AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He brushes a thread off the sheet. “I grew up in a fucked-up house. Lost my mother when I was eight. My father and brother were monsters—the worst kind of monsters. You know the story.” He sighs. “If Antonio hadn’t pulled me out of there, I wouldn’t have survived.”
I do know the story, and my heart weeps whenever I think about the little boy stuck in hell, tormented by people who were supposed to love him.
This time, I’m the one who takes care of him. I reach for his hand and lace my fingers through his. There’s no pity because he’d hate that from me. I squeeze my hand so he knows I’m here for him.
“It doesn’t matter what kind of balm you use,” he says softly, “those scars never fully heal. I cope by surrounding myself with people I trust implicitly—or that I can control. No one gets close to me who I don’t fully trust. No one. I keep everyone else at arm’s length.”
He’s not talking about physical proximity. He’s talking about the people he lets into his inner orbit—and his heart.
The pieces start to come together, and the picture that emerges is not a bucolic scene, but rather a stormy canvas with black clouds and torrential rain. “You don’t trust me.”
He runs the back of his free hand along the contours of his chin, like he’s buying time. I find that when one needs this kind of time, it’s to create a word-salad cushion to blunt a blow.
I steel myself, erecting a hasty wall, because the blow he’s preparing to levy will be directed at me, and it’s likely to nick an organ inside my chest if I’m caught off guard. Although I’m not sure even a carefully constructed steel wall would help—not now.
“You’re unpredictable. Impulsive. Reckless. You went clubbing with sex traffickers—even though you sensed there was a problem. And you still haven’t been completely honest with me about why you’re in Porto.”
And now I’m less likely to tell you. It’ll confirm everything you believe about me.
“You were going to let me fuck you against the shower wall like an animal,” he says, anger and exasperation in his voice. “It was your first time. Do you know what kind of damage I could have done if I’d missed the pain in your face? If I hadn’t had your head tipped back, I wouldn’t have seen it.”
“I would have survived,” I reply churlishly, letting go of his hand, but he doesn’t let me pull it away.
“My goal for sex isn’t that my partner merely survives. But thanks for that.”
I lower my eyes, because he’s right about the sex, and I’m embarrassed. I didn’t see it as much of a risk. But even if I had, I would have taken it, because I believed it was the only way he’d go through with it—and because I didn’t want him to think I was an inexperienced little girl. We’ve already discussed this. I’m not apologizing again.
“I’m not talking about tears and bruising that eventually heal. I’m talking about up here.” Rafael points at my temple. “Those scars can dog you for a long time,” he murmurs. “Sometimes forever. I don’t want that for you.”
I don’t want it for me, either, but this conversation has veered off into places that have no answers. At least not the answer to my question.
“Where do we go now, Rafa? Is this it?” The words don’t emerge whiny or needy. My voice is low, but strong, like a woman who can manage the response—whatever it might be. Still, I hold my breath, waiting for an answer.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. His gaze is probing, and eventually the silence becomes so loud and uncomfortable that I begin to backpedal. “I don’t care if this is it.” I flash him a fake smile. “I mean, the road test was amazing, but you should see my vibrator. It works like a demon, and it doesn’t require awkward conversations.”
There’s no sarcastic retort. No smirk. Only more of the tortured silence that slices into my self-confidence.
“I wouldn’t have laid a finger on you after the shower if I thought there wasn’t at least a short future for us. And I don’t believe for one second that fucking vibrator has anything on my cock. And neither do you.” He pinches my nipple and jumps out of bed before I can return the favor.
A short future is more than I expected him to say. Much more. But even more than a sliver of hope, it’s an answer. I’m strong enough to deal with almost anything that comes my way—if I can understand it. What I don’t do well with is a man who runs, even when I know he wants to stay.
“They’re expecting me at Sirena,” he says, pulling on his shorts, “but let’s have something to eat, first, and you can tell me what’s going on with your father.”
The conversation every woman wants to have after sex.
Rafael’s gaze lingers on my exposed breasts, and despite the mention of my father, my pussy flutters like a cheeky bitch.
“Why don’t you get dressed, while I heat up dinner.”
I don’t want to be stuck here alone. Giana and Sabio are nice, but I hardly know them.
“Can I come to Sirena with you? It’s starting to get a bit claustrophobic here. I’ll hang out in your office. I won’t be any trouble.”
He sits on the bed beside me, and I already know the answer is no before he utters a word.
“I’d like nothing more than to stay here tonight with you, take a nap, then drag you into the shower where you’re better prepared, now, to do what we started earlier. You can’t come to Sirena. A Molotov cocktail was thrown at the building today, and it caused significant damage.”
My heart stops. A Molotov cocktail. Simple to make, but they can cause unimaginable destruction.
