Exposed (Ethan Frost 3)

There’s only one choice to make here, only one thing to say if I want to keep her safe.

“I can’t let it go, baby. I just can’t. Brandon has to pay for what he did to you.”

Her eyes widen, like she wasn’t expecting me to say that. Wasn’t expecting me to tell her the truth. Which is on me—I’m the one who has put her through hell these last few weeks because I didn’t want to hurt her. And because I was too much of a fucking coward not to lie to her. Too afraid that she would leave me to trust her with all the shit we have between us. With the past that’s come back to haunt us both.

“I don’t want revenge,” she tells me. “Not now, not after all this time. I just want to move on. To pretend it never happened.”

“I can’t do that. I know you want me to. I know you don’t want to talk about what Brandon did to you, don’t want to even think about it. And I respect that. I do. But he hurt you. He raped you. And he got away with it. Worse, I helped him get away with it—”

“And I’ve accepted that.” She grabs my hand, clutches it to her chest. I can feel her heart beating strong and steady beneath the surface. “I’ve moved on—”

“You may have, but I can’t. Not now, when he’s running for public office, living his life like it doesn’t matter. Like what he did before this moment is nothing. And I. Can’t. Let. That. Go. Not when you’re—”

I break off before I can say it. Before I tell her that she’s broken. Not ruined, like she’s feared for so long. Not destroyed. But definitely damaged. Definitely broken, with all the jagged cracks exposed.

Except her face falls like I’ve already said it. Or worse, like she has. We’ve been over this ground so many times before. How she’s trying to be okay but doesn’t truly believe that she ever will be.

I don’t accept that. Chloe is strong, resilient, bright. She can do anything she puts her mind to. Even this. Especially this.

I want to fix her. I know she thinks that’s not my job, but I love her and I hate seeing her bleed with every breath she takes. Hate the nightmares that slash her wide open as she sleeps. Hate even more the way she squares her shoulders, lifts her chin as she puts on her armor. Armor she should never have to wear.

Armor I can see her donning right now.

“What have you done?” she demands.

“Nothing yet.” This, too, is the truth.

Her eyes narrow. “So what are you planning on doing, then?”

“I don’t have an actual plan yet.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true, though. I’m still trying to put all the pieces together.”

She pulls me closer then, squeezes my hands more tightly in hers. “Ethan, please. You need to let it go.”

“You know I would do almost anything for you, but there’s no way I can do that.”

Her beautiful eyes fill with tears. She blinks them away, but still my stomach drops. The last thing I want to do is hurt her more than she already has been.

“I don’t care what happened before. It doesn’t matter—”

“It matters to me.” I press my mouth against hers in a frantic kiss designed as much by necessity as desire. Her lips part under mine as Chloe opens herself to me. As she gives herself to me. Completely. Absolutely. Eternally.

The knowledge almost brings me to my knees, as does the wave of desire that washes over me. Swamping me. Flattening me. What is it about this woman that makes me feel over and over again like I’ve been axed by a too-powerful wave?

I start to dive in, to willingly drown in her sweetness, but I can feel the tension in her. The pain she’s trying so hard to bury. It brings me back from the desperate edge of desire like nothing else could.

“Don’t pretend with me,” I tell her. “You can pretend with anybody else, can pretend with yourself if that’s what gets you through the day, but don’t pretend with me. Not about something that hurts you the way this does.”

“Life hurts, Ethan. Everything hurts. That’s just the way it is. I can live with that—I am living with it. But you’re poking at the wound, pouring salt into it instead of letting it scab over. Nothing’s going to come from that but a lot of scars.”

She lets go of my hands, then wraps her arms around my neck instead. And pulls me down to press soft, wet kisses across my cheek. Along the line of my jaw.

“We’re flying to Vegas in a few hours. We’re getting married. It’s a fresh start, for both of us. Can’t that be enough?”

Her words arrow straight through me and my dick grows harder still at the thought that she’ll be my wife in less than twenty-four hours.