Page 34 of Nemesis
I continued exploring the lines of her body, waiting for her to stop me, yet she remained silent. I skimmed down her side, resting my fingers on the hem of her nightgown, taunting, but once again, she didn’t move away from my touch.
Energy buzzed around us, sending my heart thudding violently against my chest, a fire erupting in the pit of my stomach, demanding more.
But I didn’t dare move my fingers further. I was so fucking tempted to give in, but I wouldn’t, not until she said something.
She tilted her head, intently watching me under her thick lashes, baiting me to continue. Something flashed in her brown eyes, but it was gone before I could decipher it.
Slivers of moonlight spilled through a gap in the drapes, highlighting her face. It was the first time I’d seen her without makeup. She was beautiful regardless, but there was a softness to her I hadn’t seen before.
But with her tough shell scrubbed away, I also saw another truth she’d been hiding.
Traces of a fading bruise.
My body stiffened, fingertips clenching the fabric at the hem, my knuckles grazing her thigh in the process as a rage like I had never felt before washed over me.
Delicately, I brought a trembling hand to cup her face, the rough skin of my thumb swiping across the tender almost-faded bruising flesh.
She stilled.
“Who the fuck did this to you?” I asked, speaking through gritted teeth.
She winced from my touch, tearing her gaze away from mine. “I bumped into a table trying to grab something.”
“You are a terrible liar.” My thumb gently rested on her cheek, my index finger tilting her head back so she would look at me.
“Please.” I paused. My eyes searched hers again until our gazes finally locked again. My heart skipped a beat as I asked, “Was it Victor?”
Confusion knitted her brows together, alarm flashing briefly across her face. The tense air suddenly dissipated as she jerked away from me at the mention of his name, my hand falling away from her as she shoved us apart, almost violently, putting distance between us.
“This never happened,” she warned, storming out the door, slamming it behind her.
I didn’t go after her.
I braced myself over the table she was previously pressed against, trying to calm my ragged breaths. I pushed the drapes aside, confirming she’d made it in safely, and after a few minutes, I saw her figure walk past the window in the master bedroom.
Ignoring the need to march into the house and murder Victor Morales, I untied the towel from my waist and dried myself before changing into the clothes I’d left on my bed earlier.
I didn’t believe her lie, but I also didn’t want to make it worse for her. It wasn’t my place, but I’d be here if she needed me to be.
Once I was dressed, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating what this woman, thismarriedwoman, was doing to me.
I couldn’t shake the feeling of how good she felt under my fingertips, how familiar her skin felt.
My thumb grazed over my lower lip, trying to commemorate the feel of her skin to my other senses.
Touching her was probably a mistake, but I let myself relish in the proximity she was giving me to the one person I’d been thinking of ever since I’d first met Olivia.
Sofia.
CHAPTER15
SOFIA
“He’s so hot,” one of the ladies around the table said.
The women laughed, and I sported a tight smile, unaware of whichhethey were referring to, having zoned out of their conversation long ago.
These friendly weekly luncheons at Brownstone, our local country club, were usually short, but I always counted every second until they were over.
