Page 97 of Major Penalty

But I’m not done. Not yet. I’ve given her my story.Mostof it. Now it’s time she hears the rest.

I grip her thighs and stand in one motion, her arms wrapping around my neck as I lift her. She gasps, and I carry her to the oversized outdoor couch. It’s deep and wide, built like a bed with black cushions and plush throw blankets.

I lay her down beneath me and crawl over her, shadows flickering across her skin.

“My story’s not finished,” I murmur, voice low against her lips.

“Tell me.”

I kiss her again, harder this time. My hand glides up her thigh but stays outside her skirt, just resting there as I pour everything into the press of my mouth.

I kiss down her neck, dragging heat along her collarbone with every brush of my lips. She arches into me, her fingers gripping my shirt, her breath hitching on a fragile, broken sound.

“The man who used to visit the orphanage, the one I liked?” I murmur between kisses. “He came back.”

Her breath catches.

“He looked the same. But I didn’t.”

I press a long kiss beneath her jaw, letting my mouth linger against her skin. She moans, her legs shifting restlessly under mine.

“I’d changed. I was angry. Bitter. I hated him for leaving and resented him for coming back like it was nothing.”

I trail kisses lower, over her chest, until I feel the beat of her heart against my mouth. Her hands tangle in my hair as I keep speaking.

“But he kept showing up.”

Another kiss, slow and reverent.

“He saw something in me I didn’t know was still there,” I whisper the words against her skin.

“Then one day…he invited me to his house. Just lunch, nothing more.”

“Ares,” she breathes, her voice unsteady.

I kiss my way back up her chest, her neck, her jaw, never letting up the rhythm of my mouth on her skin.

“We had soup,” I murmur. “But I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t even taste it.” My lips graze her collarbone. “You know what I kept staring at?”

“What?” Her voice is barely a breath.

I kiss her lips again, slow and deep.

“The photo behind him. A picture of him, his wife, and their daughter.”

I feel her still beneath me, the weight of my truth starting to settle.

“They were smiling,” I whisper. “They looked so happy. So fucking safe and loved.”

I press one more kiss over her heart.

“I still remember their names.”

Her eyes flick open, wide and filled with something fierce.

I hold her gaze and bring my mouth to her ear.

“His wife’s name is Gillian.”

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