Page 99 of BounBound By Scars

I turned and stalked off toward the room, my body already humming with anticipation. I needed inside her. Now.

We had called it early after seven drills, the lowest we’d ever done. Because tomorrow, we were heading to DC for the gala night.

She followed behind me, still muttering under her breath, that adorable growl in her voice making my blood thrum.

I opened the door with too much force. Practically tore it off its hinges.

We’d been sharing this room for almost a week now, but all we’d done was sleep. No time, no energy—just exhaustion crashing into us each night.

But not tonight.

Tonight, we’d fuck. I knew she had an IUD. Which was why I was planning on taking her bare.

I locked the door, leaned back against it, and watched her.

She was already stripping, huffing and puffing like a feral animal—muttering curses under her breath as she kicked off her pants.

My cock was as hard as steel—I didn’t dare look away.

Fuck, but she was cute.

“Wanna tell me what bouquet means?” I asked, arms crossed, like I wasn’t a hair’s breadth from pinning her to the nearest wall.

She glared, now in just her bra and panties. “Fine,” she snapped, practically spitting the words. “Seb gave me tulips on our date. And I realized—I’ve never actually been given flowers before. I didn’t even know what kind I liked.”

She stepped closer, her chin up in defiance, her chest rising and falling.

“And when you gave me the drone,” she continued, quieter now, “I realized that was it. That’s my favorite flower. My bouquet. The end.”

She finished, breathing hard, eyes bright with frustration.

And I?

I was fucking wrecked.

My jaw slackened, chest tight.

That tiny confession. That casual truth. It destroyed me in the best way.

I didn’t think it was possible to fall harder.

But I did.

Right then, in our dimly lit room, with her half-dressed and furious, I fell even deeper in love with Amelia Desmond.

And it scared the hell out of me.

“There,” she said, folding her arms. “Now tell me what you said to Dylan.”

Shit.

I rubbed the back of my neck and took a breath, mostly to stop my heart from thudding out of my chest. Because I was still reeling from what she had just told me. Drone as bouquet.

Who the hell says that?

Only her.

Only myHeer.

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