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“But… it’s daytime.” Her eyebrows furrow together in confusion as she looks at the faint light filtering through the curtains.
“So? We’re not a couple from the fifties who only have sex at night. We’re a couple who can’t wait to get each other off.”
Her big blue eyes widen as her gaze wanders around, resting for a few seconds longer on my lips. She bites her own lower lip, and I’m all set to give her what she’s begging me for with those lust-filled eyes. But our excitement is short lived, as we’re interrupted by a knock on the door. I get up and put on my track pants, not bothering with a T-shirt. A young guy dressed in a hotel uniform rolls the food cart into the room.
I call Marr through the curtained glass door separating the living space and bed. “Would you like to have breakfast in bed or on the balcony?”
My girl, dressed in her pink shorts and T-shirt, saunters into the room. “Balcony, if that’s not much of a problem.”
“Not at all, ma’am. If you give me two minutes, I’ll set up your breakfast table.” The young man rolls his cart to the balcony, leaving us alone.
“You are proving me all wrong, babe.” I place a kiss on her neck, enjoying her shiver when my lips touch her toasty skin.
“What do you mean?” She looks at me under her lashes. Her coyness, even after our night together, turns me fucking on.
“I thought yesterday was the best day of my life, but then this morning I woke up wrapped around you, and I’m wondering what I want more, to sleep with you in my arms or to wake up beside you.”
“I don’t care, because I’d like to have both.” Her small hands stroke my chest before she kisses just above my heart.
Her simple action sends a rush of adrenaline through my body. I feel beyond loved and cherished under her shy affection. I don’t think I’ve ever woken up this happy and rested. Caressing her cheeks, I reply, “You speak to my heart, couch girl.”
“Excuse me, sir. Your breakfast is ready. I wish you both a wonderful day.” The room service guy steps away from the balcony door, giving us a glimpse of the breakfast laid out on a small table with fresh lilies and red candles. I grab some bills from my wallet and thank him for the extra effort.
We eat our meal in comfortable silence, and when I take the last sip of my coffee, I look up at the sky, which still isn’t clear. Black clouds loom with the threat of more rain.
“What do you want to do today?” I ask Marr, who’s curled up like a kitten in her chair.
“Dunno,” she lazily replies, stretching her arms just enough to get my cock’s attention. “Can we stay in?”
“And do what?” I ask in my most innocent voice.
“Talk.” She pouts, looking as adorable as she is. “I love listening to you talk and learning more about you.” She pauses before whispering, “Though I wish…there were more happy things.” Some of that cheer evaporates from her face.
“Come here.” When she takes my outstretched hand, I pull her on my lap, where she fits perfectly, resting her head on my chest. I stroke her arm up and down. She feels so good and warm nestled against me.
“It’s okay, Marr. See how far we’ve all come?”
After a long silence she asks, “What does the name mean?” When I look at her in confusion, she explains, “The tattoo. There are a few more letters written before your name.”
I take a heavy breath, not overly excited with this discussion at such an early hour. But I know how much this means to her.
“When Ashcroft Miller—Beast—took us in and legally became our guardian, I wanted to start a new life. I wanted to wipe out all the memories of my life before, or at least I hoped for that.”
Her brows knit in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Zander is not my birth name.” There’s no way she can’t feel my body tensing underneath her.
“You know, my name is also not my birth name. At least not what my parents would have thought, if they would have thought of any,” she whispers, resting her head back on my chest. There’s no missing the hint of longing in her voice.
“Do you think about them?”
She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.” Hiding her face in the crook of my neck, she murmurs, “I don’t think about them, because I’m scared of my thoughts. There is no good memory that will guilt me when I curse them.” Looking at me with eyes that are so sad they almost gut me, she whispers, “There’s no explanation in this world that can make it right. What happened to you, me, and your brothers was wrong, Zander. It shouldn’t have happened. People should have protected us, loved us, rather than leaving us in the wild among savages.”
“Do you remember anything?” I ask warily.
She shakes her head, hiding her face in my chest. Her tears are hot on my chest.
“I love you, Marr, if that’s any consolation.” I hate to see her hurting, but I know there’s nothing I can do that will make the past pain go away.
