But I want to.
His tongue slips between my lips, stealing my words away, and his pace quickens, his strokes becoming more hurried. Parker dips to my ear and whispers with command, “Now, I want you to come all over my cock.”
Oh, God.
His words alone have me buckling with bliss, quaking beneath him as my one hand grips the back of his neck, while the other tugs his hair. Skin on skin, bodies slick with sweat, grunts and pants and moans severing the silence of the dark room. It’s undiluted passion—pure intimacy.
And it’s my undoing.
Parker slams into me, hitting so, so deep, growling with need, and I feel myself peaking, the tingles swelling into the ultimate crescendo.
And when the mighty waves of ecstasy claim me, I cry out, loud and unhinged, holding him tighter and closer than ever before. My nails dig into the nape of his neck as stars burst behind my eyes and my body detonates in his arms.
Parker clutches me to his chest, gathering me in a fierce embrace as he follows behind me, groaning into my ear as his body tremors with the ripples of his release.
As the shocks flicker and fade, he collapses on top of me, shifting his weight to the side and pulling me close in a protective hold. His erratic breaths beat against my temple, and I dance my fingers along his upper arm, feeling satiated, fulfilled, and adored.
Loved.
Parker slips out of me, but he doesn’t move away—he only pulls me farther to him until I’m curled against his chest, drifting away.
Before my dreams steal me from the moment, I hear him whisper into my hair, “I love you.”
I fall asleep with a smile, knowing that for the first time in sixteen months, I’m finally and fully at peace.
Daybreak spills in through dark curtains, tickling my sleepy eyelids.
Stretching out my legs, my toes graze against his toned calves, and memories from the night before assault my senses with currents of euphoria.
A smile draws on my mouth as I blink awake, opening my eyes to bright sheaths of sunlight filtering through the small bedroom. Craning my neck, I glance beside me, finding Parker lying on his back with the bedsheet pulled up to his trim hips.
My heart lurches.
He’s fast asleep, only partially covered, his scars on full display.
Swallowing, I inch in closer, feeling like an intruder.
Did he mean for me to see him?
He would have put his shirt back on… right?
It’s not difficult to talk myself into raking my gaze over him, soaking up his beautiful, tarnished skin, and moving in until my fingers lift and graze along the evidence of his terrible abuse. Tears sting my eyes, my throat closing up.
He’s covered in scars, most of them the size of a cigarette cherry, but some larger, more jagged and cruel. My stomach twists with anguish, with blinding empathy, and all I want to do is hold him tight and never let him go.
I heave in a shaky breath, dragging my index finger up the length of his stomach until I reach his muscled chest. More little scars. More horror stories. More—
Wait.
Something in me goes still, my eyes scanning over him with confusion. Trying to make sense of something that doesn’t make any sense at all.
My insides pitch with anxiety. The warm tingles swimming through me turn to ice, freezing my veins. With a shaky hand, I sweep my fingers over the planks of his chest, as if I’m trying to uncover something that isn’t there.
No.
This… can’t be right.
Parker stirs beneath my frantic, roaming hand, his lashes fluttering as he stretches out his limbs. He inhales a slow breath, lazily coming back to reality, when all of a sudden, his whole body tenses and his eyes pop open, registering my presence. Processing my discovery.
We lock eyes.
Mine spear him with stunned panic, while his… shimmer with apology.
He stares at me, his gaze like a warzone—but less like he’s running into combat, and more like he’s crawling his way off the battlefield, beaten down and bloody.
This doesn’t make sense.
He’s Zephyr, I know he’s Zephyr—I saw him on the camera. He told me things only Zephyr would know.
This doesn’t make any sense.
Parker sits up straight, and I jump back, away from him, almost as if he just burned me. Disbelief surges through me as my eyes dart back to his chest, still searching for something that doesn’t exist.
A cry breaks loose, and I cup my hand around my mouth, realization sucker-punching me right in the gut.
He lied.
Parker has been lying to me this whole time.
Seventy-nine scars…
Seventy-nine scars, and not a single one of them is mine.
Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth. – Buddha
—THIRTY-THREE—
I never meant for this to happen.
This wasn’t deception by design, or a ploy to break her heart. If I could relive every cigarette burn, cruel word, sharp slap, and dark, hungry night alone in that closet, I would—I would relive it a million times over, just to erase this fucking godforsaken look in her eyes.
Her betrayal feels tangible; I can taste it on my tongue.
And it tastes so much worse, more bitter, than I ever could have imagined.
Melody scurries away from me as I sit up and try to reel in my chaotic thoughts. I meant for her to see me this morning. I knew it would all be over, come sunrise. I should have told her the truth last night, the moment I saw her standing on my front porch, but the coward in me won out. The man. The man who somehow broke through the rubble and ruin, all because of her.
The man who fell in love.
And I know how goddamn selfish it was to ask for one more night when I should have told her the truth the moment I found out who she was. But I needed to feel her one last time. I needed to be inside her, soaking up her warmth and storing it away, so I could keep her with me long after she’d left.
Her two hands fist at the bed covers, drawing them up over her nude body. Shielding herself from my guilty eyes. “Is this a trick?” she whispers in a trembling breath, still inching backwards on the mattress, putting more and more distance between us.
My jaw clenches tight, my teeth rattling. “Melody… let me explain.”
“Please do.”
I scrub a palm down my jaw, my eyes closing as I try to locate words. I should be more prepared, but my thoughts are scattered, and my throat feels tight. It’s impossible to prepare for loss—especially when you finally have something worth losing. “I had no idea it would ever go this far,” I say softly, but the desperation is laced into every word. “You were just supposed to be an outlet. An anonymous, faceless e-mail address.”
Her voice quivers. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t…” My head drops back against the headboard as I try to regroup. “I never came out and said I had your husband’s heart. Not once. You assumed, and I… I just went with it.”
Melody’s face twists with scorn, her grip tightening on the bedsheet. “You deceived me.”
“Fuck, I didn’t know you were you,” I proclaim. “When I finally figured it out, I was in too goddamn deep. I had feelings for you. You have no idea what it’s like to finally fucking feel something for another human being after three decades of just existing—of just wanting life to end, so I could escape this burden, this emotionless prison.” Catching my breath, I toss my legs over the side of the bed and storm over to her in my boxers, throwing my arms in the air. “Jesus, Melody, look at me. I’m a fucking joke. I finally had something good in my life, something that made me want to do better, be better… I couldn’t throw that away.”