Page 20 of Martyr
When I glance over my shoulder, checking for Saint, my heart sinks.
He’s gone.
9REESE
Tem takesme back to her room. Sneaking through the shadows, keeping her close while hugging the wall, gives me strange flashbacks to my military training. I brush it aside and memorize where we’re going.
Just in case I need to find her again in the middle of the night…
Or get her out of here in a hurry.
We go up a flight of stairs, and she hesitates outside of a closed door. Whatever internal debate she has is lost on me, and before I can ask, she turns the handle and steps inside.
I follow.
This room lacks the warmth of Lyssa’s. The sleeping girl’s room has so muchstuff. Things that were sent by loved ones—who I now know is Kade, and maybe even Gabriel. When she wakes up, maybe she’ll feel the power of that love.
Tem’s room is painfully bare.
My chest pinches, and I have the urge to throw her over my shoulder and get her the fuck out of here.
This room is clearly meant to be a double. There’s a bare mattress and empty desk pushed off to one side. Tem’s bed is made, and some pens litter the desktop. There’s a notepad ofyellow legal paper, too, and it looks like some pages have been ripped out.
Things I don’t question.
“How are things back home?” she asks, turning to face me. Her lower lip is trapped between her teeth.
I finally have her alone, and she wants to talk about home?
“How about…” I grab the desk chair and carry it to the door. I wedge it under the handle. “I strip you bare and show you how much I missed you,thenwe talk about Sterling Falls?”
Her eyes widen.
I tsk. “Come on, Tem. You didn’t think I’d let you escape me so easily?”
She shakes her head. “Didn’t expect anything.”
“I’m glad we changed locations.” I toe off my shoes. “Fucking in front of an unconscious girl would’ve been…”
Not cool.
Kinda cringe.
She laughs under her breath. “Yeah.”
“Take your shirt off.”
Her laughter dies, but she does what I say. She drops her shirt to the floor by her feet, then goes a step further. She folds forward, removing her sweatpants and panties. Her shoes and socks go with it, kicked away to a pile with the shirt.
She straightens. Hands on her hips.
The moonlight is the only thing illuminating her room, and her back is to the window. The shadows hide the important details, like the curve of her stomach, her breasts. The bars through her nipples.
My dick stiffens, waking back up and tenting my jeans.
I move around her, and she shifts to face me.
The moonlight gleams off the nipple piercings. I want to touch her, but right now, she seems like a golden statue. Still, waiting, appraising. There’s goosebumps on her skin.
