Page 82 of BounBound By Scars

I lifted my head just enough to look into her eyes. “And where was I,” I asked softly, “when Zarek, Logan, and Dylan went out? Where was I,Heer?”

Her other hand had found its way to the back of my neck, fingers tangled in my hair like she’d never let go.

And then I saw it hit her. The realization.

Her lips parted. “With me,” she whispered.

I chuckled, the sound rumbling against her throat. Her expression was priceless—equal parts awe and disbelief, like she hadn’t known she’d had me all along.

“But…” she started, stumbling over her words, “but men have needs.”

I leaned in again, burying my face in her neck, letting my tongue trail fire across her skin.

“You’re my need, Lia,” I murmured.

And I meant every damn word.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

I needed her. Every inch of her. Every sound, every breath, every shiver I’d dreamed of for years—I wanted them now, from her. No more hiding behind jokes or longing from a distance.

“I love you,” she whispered suddenly, her voice soft and fierce all at once.

I froze, blinking down at her.

She’d never said those words to me before. I’d known—of course I had. Her speech made sure of that. But hearing them like this, unprompted, cut through everything I thought I was prepared for.

I grinned, trying to lighten the moment. “I know.”

She frowned at me. “I’min lovewith you.”

I let out a slow breath, reverent. “Great,” I murmured, tugging her top over her head, revealing soft, perfect skin and a dark blue bra that made my brain short-circuit.

She didn’t shy away. Didn’t cover herself. She just glared, daring me to look and never forget.

I took off my own shirt as she reached back and unclasped her bra.

“I’ve been in love with you foryears,” she snapped, almost angrily.

The bra was officially off and I bit my lower lip as I nodded.

“That’s fantastic,” I said, half-dazed, half-starving.

Next thing I knew, the bra hit me square in the face.

“You—” she huffed, full of attitude and heat. “Behenchod.”

I laughed, low and wicked. “In a minute, baby. Not yet.”

We were both stripping now, clothes flying in opposite directions like we’d done it a million times before.

Maybe we had imagined it a million times before. I definitely had.

But this wasn’t about sex.

This was about finally loving her—with nothing between us. No noise. No pretense. Just her and me, stripped bare of everything except what was real.

Amelia Desmond.

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