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It’s light and smells like soft bergamot and sharp lemon. My stalker.
Eyes flying open, his bare hand hovers over my face. Scrambling from the bed, I fall off the opposite side. He’s here—like he said he would be. In my room.
My heels slam into my end table, the pain awakening me, and the lamp shakes. He stares down at me, and I don’t think—or maybe I do. My hands tremble with rage, and I grab the lamp, tossing it over my head at the intruder.
He took from me.
Deftly, he ducks under the ceramic, and it crashes into the far wall. Shards of glass rain down on the floor, twinkling like tiny stars. I exhale harshly, chest heaving for one moment before he strikes.
He flings himself at me, and we slam into the French door, rattling the hinges. His hand covers my mouth, the other wrapped around my hip to hold me close. My body rebels; bile sloshes up my throat. I want him off me—this man who stole something precious.
“Easy, Sunshine. Do you want everyone to hear us?”
Glaring, I sign, “You stole from me! You took the one thing I had that was mine—”
“I’m getting every other word,” he says, lips quirking. He pins me with his hips to keep me immobile, and tries to sign, “Go slowly,” but his hand movements are stiff.
Shoving him off, I dive back for my bed. My knife hides under my pillow, and I’ll be damned if I don’t use it now.
He catches me around my waist, holding me in the air as I flail. “Nice try. I know what’s under your pillow.”
He tosses me aside, sprawled on the bed. With one knee, he plants himself between my legs. He retrieves the knife, holding it under the sliver of moonlight.
“Not too bad. I’ve seen sharper, though.”
“You have the nerve to show up here after what you did,” I spit. “The audacity to—”
“To what, Sunshine?” He slips the knife into his back pocket, shadows covering his face. “Fuck you? If I recall, you were soaking wet for me.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be you!” I slap my hands against his chest, and he barely moves. Frustration wells in my eyes. “I had a plan. I made a deal—”
“With Tommaso?” he sneers. “A fucking stranger. You were going to open your legs for a man you didn’t know instead of me.”
“You’re a stranger! Or did you forget?”
He leans close, baring his teeth. “You could’ve told me no. You could’ve said stop, and I would’ve. I would’ve given you everything—and I did. I gave you a piece of me that no one else has, like you gave to me.”
My bottom lip quivers, and he traces it, almost lovingly. A piece of him.
He was a virgin, too.
“Strangers don’t feel that fucking good, Sunshine. Strangers don’t give a piece of their heart during meaningless sex. Whether you like it or not, you gave me yours. Willingly. Desperately. And I’m not giving it back.”
He pulls away, hauling me with him. “Come on.”
I’m dragged toward the bathroom, and he flips on the harsh overhead lights. Resting me on the toilet, he turns to my large soaking tub. The room fills with steam as he fiddles with the knobs. Looking back at me, he curls his finger. “Over here.”
I cross my arms. “No.”
“Fine.” He shrugs. Without warning, he scoops me into his arms and drops me into the tub. Bubbles splash over the edge, and then he’s there, yanking my nightshirt over my head.
“What are you—”
“Do you prefer to sign?” he asks, voice firm. His hands stoke my skin, lathering the soap. “Or do you prefer to speak?”
My jaw cracks, and I sink into the water. The heat loosens my muscles, but I narrow my eyes.
I still want to stab him for this mess.
