Page 79 of Unexpected Heroine

The way he’s looking at me makes me substantially less horny. There’s pity in his eyes, mixed with a hint of disgust.

Or maybe I’m simply seeing what I feel about myself, reflecting back at me.

“I’m not broken,” I blurt out unprompted. My chin quivers like a pathetic sap. “Please don’t treat me like I am.”

“Baby, I know you’re not broken.” He shakes his head, his throat bobbing with a forced swallow. “I don’t want you to rush it. It’s okay to take a few days to heal. Not only your body, but also your mind.”

“A few days?” I scoff. “Is that all I need? Wow. Golly, that’s terrific news.” I cut off his objection. “I’m so glad you have all the answers and know exactly what I need after what happened. To. Me. It happened to me. So I get to decide how to fix it.”

His forehead wrinkles deepen. “You’re upset, and you deserve to be. I don’t wanna fight with you, sugar bear.”

“Then don’t fight me. Fuck me. Make me feel good. Please, babe. I just want to feel normal. I need new memories to cancel out the bad.”

He tugs in a huge swell of air, closes his eyes, and clamps his teeth over his bottom lip.

Desperate for the relief he could give me—the respite from the pain and sadness souring my aura for days—I skim my hands over his shoulders to pull him close.

He opens his eyes, his gaze burning into mine. I wish I could feel bad for causing all the hurt clouding his irises. But all I can focus on is the anguish searing my insides. And he’s the salve that can ease the sting.

Hovering my mouth over his, I whisper, “Please. I’m begging you. I need this. Please do this for me.”

With my vision glassy from unshed tears, I wait for his reply. Hoping for a yes, but then praying this isn’t a mistake that triggers me, leaving me curled up in the fetal position.

No. Fuck that.

Violet Holt does not break.

Chapter 15

Only you

TOMER

Never have I been this conflicted in my thirty-seven years.

She needs more time.

Physically. Mentally.

She damn sure isn’t emotionally prepared for sex.

But she’s begging me—literally begging—with utter desperation painted on her battered face. The tears welling in her eyes break me. Down to my marrow, I long to ease her ache.

I hope this isn’t a colossal mistake because I’m powerless not to give her what she’s asking for. She can use my body.

With reluctance, I acquiesce. “Okay.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

She wipes her tears, then places a watery kiss on my lips. “Thank you, babe.”

“Get on your back, sweetness.”

“Uh-uh. I want to be on top.”

“Not yet. I need to ensure you’re ready.”

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