Sleeping with the Beast

I knew I had to apologize for what I said if I wanted to patch things up.

And I did. It was wrong of me to accuse him of anything, not after he’d saved my life and done nothing but prove himself, over and over again. I swam and swam until I climbed back out, dripping wet and exhausted. I collapsed onto a chair and dried myself off, lounging with my legs stretched out, staring at the ceiling, trying to find the words that would make everything okay again. The light teal tile clashed with my pink toenail polish and I wondered who chose these decorations, who put this whole world together, but then again, it didn’t matter—I was sure the Leones had someone for that, someone they could throw money at to make their life nice and easy.

The door opened, making me jump. I had a wild moment of panic where I was positive those guys from the Mt. Airy house were back again to finish the job, and I wrapped my towel around me like it could protect me from bullets.

Ren stepped into the room, his gaze sweeping around, until he landed on me.

I stared back at him and let out a breath.

“You’re up early,” he said. His voice echoed a little in the otherwise empty room. All that tile made the sound bounce around.

“I thought I’d get some exercise in.”

He nodded and didn’t move. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Wait,” I said before he could leave. “You don’t have to go.”

He tilted his head slightly, and his eyes dipped down to the towel I had wrapped around my body. I was suddenly very aware that I wore a bikini beneath it. It was the only thing Mona had brought for me at the mansion. He came further into the room and leaned up against the wall.

“I walked to Vincent yesterday,” he said.

“How’d that go?”

“About what you’d expect. But he confirmed my theory, at least.”

I felt a stab of vertigo. “Really?”

He looked concerned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

I waved him off. “It’s fine. I should’ve known. We’re trapped.”

“Not trapped, exactly. But for now, yeah, we’re stuck.”

I laughed a little and leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “God, this is so crazy. It’s like nowhere’s safe.”

“More like your family wants to keep you in places that are dangerous.” He came closer then sat down at the end of the lounge chair next to mine. We were inches away from each other. “About what you said.”

“Ren—”

“Just listen. I know you think nobody’s on your side, but I am.”

I stared at my hands, unable to meet his eye. “I know you are.”

“I hope you believe that, because it’s true.”

“I shouldn’t have said that yesterday. I was being— I’m having—” I couldn’t get the words out. I couldn’t explain to him the hole I felt like was swallowing me, how everything was anxiety and my every waking moment was spent wondering when the next attack was going to come.

I felt whiny and pathetic.

He leaned forward, down onto his knees, and spread my legs. I let out a surprised breath and leaned back on my hands. He moved closer, his body covering mine, and the towel fell down, exposing my breasts ever so slightly, still covered by the bikini top. He took the towel and pulled it away, slowly revealing the rest of me, and dropped it on the floor.

I felt so exposed and every part of me wanted to put that towel back on. There was a reason I came here so early in the morning. I was still ashamed of my scars, still self-conscious and hating my body, but the way he looked at me with fire in his eyes made something light up in the back of my mind, like fireworks in a cloudless night.

“You don’t need to explain,” he said. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know, but—”

He leaned forward and kissed my neck. Gently, softly, his lips barely brushing the skin. His hands rested on my hips, and I sucked in a breath, surprised, excited, terrified all at once.

“I’m on your side, and that’s all that matters,” he whispered. “Anything else, that’s behind us. I don’t care what you said, or what you thought. I care about here and now and what happens next.”

“I care about that too.”

He kissed upwards, more pressure each time, and I ran my hand through his hair until his lips met mine. I gasped into that kiss and he pulled me forward, pressing my body against his. I was still wet from the pool, but he didn’t seem to mind that I soaked his shirt. He kissed me, tongue against mine, lips so gentle it drove me wild, and I breathed him in, let his taste roll along my tongue. He held me there and seemed to luxuriate in me, and it made me feel sexy, like I hadn’t felt in a long time—maybe never before.