Page 36 of Past Due

Chapter Ten

When I woke early the next morning, I heard the low rumble of Besian’s voice. He seemed to be mumbling in Albanian, and it took me a moment to realize he was talking in his sleep. I listened to see if I could understand anything he was saying, but it was unintelligible. After a few seconds, he grunted and settled down, making me smile at how he grumpy he could be even when asleep.

My smile morphed into a full-blown grin as the memories of our torrid night lit up my brain. I almost couldn’t believe that we had finally gotten together. All those months of will-we-won't-we and seemingly missed chances had erupted in such wild passion. When he had kissed my thigh and looked up at me with such need burning in his dark eyes, I felt as though I would spontaneously combust. The sheer force of desire had left me desperate for him.

I had always imagined he would be a skilled lover, but what he had shown me last night had eclipsed my wildest imagination. Feeling his mouth between my legs had caused my brain to short circuit. His rough, possessive hands had branded me, marking me forever as his.

But, even now, a small part of me felt guilty for not telling him that I wasn’t exactly experienced in the bedroom department. My dating history hadn’t been very successful, especially with Spider always hovering in the background scaring the shit out of every guy who worked up the courage to take me out. The few times I had gotten comfortable enough with a guy to get really intimate I hadn’t gotten very far. It just hadn’t ever felt right.

Last night, though? Last night, everything felt right. With Besian, I felt comfortable and safe. I wasn’t afraid that he would pressure me to keep going or that he would do things I wasn’t ready to try yet. By flying all this way to protect me, he had proven he deserved my trust.

No wanting to wake him, I carefully rolled over to look at him. I wasn’t a heavy sleeper so I had heard him moving around in the night. The soft turn of book pages had roused me at least twice. I hadn’t let him know, though. I didn’t want him to feel guilty about not being able to sleep.

A lamp illuminated the bed and his skin. The lines under his eyes worried me. Whether the stress was from his businesses, legal and illegal, or the anxiety I had caused him, I couldn’t tell. It was probably a mix of all three. Whatever I could do to help him relax, I vowed to do.

My gaze moved from his handsome face to the long line of his neck and down to his chest. I had expected he would have tattoos under his clothing. With the world he inhabited, tattoos were basically a calling card. I had learned at an early age to decipher the ink on hands, arms and necks. A few marks on skin told me which gang or criminal outfit the person in front of me was affiliated with and if they had bad blood with Spider or his crew.

Most of his tattoos were standard criminal fare, some of them faded and grainy like prison ink. The one on his chest, a double-headed eagle in shades of black and red, was a beautiful piece of art. Somehow, the surgical scar cutting through it made the whole thing seem even more impressive.

The sight of the scar sent me back to that awful night when he had nearly died for me. Wanting to hear the reassuring thump of his heartbeat, I snuggled in close and placed my ear against his warm chest. He made a surprised sound and inhaled deeply before sliding his arms around me. Neither of us spoke as I listened to his heartbeat, and he seemed to fall back asleep quickly.

Content and safe in his arms, I dozed until the first slim ray of sunlight peeked through the gap in the curtains. Besian hardly moved when I freed myself from his sleepy embrace and slipped out of bed. I found my pajamas neatly folded and waiting for me on the bedside table. I pulled on the shorts and tank and quietly grabbed my toiletry bag before ducking into the bathroom.

When I came out a short time later with a freshly washed face and brushed teeth, I discovered Besian sitting up in bed and looking at his phone. He idly scratched at his chest and yawned. He glanced at me and smiled. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Amused by his ruffled bedhead, I crawled across the mattress and kissed him. “Your hair is a mess.”

He snorted and reached up to smooth the wild peaks. “It’s your fault.”

“How?”

“All that hair pulling while I was eating your—”

I silenced him with a hasty kiss. “Behave.”

“I’ll try,” he said with a laugh. When I tried to move away, he shook his head. “Come here.”

Not seeing any reason to leave the warmth of his embrace, I stayed where he wanted me. He combed his fingers through my hair and nuzzled the top of my head. It felt so right, so perfectly perfect, and I couldn’t imagine waking up any other way ever gain.

“Marley.”

“Yes?”

“I want to apologize for the way I behaved yesterday. I couldn’t sleep, and I read some of your book. The Sylvia Plath one,” he clarified. “I saw the section you highlighted.”

“I’ve highlighted a lot of sections in that book. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“The one about wanting to travel and experience life without the constant threat of being hurt because you’re a woman,” he clarified.

“Oh.”

“I realized what a complete asshole I was to you. You were so happy when you stepped off that bus, and I crushed that by scolding you for being reckless.”

Touched by his apology, I lifted my head so I could see him better. “Apology accepted.” I kissed his jaw and then smiled teasingly. “Look at you! Growing! Expanding your literary horizons. Becoming a feminist!”

He grunted uneasily. “I don’t know that I’d go that far.”

“I’ll have you holding signs and marching for equality by Christmas,” I joked, finding the image of Besian at a political rally rather amusing.

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