AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m not saying it was okay.” His lips graze my forehead. “I’m saying just now, for the first time in my life, I thought all of it was worth it if it meant winding up here. With you.”
My heart jolts, and I knock over one of Rowan’s firefly jars. It hits the wood platform of the pavilion and rolls an inch before the rubber band snaps off the lid, freeing the tiny creatures in a gleaming cascade. Specks of light reflect in Rowan’s dark eyes while he watches.
When his gaze slips back to me, the touch of a wry smile softens his mouth. “Am I irritating your commitment issues with my unyielding affection?”
“A little,” I whisper, breathless. “I… It’s…” Swallowing, I give myself a moment to remember how to speak. “I told you my secrets about how I use people, and then I shattered your trust. You shouldn’t want anything to do with me. You should come to your senses. The truth where I’m concerned isn’t pretty.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
“While you’re sitting here—horrified by how well you’ve manipulated me into caring about you—I’m contemplating all the ways I can return the favor. Once we’re even, you won’t have anything to feel guilty about, right?” He hooks a finger beneath my too short skirt, pulls it down over as much of my thighs as it can cover, and kisses me. “You’re allowed to regret making me want you, but only until I’ve made you want me more.”
My hand finds its way to his chest, slips down the contorted ridges, and toys with the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric like a lifeline.
Husky and deep, he whispers, “Do you want to touch me?”
“Rowan…”
“You may, if exploring the horrors of my past interests you.”
I shudder, planting my face at the crook of his neck. Voice tight, I whisper, “I want to make them pay. For every mark. For every moment. For the rest of their lives. Death is too kind. They should grow old, suffering at my hand.”
His arms wrap around me, pull me ever closer. His fingertips dance up my arm, unravel mine from his shirt, and place my palm flat against his bare, mangled flesh. “I think I have better things for your hands to do.”
Everything inside me trembles. Pulling back, I find his eyes as he lifts a firefly from my hair.
The small creature takes flight from his nail, gleaming between us a moment before its gone.
I think…
I think I want him.
I think I may always want him.
Even when all the cards in this hand are dealt and there are no pieces left on the board.
I will want him.
“Are you sure?” I trace a ridge of his abs until it knots.
“Positive.”
“You know what it sounds like you’re saying, right?”
“Princess.” He scoops me into his arms and stands. “I’m fourteen years older than you. I know exactly what I’m suggesting.”
Every exposed inch of my flesh blazes while I search his eyes.
“I’m not trying to manipulate you into doing anything by using the opportunity to peruse my scar tissue. Given your interest in jars of fingers, I feel as though that should be said.”
A weak laugh escapes me, and I bury my face against his chest, close, not close enough. “That makes me sound awful, like I thrive on the macabre.”
“Lucky me. I might just be your type.”
I hate how right he is. I hate how the only thing in my head is an idea of kissing every twisted part of him until our skin melts together and we’re a tapestry of bad decisions.
My arms coil around his chest. His biting scent fills my lungs. I draw it in until it’s so strong I can taste it. Then I whisper, “Fine.”
