Page 18 of Shattered Souls
My hands roam over her, carefully tilting her head back so I can see her neck. Noticing the teeth marks besmirching her skin, my nostrils flare. It’s not only that my Shortcake is bruised… it’s that she’s covered in marks that aren’tmine.
I’ve never had an issue sharing Riley with Royce, but for some reason, sharing her with Gray ticks me the fuck off. I don’t know if it’s the way he feels the need to claim and mark her as his, like she doesn’t belong to Royce or me too, or if it’s something more…
A warm hand cups my face, pulling me out of my bloodlust, and my gaze snaps to her gorgeous hazel eyes.
“I’m okay.” Riley’s soft voice soothes some of the bubbling anger. I cast a final glance at the marks on either side of her neck before dropping to my knees to brush my fingers over her knees. Her skin isn’t broken, just bruised and dirty.
“What the fuck, Grayson?” I snap, finally giving him my full attention.
The fucking idiot must be looking to get punched because he smirks at me, and the fucking spark in his eyes nearly has me lunging at him.
Sensing how close I am to snapping, Riley shifts to stand in front of me, blocking my view of the shithead.
“Logan,” she says with emphasis. “It’s fine.I’mfine.”
Pushing to my feet, I keep my eyes on her as I slide my hand around the back of her neck, relishing the feel of her warm skin against mine. She places a hand on my chest, and she does seem fine, if not exhausted. Still…
“It’s not fine,” I grit, lifting my gaze to glare at Grayson over the top of her head. “You had an emotional night that this fucker took advantage of to get his dick wet.”
The smirk drops from Grayson’s face, his expression hardening to stone as he glowers murderously at me.
“What the fuck did you just say?” he snarls, stepping closer.
“Logan!” Riley snaps. When I don’t look at her, too busy facing off against Grayson, she places her hands on either side of my face and yanks it down to hers. “It wasn’t like that. We went somewhere to cool off after the dinner.” Her eyes search mine, pleading. “Iinstigated it. Grayson didn’t do anything I didn’t want. He would never, and you know that.” She glances over my shoulder, likely at Royce, before turning her head toward Grayson. “We’ve all had a rough night. Emotions are running high. We should go to bed and talk in the morning.”
“Sure, Tempest,” Grayson grunts, cold gaze still boring into mine before he wrenches it away to stomp up the stairs to his room.
“Fine,” I concede, “but I’m taking care of you first, and I don’t want to hear a word of protest, Shortcake.”
Grasping her hand, I pull her up the stairs and into the bathroom. Scooping my hands beneath her thighs, I lift her onto the counter. My eyes connect with hers. “You swear you’re okay?” I ask, needing to hear her say it.
Her gaze softens, her hands coming to rest on my chest before sliding over my shoulders and curling around my neck,pulling me in between her legs. “I swear it, Logan. Grayson didn’t hurt me.”
My hands go to her hips, squeezing. “What about Bertram or your mom?”
I don’t miss the pain that darkens her expression. The sadness that seeps in. “I survived.” Eyes bouncing between mine, her voice trembles as she forces herself to ask, “Did Royce find anything?”
Sighing, I shake my head, hating how her entire posture deflates. “I’m sorry, baby.”
With a weak smile barely touching her lips, she murmurs defeatedly, “Not your fault.”
Moving past the moment, I grab a towel and soak it in the sink before lifting her leg. Holding her calf, I clean her knee before proceeding to her foot. I move on to her other leg only when her skin is its usual creamy color.
With her hands clutching the side of the counter, I notice the dirt beneath her nails. Tutting, I take a palm in mine and carefully clean the dirt from the creases. She giggles, and the sweet sound is music to my ears. The fact that this astounding woman has the capacity to laugh while her world is being burned to ashes speaks to the strength of her resilience.
I flash her a grin and a flirty wink before fetching a nail file and removing the dirt from beneath her nails. When I’m satisfied that I’ve gotten it all, I move to run the bath.
While the tub fills, I lift Riley off the counter and gently set her on her feet. I reach around to her back to undo the zip of her dress, and she holds my stare as the black material peels away, falling to her hips before she pushes it down to her feet and steps out of it.
She’s left standing in her bra and panties, looking like every man’s wet dream. Except, I’m not doing this to get my dick wet—even if he hasn’t caught on to that yet.
Divulging her of the last of her clothing, I whisper in her ear, “Get in the bath, Shortcake.”
“Only if you join me.”
One side of my lips quirk. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I turn off the taps and check the temperature before she steps in and lowers herself into the warm water. She watches as I pull my t-shirt over my head before shoving my sweats and boxers down my legs and kicking them aside. Striding toward the bath, I climb in behind her before hauling her against me, her back to my chest.
