Page 157 of Saving Her

I don’t want to picture him that way, I don’t, yet the mental images play on a loop.

I imagine his naked body. His perfect muscles. His expression of rapture. I see him giving pleasure to a beautiful woman, one far prettier than I could ever be.

I hear it.

I feel it.

My insides revolt. Twisting. Turning.

I’m going to be sick.

“You okay?” Sarah pushes to her feet. “Do you want to talk?”

“No.” I wave her away and start toward the hall. “It’s fine. Really. It’s none of my business. I’m just going to read for a while.”

I measure my pace, one foot after the other, forcing myself not to run for the sanctuary of my room.

The thought of Luca’s strong hands on another woman guts me in ways I never imagined. It’s not due to disgust over an act that previously sickened me. It’s not my damaged past making me nauseous.

Strange as it is, the thought of sex doesn’t haunt me. That role is now exclusive to jealousy.

I picture him grinding, thrusting, her head kicked back as she cries out for pleasure I’ve never felt.

I close myself into my private bathroom, tears pricking my eyes.

I can’t stay here. I can’t face him once he returns.

Not after that kiss. Not when the burden I’ve placed upon him was far greater than I ever imagined.

As soon as Hunter returned stateside, Luca left. All this time, he’s wanted freedom.

For sex.

Did he conveniently forget I was a whore?

That my purpose was pleasure?

He should’ve just asked for me to earn my protection. God knows, the only skills I have are when I’m on my back.

I wash my face, the cold chill sweeping away the weakness.

I knew I was a burden to him. Iknew.And still, he adamantly denied it.

Lied.

My pulse hammers with anger. With the need to fight. But the person I want to battle with isn’t here.

I return to my room, slide on a pair of sneakers, scoop my hair into a high pony, and tiptoe back into the open living area. Hunter and Sarah are still watching the movie, the sound loud enough to drown out my approach to the kitchen.

“I should check on her.” Sarah pauses the television.

“Why?” Hunter snatches the remote and presses play. “A woman like that isn’t going to be cut up over a guy getting laid. I’m sure the last thing she wants to think about is sex.”

A woman like that.

A damaged, sexually abused woman.

He’s right. Someone like me shouldn’t be gutted at the thought of their protector seeking solace with someone else. My thoughts are just another vicious layer of damage.

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