The Life You Stole (Life Duet 2)

“Good morning.” He stayed in the doorway, shoulder pressed to one side.

I pushed myself up to a sitting position, cringing a bit.

“Sore?”

My gaze shot to his. I wish I could have seen a flicker of regret on his face … but I didn’t. If anything, he looked pretty proud of himself.

I rubbed my wrists. They weren’t bruised or marked in any way, but they were a bit tender to touch. “Nope. I’m good.”

I lied.

Seriously … every part of my body had been thoroughly enjoyed by him before he left me for dead. Okay, maybe not dead, but I’m pretty sure at some point I just passed out from exhaustion.

“You?” I tipped my chin up, feigning confidence and strength.

He pulled the neck of his shirt to the side, exposing some impressive bite marks, but not nearly as impressive as the carved lines he showed me when he turned and lifted his shirt, revealing the marred skin on his back.

“Not bad. Does it hurt?”

He released his shirt and turned back toward me, grunting a tiny breath through his nose while maintaining his shit-eating grin. “No.”

I nodded slowly, giving him a tightlipped smile.

“I made waffles. You coming?”

Standing sounded like a great idea, my backside was sore, but I sure wasn’t going to let Ronin know that. I eased out of bed, trying hard to keep a straight face. It was all fun and games until real life demanded things like … functioning body parts.

When your husband goes weeks without getting an erection for you, holding you, kissing you … you don’t say no when things start working properly again. And that was why I couldn’t move. I didn’t say no. Not once.

Not to anything.

Part of it was my own desire, my own need to feel as close as possible to Ronin. The other part, that made me completely submissive, was the look on his face every time I gave him a nod, a yes, and did exactly what he wanted me to do.

“You dressed me.” I eyed him while slipping on my robe, hoping my statement might distract him from seeing my tiny grimaces.

“I did. I cleaned you up. Forced you to take two ibuprofen and sang you a lullaby.”

I tied my robe sash and walked into his waiting arms, glancing up at him while wearing a grin. “A lullaby, huh?”

He nodded, grabbing my ass, forcing me to grimace. He eased his grip, grinning as if confirmation of my discomfort pleased him.

“Sadist.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

There it was … the look. It shone in his eyes like a beacon of hope, silently begging for me to say yes. For me to let him say it—those three words.

“Don’t.” I shook my head.

“You have to let me say it.”

“I will.” I lifted onto my toes and kissed the corner of his mouth while whispering, “Just not today. Now, feed me. I’m starving.”

Ronin led me to the kitchen by taking my hand the way he took my hand the day we met, just like he took my heart. Six years later, I continued to give him both.

“You should be hungry, after all that alcohol and … stuff last night.” He shot me a grin.

Stuff. It was definitely the stuff that made me feel famished.

I loved the stuff and the man serving me breakfast.

I loved the two kids on the floor, rolling themselves up in blankets like burritos. I loved the house, my job, Aspen, the start of fall, and my life.

On the days I wasn’t forced to think about Graham or acknowledge our past and our mutual connection to the present, I loved my life.

Every. Single. Second.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Two dozen roses arrived Monday at Clean Art.

“Who are they from?” Sophie clasped her hands at her chest and jumped up and down like they were for her. “I bet they’re from Ronin.”

No. They wouldn’t have been from him. Mr. Worst Gift Giver Ever.

Unless it was our anniversary or Valentine’s Day, which it wasn’t.

I pulled the note out of the envelope.

I opened myself up to you. I let you see the love—the good love and the ugly love. We will always be friends, and I will always wish it could be more. This is on me, not you. I should have said all that needed to be said before you found Ronin, before Lila came home from Europe. I’ll take you in my life any way I can have you. Please forgive me for ruining our lunch.

XO, Your Graham Cracker

“Well, who sent them?” Sophie prodded, trying to peer over my shoulder at the card.

I pulled it to my chest, every word a knife into my heart. He never referred to himself using my pet name for him. “Ronin,” I answered in a weak voice and nervous smile.

“Gah! You married the sweetest, sexiest man alive. It’s not fair.” A groan escaped with her long sigh as she went back to dusting the displays.