Page 45 of Spinner's Luck

His hands roamed, mapping me, owning me, reminding me that I was alive. That I wasn’t trapped in that endless, suffocating nightmare.

And I let him.

I let the fire of him consume me.

I let him burn every dark memory to ash.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE FIRST THINGI noticed when I woke wasthe warmth pressed against me.

She was curled against my chest, her breath slow and steady, her body soft and relaxed in sleep. The early morning light filtered through the window, casting golden streaks across her skin, making her look almost fragile.Almost.

Lucy wasn’t fragile. She wasn’t innocent, either. But in this moment, tucked against me, she looked like something I’d never let the world touch again.

My fingers moved without thought, sliding through her hair, tracing the strands that framed her face. Silky. Soft. Dangerous. Because the more I touched her, the more I wanted to keep touching her.

How the fuck was I supposed to go back to normal if she left again?

My eyes drifted to the dresser, to the spinner sitting there, waiting. I used to think nothing could ground me the way it did. But Lucy was starting to prove me wrong.

She shifted slightly, a small sound slipping past her lips as she stretched, her body pressing closer for just a second before she stilled. A quiet snore broke the silence.

I smirked.

Tough as hell when she was awake. Soft as sin when she wasn’t.

How could I ever let go of this?

The thought tightened my chest, an unspoken fear curling in my gut like barbed wire. I wasn’t the type to hold on to women—never had been. But Lucy? She had her fucking claws in me, and I never wanted her to let go.

As if she could hear my thoughts, she stirred, stretching like a damn cat before her eyes fluttered open. Sleepy. Beautiful.

Her gaze locked onto mine, stealing the breath straight from my lungs.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice husky, groggy, curling around me like a slow burn. She nuzzled deeper into my chest, her warmth sinking into my skin.

I ran my fingers through her hair, savoring the feel of her. “Mornin’,” I murmured back, my voice sounding rough.

We didn’t move. Didn’t rush. Just stayed there, lost in a peace that came from us, like the world could burn and it wouldn’t matter, not as long as we had this... had each other.

Then she lifted her head, her eyes searching mine, and something inside me shifted.

This wasn’t some casual thing.

Wasn’t just sparks and late-night heat.

This was love, rough around the edges but real as fuck.

Should’ve scared me half to death. Maybe it did.

But damned if I could pull myself away.

She didn’t speak at first, just watched me, reading me the way only she could. Then, finally, she whispered, “I want you again.”

The rawness in her voice cut through me, sharp and deliberate. She wasn’t just asking for sex. She was asking for me.

Right here. Right now.

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