Page 37 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

Chapter Sixteen

Rosie

William was already asleep by the time Rosie pulled up in the driveway after her shift at the hospital. He’d texted her an hour ago to say he was going to bed. No, that was a lie. He’d asked her if she minded, and of course she didn’t; but knowing that didn’t stop her heart sinking a little when she brought the car to a stop and stared up at the house, knowing he was in there, fast asleep.

She could picture his blonde hair flopped on the pillow and the way his face almost relaxed in sleep. Not fully. He was a teeth grinder when he slept, always on alert in some way.

He’d left the hall light on for her, and she let herself into the house as quietly as possible. Mostly, so she didn’t wake the beast in the front lounge and give her another thing to rant and rave about. Pretty soon, Rosie would be introducing herself as that American Whore to people, if Maria persisted with it. But in truth, the name was beginning to lose its edge now. Knives did become blunt over time when they got used so much.

It was almost tempting to slam the front door though, just to wake Maria and piss her off. It was a weird side emerging from Rosie, one she hadn’t known existed within herself, and one she wasn’t sure if she liked or not.

Rosie hung her coat next to William’s leather biking jacket, but she kept her scarf on. Jesus Christ it was cold, and the nights were ever worse, giving over to bitter winds and icy blasts that seemed to wait around the corner for Rosie every time she wanted to venture out of the house.

She wiped at her nose, the feeling just about coming back to it, even though she’d cranked the heater in the car to full blast, she couldn’t get warm. At one point, she’d driven one handed with her numb fingers resting on the vent that spewed out warm air. The tips of her fingers tingled now as the warmth of the house wrapped itself around her.

Somewhere hot, that’s where she and William would go one day. They’d bask in the sun for the day and not worry about a damn thing. One day … someday.

Before heading up to bed, she went to the kitchen, dumped her bag on the little table and poured herself a glass of juice. She drained it and let herself take a moment of the silence in the house. William might have been asleep, but she could swear she could feel him upstairs, like a warming presence linked to her. It took all her resolve not to race up to him. She hoped the way he made her feel never faded, even when they’d be twenty years in. She wanted to always crave him this way, to want him with the depth of it now.

Rinsing her glass, she put it on the drainer. William would load it into the dishwasher tomorrow. He preferred to do it himself, even if she insisted she was quite capable.

Once upstairs, she made a stop at the bathroom to brush her hair, take off her make-up and clean her teeth. She kept her scarf on the entire time. Would she ever warm up? If it wouldn’t have driven William mad, she’d have considered wearing her coat to bed. Apparently, it was going to get colder … Colder. She couldn’t believe it. Any colder and she wasn’t going to venture outside. Perhaps this was why animals hibernated.

He was asleep when she went into the room, and rather than sinking with disappointment as she watched him, she tilted her head and stayed there a while. If it wouldn’t wake him, she’d have run her hand through his hair. His eyes were closed, his face peaceful, and he was lying on his front, arms under the pillow.

“You’re letting in the cold air,” he said, half sleepily, not opening his eyes. “Get into bed.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

He yawned and turned his face into the pillow. When he turned his face back to her, his eyes were open, hooded with sleep. “I was until someone kept the door open and tried to freeze me. Get in. It’s warm.”

Without waiting another moment, she slipped out of her clothes, stripping down to her underwear, pausing at the scarf. It could stay for the moment. She climbed under the blankets with him and snuggled in against his sleepy warm body, letting it soak into her skin.

He rolled over to face her and paused. “A scarf? Really?”

“It’s cold.”

“I can fix that.” He pulled her closer to him, draping his leg over her body and wrapping an arm across her chest. He slid the scarf open but didn’t take it all the way off. Just enough to give him access to her neck. He nipped at skin, peppering it with slow, easy kisses that she melted into without a fight. Each kiss sent shivers through her body, shivers she welcomed, shivers that heated her skin in ways no fire could ever do. “Better?”

“Maybe,” she said.

“Do you need more?” He pulled her in, and she relaxed a little, fighting off the chill and the cold on her skin. When he raised a hand to the side of her face, it was instinct that made her turn her face into it and kiss the palm. In that moment, she was his, all his. She arched into him, all need and want and longing. She slid a hand along his slender waist, feeling the way his body was defined under her touch.

“Rosie,” he said, speaking her name and making it sound like the most precious thing she’d ever heard. It was laced with lazy sleep and his own longing. He pulled himself on top of her, balancing his weight on his arms, applying only enough pressure to make her feel safe. The only person in this position where no one could hurt them. No Maria, no parents, no memories of men and all the things she told him that made her burn with shame.

In his arms, she was Rosie. No, she was more than Rosie, she was William’s Rosie.

He kissed her so deeply that she was sure she’d forget where she was and everything that had battered her thoughts for the day. She couldn’t resist reaching up and running her hands through his hair now, when it wouldn’t disturb him.

When he unhooked her bra, pushed it aside and placed his warm hand against her breast, his touch was warm and heated. And always with him, no matter what, she always felt sexy. Wanted—more than a thing someone could take and use how they wanted.

He moved along her body, inch by precious inch, like a wave of heat running along her flesh. With each movement, her breath became shallower, and she was so close to just pulling him down and into her.

He gazed down at her, pulling the scarf all the way off and tossing it somewhere into the room. Then he leant down and kissed her, slow and tender this time, savouring every part of her mouth, reaching into new depths of her. All she could hear was her own breathing. It came in short, sharp, delighted rasps and murmurs of pleasure against his lips.

She was fluid in his hands, liquid heat shuddering through her body, making her gasp as he nipped her skin. He kissed the side of her neck, down to her collar bone, just above the soft mound of her breast until she was giddy with it and could hardly breath. When she felt like she couldn’t stand it any longer, she arched her body up to him, offering herself. He hooked his thumb into the side of her panties and pulled them down.

“William …” she breathed when he leant back against her, using just enough weight to trap her under that delicious strength of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he pushed himself inside her.

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