Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“That must have been hard.”
I try to recall the feelings, but they’re distant and muted as if recalling the memories and talking about them put them firmly in the past. “It was, but I was also fascinated. I wanted to see how she solved the case. But it hurt, too. Like touching a live wire. It was a shock, but. . . I wanted it?” I don’t know how to explain it, so I try again. “I wanted the pain.”
“Like picking a scab. It hurts, but not as bad as the original wound. It’s proof you survived.”
“Yes,” I say, smiling in surprise. It’s amazing to have Rex understand me so perfectly. It unlocks something in me and makes me feel free. “That’s exactly it. But then Lacy found me reading it and was horrified. She took it away.”
“Is that when you wanted to become a detective?”
“I guess. I kept snooping. She wasn’t supposed to bring those notes home, but she did. She worked on them constantly. And then, one day, I helped her solve a case.”
“How?”
I grin to myself. I remember the moment so clearly. “I snooped again. It was a murder, and everyone thought the husband did it. He had no alibi. But then I—” My smile fades as I realize I’ll have to tell him that I had a vision. I haven’t told him about those yet.
I’m not ready to reveal that side of myself to him.
“I, uh, had a feeling that it was the neighbor. I told Lacy, and she followed my hunch and broke the case.”
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen. I was in foster care at the time, but Lacy had me over for visits on the regular.”
“She could tell you had a gift.”
“Yes,” I say carefully. Interesting choice of words, and too close to the truth for my comfort. “She got me a job with a private investigator she trusted, and I did so well that I decided to go to the Academy.” I stop talking because I’ve just told Rex more about my past than I’ve told anyone.
But somehow, it doesn’t seem so heavy sharing secrets this way. They’re just whispers in the dark.
I ponder this. It’s nice to share things with Rex. Nicer than I thought it’d be. Especially because he’s not pushing me to tell him more.
I hear him shifting in bed like he wants to reach for me, but he won’t allow himself to transgress the boundaries he set between us. He’s a tamed beast. Knowing that makes me want him more.
Finally, I give in. “You can touch me,” I say, and smile when I hear him move. As soon as his arms close around me, I’m able to let go and drift.
* * *
Heat sears my face. I’m surrounded by a shower of sparks. An invisible wall of pressure hits me, and I’m falling into darkness. Someone’s murmuring over me in a voice that sounds like Burgess.
“A shame,” he says over and over again. “A shame about her. . .”
* * *
I come awake, still feeling like I’m falling. The dark bedroom is still, but shadows crawl in the corners of my vision.
I sit up, but it doesn’t quite break the spell.
“Inara,” Rex says. I feel his hand hover at my back. “I’m going to touch you.”
I bob my head and relax against his hand. My muscles are tight, like I’ve been locked in a tight box. He rubs my back like a parent soothing a child who just had a nightmare.
“What do you need?” Rex rumbles.
This is about when I would do a scene. Something to bring me back to reality, to make me feel again. I wouldn’t be able to cry, but hurting on the outside would be a relief and a release in itself.
But. . . I’m not ready for Rex to be completely in charge. I’m still afraid he’ll consume me.
“Put your hands behind your back,” I tell him, just to test him to see what he’d do. It’s too dark to see more than the outline of him, but I sense his shifting movements. Very slowly, he puts his hand behind his back. The muscles of his shoulders bunch and then smooth.
He waits like that. I don’t think anyone has ever seen him look so vulnerable. Maybe I really do have control over him.
“Now what?” he asks after a long pause.
“I’m not sure.” We laugh together, and it’s a soft, lovely sound.
“Lights on, lowest setting,” he commands, and the lamps on either side of the bed brighten the barest amount.
“You can touch me,” he says. I lean closer, intrigued. “Take your finger and trace my lips,” he instructs. “Do it slowly.”
“You can’t dom me without touching me,” I say, running my index finger over the shape of his mouth.
He raises a brow.
He’s telling me what to do, but his hands are still behind his back, so I grow bolder, rubbing my thumb over his plush lips. His breathing grows heavy.