Page 9 of Body and Soul

Did he even care about the truth? Or was he asking to be polite? Most people didn't want to know. They were making conversation.

I hesitated, my fingers still covering the brand as if I could somehow erase it from existence. I chewed my bottom lip, the metal of my lip ring clacking against my teeth as I debated how much to reveal. I'd gotten so used to dodging questions about my past, brushing off any inquiries with a shrug and a quip. It was easier that way. Safer. But something about Shepherd made me want to crack open the lid on that box.

“It's a, uh, brand,” I said finally, the words feeling thick and clumsy on my tongue.

Shepherd's eyebrows lifted slightly at that, but his expression remained inscrutable. “A brand,” he repeated, his deep voice carefully neutral. “Not something you see every day.”

I let out a humorless chuckle, my fingers still splayed over the mark. “It wasn't exactly voluntary.”

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “I gathered as much." He took a step closer. “May I see it?”

My breath caught in my throat. Part of me wanted to refuse, to yank my shirt back on and tell him to fuck off. But another part, that broken part desperate for understanding, for acceptance, whispered, “Yes.”

Slowly, I lowered my hand, allowing it to drop to my side, exposing the brand for him to see. The brand stood out starkly against my pale skin, angry red lines forming the distinct shape of a shepherd's staff.

Shepherd's fingers brushed over the raised lines of the brand, his touch feather light. I shivered, goosebumps erupting across my skin. It was the gentlest touch that mark had ever received. Normally, when people saw it, they recoiled or looked away, disgust and pity warring in their eyes. But Shepherd regarded it, regarded me, with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, his deep voice soft yet demanding.

I swallowed hard, my mouth bone dry. “It's a long story.”

His dark eyes met mine. “I have all night.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. How could I even begin to explain? The years of abuse, of brainwashing, of being told I was nothing, that I deserved the pain. That they were cleansing me of my sins. It was too much, too raw. Even after all this time.

I shook my head, looking away. “I…I can’t.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. Shepherd's hand lingered on my hip a moment longer before falling away. Immediately, I missed his touch, craved more of it. What the fuck was wrong with me?

I cleared my throat, forcing a shrug. “It's fine. It's in the past. Let's just... move on, yeah?”

Shepherd gave a slight nod. “As you wish.” He took a step back, gesturing to the array of equipment around us. “So, whatdo you think of the room? Does anything catch your eye? Pique your interest?”

I glanced around, taking in the suspension frame and all the ropes. My cock twitched in my jeans at the possibilities, the dark promise of it all. But a tight knot of anxiety clenched in my gut. As much as part of me craved to be pushed, to be taken to that edge, I couldn't ignore the warning bells clanging in my head. This was all so new, so intense. And Shepherd... Fuck, he was hot. Hotter than anyone I'd ever been with. But I didn't know him. Not yet.

That didn’t mean I didn’t want to get to know him.

“It’s all pretty impressive,” I said, clutching my shirt to my chest. “But I’m not sure tonight’s the right night.”

“Ah. I see.” He sounded disappointed.

Maybe it was because I’d been drinking. Maybe it was the proximity or the trauma lurking close to the surface. But for whatever reason, I somehow found the courage to shoot my shot with the hottest guy I’d ever met, even though he was clearly way out of my league.

“I'm not ready to jump into the deep end yet,” I said, forcing myself to meet Shepherd's intense gaze. “But maybe we could start with something a little more low key. Like…coffee?”

Shepherd studied me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. Then, slowly, one corner of his mouth quirked up into a half smile. “I’d like that.”

Relief washed through me, followed quickly by a giddy sort of excitement. Holy shit. He'd actually said yes. To me. I tried to play it cool, but I could feel the grin spreading across my face.

“Great. Uh, when are you free?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Shepherd glanced at his watch, a sleek black thing that probably cost more than my rent. “I’m free tomorrow. Let’ssay ten o’clock? There's a coffee shop not far from here that I frequent. Vero's. They roast their own beans.”

Of course he would go to some bougie ass coffee shop. Why was I not surprised? But hey, if that's what it took to spend more time with him, sign me the fuck up.

“Sounds perfect,” I said with a nod. “It's a date.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. Fuck. Why did I say that? We'd literally just met. This wascoffee. Not a date.

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