re not going to Hell, Simon.”

He snorts. “My ex-wife would tell ya different.” He leans back, tipping his nose up to inspect me as if he’s staring at me through a magnifying glass.

“What happened to you?”

I scratch my head, debating how much I should divulge.

“I got lost for a little while. But I’m home now,” I settle on.

“Uh-huh,” he says slowly, his eyes dipping to the brace on my wrist. It’s mostly healed now, but it’s still a little weak. I’m on the mend, physically and mentally.

Most nights, Enzo and I battle who can wake each other with a brain demon first, but we have someone to reach out to, and though neither of us is fully healed, we’re not alone.

“Looks like you’re ready for your next tattoo.”

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