Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
She leaned forward and kissed him again, tasting his lips and his tongue and then whispering against his mouth, “Let’s make better memories than that one. A whole slew of them. Life is unpredictable and sometimes shorter than we realize. And I don’t think either of us, especially us, should waste a moment of it.”
“You’ve already given me a whole slew of them,” he said. “Just being here with you is enough to last me a lifetime.”
But she didn’t think he knew the half of it, not really, so she sat up, came to her feet, and reached her hand out for his. He looked at it for a beat, then two, and finally grasped it and stood. She tipped her head back, and they stared at each other for a moment in the last light creeping through the trees. There was an understanding in that look. And a promise of what was about to happen between them.
Sam took her hand in his, and they began walking back home.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The cottage felt like a completely different place than it’d been when he’d very first woken up in it, when he’d thought he’d lost all sanity and wanted to stay in the haze of madness because that was where she was. The furniture was the same. The walls were still made of logs. The same pictures remained on the walls, and the bed still held the same blankets he’d slept under the night before.
But everything was different. Because he was different. And now it wasn’t simply a cottage. It was the place where Autumn had healed him, where she’d pressed her naked skin against his as steam had filled the air, and when he looked out the window, he could see the woods where she’d kissed him and he’d kissed her back.
He could die now, he realized. He could die happy.
Yet now, more than ever, he didn’t want to die at all.
He wanted to live. And breathe. And look at her and talk to her and kiss her again and again and again.
But he was scared too. He was scared because he’d never allowed himself to be with a woman. Not because he didn’t crave it; he did. But because he’d been trained and conditioned to hurt, to conquer, to make women scream and beg and cry.
He’d been taught that sex was about dominance and that men like him should take, whether it was offered or not. They’d given him drugs and then sat him before a screen where he’d watched movie after movie. Reality and fantasy had melded together. He’d become desensitized to the screams and the blood. He was built to be a monster, and that was what he’d become.
Sometimes those visions still came to mind. So he gave himself pleasure when he had the need, and he didn’t allow the possibility that he’d lose control and even come close to making a woman plead for mercy.
But now Autumn was standing by the bed, looking at him with both heat and expectation in her eyes. He was amazed, the same way he’d been all week, every time he thought of how she’d touched his wet skin under the warm swirling steam. But he was scared. He wanted her so desperately he was shaking with it, but he was afraid he’d hurt her, and that mattered more to him than satisfying his raging lust.
She held out her hand and he went to her, unable to resist. He couldn’t figure out how he’d arrived in this place. Not this house but with her, looking at him with desire, wanting him. “Is this a dream?” he asked.
She laughed softly. She was so beautiful. The woman standing before him was poetry itself, as though that journal had birthed her and not the other way around. He smiled because of his rambling thoughts, the way his brain was tripping all over itself.
“No,” she answered. “Not a dream.” She stepped back slightly and pulled her shirt off and then unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them to the floor. “I want to touch you in a way that clears the shadows that appear when I’ve touched you before today. I want you to feel pleasure that lingers, that makes you feel like the man you are. Will you let me?”
Sam’s mouth was dry, but he managed a nod. He reached out and took her hand. He could hardly bear to look at her. He wanted her. He yearned for her touch. But still his fear remained. “Autumn,” he gasped. “I need for you to tie me up.”
She ceased moving completely, confusion coming over her face. “Tie you up?” She looked stricken. “I told you I’d never do that.”
“This is different.”
“Sam, I trust you.”
“I don’t trust me, Autumn. Please. Please. I beg you.”
She searched his eyes for several seconds, and he didn’t blink. He needed this. Not just for her but for himself. He had never let anyone other than his doctors touch his body, and at the end, he hadn’t even allowed that. They simply hadn’t cared. They’d defeated him with straps and needles, and he’d woken confused and in agony. Alone. He didn’t know what he might do if he lost control, but she wanted this, and he did too. She’d awakened something in him when she’d willingly touched his naked skin, so he was willing to try.