Page 82 of Violent Hearts

Our eyes meet again, and I see a cautious smile playing at the corners of her mouth when she adds, "I was very adamant."

"So I've heard."

She peels herself out of the blanket and gets up from the armchair, stepping closer to me. Her body is wrapped in a white silk robe, hiding very little of her limber frame. I want to touch her, to wrap my arms around her, and feel her soft skin against mine. But I'm not sure if I can, if I should.

She seems to feel the same way.

Her approach is hesitant and overly cautious, her hand barely touching mine when she reaches for me.

"You know who I am," she whispers. "You know I'd be lying if I said I had never considered any of this."

She looks up at me, but we let our fingers intertwine.

"I'm the kind of woman who signs up to be a high-class escort because she no longer wants to work for money by the time she's thirty," she reminds me. "I mean... who does that?"

I can't help but join her little chuckle.

"You," I say.

She nods. "If you'd ever read any of my pieces, you'd also know that I don't shy away from nasty stories. Those that expose or shine a light on the darker side of society."

"Like an agency called Violent Delights," I complete her reasoning.

She smiles at me.

"Exactly," she agrees. "But you have to know, I've never enjoyed hurting anybody, especially you. I never wanted to hurt you - and by now I'd even go a lot further."

I cast her a questioning look.

"By now, I want to protect you," she clarifies. "And destroy everyone who ever tries to hurt you."

She lets out a sad chuckle, and it’s overridden by sorrow. "Though if that's true, I would have to start with myself."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Because I fucking hurt you, Jared," she says. "I thought that I let you go for my most vulnerable part every time we played. But I was wrong."

I catch my breath when she slowly lifts her hand up to my throat, placing her fingers around it as if she was to choke me.

"I don't think the throat is where we are most vulnerable," she whispers. "I think it's the heart instead. And I hit yours pretty hard."

She lets go of my neck and lets her hand travel down to my chest, placing her palm on the left side.

"I'm sorry."

I place my hand on top of hers and beckon her to meet my gaze with the other, by tilting her head up with my index finger below her chin.

"I'm sure my heart isn't the only thing that's been in a lot of pain recently," I tell her. "I didn't exactly treat yours fairly either."

She smirks at me, a single tear rolling slowly down her cheek as a deep sense of relief takes over, eliminating the tense aching that must have been torturing her this past night just as much as it tortured me.

"I guess we're even then?" she breathes.

I have never seen my Button like this. It's almost as if I'm seeing her for the first time, really fucking seeing her. Just her, with all her flaws, her pain, her brilliance, her raw beauty when her face lights up, as I lean down for a kiss.

I don't crave for us to be even.

I yearn for us to be together. Because that's when we're at our fucking best.

Partners. A team.

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