Page 151 of Bloom: Part 2

When we finally broke apart, gasping for air, I rested my forehead against his.

“You’re my everything,” I whispered. “You know that, right?”

Bloom’s smile was soft, his cheeks flushed. “Show me,” he said, his voice a breathy challenge.

I didn’t need to be told twice. My fingers moved to the knot of his robe, tugging it loose. The silk parted easily, slipping from his shoulders and pooling at his feet. I stepped back just enough to take him in, my gaze sweeping over every inch of him. His paleskin, his beautiful ink that turned his scars into masterpieces, the curve of his hips—he was perfect.

A shiver ran through me, and Bloom laughed. “I’d love to say that’s from the way you’re staring at me, but I’m fucking freezing, Logan. Take me to bed.”

I took his hand and pulled him inside, where it was warm. He walked right into my chest, his cold hands on my face making me gasp, but then his lips were on mine, which made everything better. Walking back, I stopped at the edge of the bed and sat. He started reaching for me but then stopped cold.

“Bloom?”

He shook his head and gave a nervous laugh. “It’s nothing.”

But he still didn’t move toward me.

“Sweetheart.”

He jutted his chin out stubbornly. “I want you, Logan. So much. I know the things in my mind don’t reflect how I feel about you, and I won’t let them win.”

Bloom climbed into my lap, straddling me. “Bloom, wait.”

“I love kissing you so much,” he moaned. “Logan, you have on too many clothes.”

I caught his hands in mine and held them against my chest. “We need to talk for a minute.”

“Now?”

“Yes. Before we—you know.”

“About what?”

“How you’re feeling. What’s going through your mind. Bloom, I can wait until you’re ready.”

“Iamready. Don’t you see, Logan? If I wait, I’ll let him win, and I won’t let Simms or my parents control my life anymore. I want to be happy with you.”

Smiling, I raised his hands to my lips and kissed his knuckles. “I’m glad you feel this way because there’s something important you should know. You were not raped as a child.”

Bloom went stiff and he tried to pull his hands away, but I held onto to them.

“Hear me out, I’m speaking plainly to you because I can’t afford for you to misunderstand in any way.”

“What do you mean I wasn’t…” Bloom swallowed hard, brow knitted.

“Dr. Simms was playing with your mind, feeding you artificial memories. They’re fake.”

“No!” Bloom hopped off my lap, almost falling in his haste. “That’s not true. I remember! Logan, I remember it happening. I could feel him hurting me, forcing me—”

“I know, baby. I know.” Though I wanted to go to him and wrap him up in my arms, he needed space to think, so I remained seated. “Dr. Simms was a manipulator. He’s done extensive research into hypnotherapy and using it to introduce false memories to his patients. You weren’t the only one. In fact, there’s an entire society of psychiatrists who have been engaging in this practice. They call themselves the Mnemosyne Order. We’ve sent all the files we took from Simms’s office to the police anonymously so they can find those other bastards. More than likely the FBI will be involved since the members seem to be located all over the country.”

“You’re telling the truth.” Bloom clenched his hands into fists.

“I would never lie to you.”

“So none of it is real?”

“No.”

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