Page 68 of Moonlit Thorns

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“I feel guilty because sometimes I’m glad I’m living here so that I don’t have to see her waste away every day. Does that make me a terrible daughter?”

He shakes his head. “No, it makes you human. I know firsthand how hard it is to watch someone you love suffer. I don’t blame you for wanting to escape it. Do you visit her when you leave here on Saturday nights?”

I sigh. “Usually. Sometimes I just go to Black Magic to pass the time and have a drink because I don’t think I can face her.”

“I’m sorry.”

I only smile at him. It’s not his fault, and there’s nothing he can do, so I change the subject.

“Can I ask about the bear tattoo?”

He stares down at his hand, spreading his fingers and flexing his fist. “My mom compared each one of us to an animal. She said I was strong, but thoughtful. Protective of her and my brothers. She called me her little bear for a long time.”

I put my hand over his and squeeze. “I love that.”

His eyes lock with mine, and there’s a heavy want.

“Do you have the nightmares often?”

His eyes grow haunted again, and I regret my words. “Enough, but I’ve been having them more often lately.”

I wonder why, but I don’t ask. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Instantly his demeanor changes. He looks as if he wants to say something, but he presses his lips together.

“Asher, what is it?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I move to sit up, and he rolls from his side onto his back and sits up. “It does matter. Tell me what I can do. Anything.” I stare at him, willing him to keep being open with me. To tell me what I can do.

“My past… I think it’s the reason I value control so much…”

“Asher, tell me what you need.” I don’t drop his gaze.

“I need to be in control right now. I need to know that I still have some control in my life, that I’m still the one in charge. It’s the only thing that pushes the dreams away, the memories.”

I move so that I’m sitting on my knees, and I place my hands on either side of his face. “Then control me, sir.”

A rush of air leaves him, and his body grows rigid, his eyes hard. I know I don’t have to ask him again. The man who wants to direct things is here, even if it isn’t Saturday night, and we’re not in the basement.

“Take your clothes off.”

“Yes, sir.”

I scoot to the edge of the bed and step onto the floor, turning to face him. Then I slowly lift the cami top over my head and slide down my sleep shorts until they rest on the floor. Asher licks his lips and peruses my body slowly from head to toe. It’s difficult not to cover myself. I feel so exposed in the dim morning light. But I stand my ground, knowing this is what I can do to pull him back from the brink of his nightmares.

“Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are, Anabelle? So young, too young for me. You have no idea the things I want to do to you. If you did, you’d probably run.”

I want to open my mouth and argue with him, but that’s not the role I’m playing here, so I remain quiet.

He stands from the bed, and my nipples pebble in anticipation. I thought I was going to have to wait until the next sex club night for this.

“Go wait in the ensuite. Stand in front of the mirror and take in how beautiful you are.”

“Yes, sir.”

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