Текст книги "Pulse"

Автор книги: Gail McHugh

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 26 страниц) [доступный отрывок для чтения: 10 страниц]

“Love you, too.”

As she stepped into the hallway, leaving her past behind her, Emily felt a surge of unease about her future. But nonetheless, she knew she had to face it. No longer hiding and slowly beginning to change, nothing would chain her to herself… but herself.

And this… this she wouldn’t allow.

The smell of garlic bread coated the air as Emily opened the door to the penthouse. Nervousness raced up her arms when Gavin came into view, but it faded as he started toward her, his smile slow and deliciously sexy.

His gaze slid lazily over her as he pulled her into his arms. “Are you feeling any better, or do I need to play doctor tonight?” He smoothed his hands down her waist. “Although the latter could be very fulfilling for us both, I’d rather you be healthy.”

Butterflies swarmed Emily’s stomach. “I’m sure it’d be more than fulfilling,” she replied, her eyes trained on the mouth she so desperately wanted to kiss. Giving in to the temptation, she edged up on her tiptoes and did just that. She lingered in the moment his lips melted over hers.

“Mmm, I take it you are feeling better,” he said, backing her out of the foyer and into the living room. Lips still locked, he slipped her purse from her shoulder and dropped it onto a moving box behind the couch. “But don’t think you’re getting off so easily. I have the whole doctor set up in my closet, complete with stethoscope and white thigh highs for those pretty legs.”

Emily reared her head back, curiosity swimming in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

“No, but I can make a quick run to Kiki De Montparnasse on Greene Street to pick out something naughty for you if you insist.”

Emily giggled. “Did you just speak French?”

Gavin smiled, his dimple deepening his cheek. “Yes… As a matter of fact, I speak it fluently. I have a very talented tongue.” He brushed his lips over hers, teasing lightly. “But that’s not something you wouldn’t know already. I love the thought of you in white thigh highs, but I have to admit I prefer you in black.”

“And here I was thinking you preferred me naked.” Another giggle as Gavin groaned. Tilting her head as he worked his lips against her neck, Emily noticed water about to bubble over a pot on the stove. “It’s boiling,” Emily breathed huskily. The sensation of his mouth caressing her collarbone sent pleasure up her spine.

“I’m sure it is. I’ve always had that effect on you.” Gavin’s voice vibrated over Emily’s skin as he started unbuttoning her blouse. “Remember, I do things to your body no one else can.”

Though utterly and completely turned on, Emily couldn’t help but bust out laughing. Gavin looked adorably confused, but in that moment, all of her nervousness hit her at once, and she couldn’t stop.

Brows drawn together, Gavin sent her a questioning stare. His hands fell away from her blouse as she continued her hysterics. “What?” His mouth quirked into a half smile. “I’m not a pro, but I thought they were pretty good lines.”

Emily placed her hand on his chest. “I was talking about the water on the stove. Do you really think I would use the word boiling to describe what you do to my body?”

Gavin blinked. “Is this an attempt to make me feel better? If so, you’re failing miserably.”

Emily playfully pursed her lips, threading her fingers through his hair. “Aw, did I bruise my man’s ego?”

“In more ways than one,” he admitted. Like fire, the raw hunger igniting his features devoured her. He leaned into her ear, his voice a slow whisper. “But don’t worry… my retaliation will be your wonderful undoing.”

His promise slid over Emily like silk. A shiver prickled her flesh as he feathered his mouth across her jaw, her muscles coiling, taut with desire. Wrapping his hand around her nape, Gavin crushed his lips against hers. Leaving her nearly breathless, he tangled his fingers in her hair, his kiss intense, and just as quickly backed away. As she tried to recover from the delicious blow of his overly skilled tactics, Emily heard him stifling a laugh. He wandered into the kitchen. Half in a daze, she slumped onto the leather couch, slipped off her heels, and discarded them on the marble floor.

“Emily,” Gavin called.

Still dizzy, she swallowed and took a deep breath. “Gavin.”

“I just made your body boil, sweets,” he pointed out with a raised brow and a smirk. “Would it be safe to say I’ll achieve the same results once I have your naked body pinned beneath mine tonight?”

Knowing the man staring at her was nothing short of enthralling, exhilarating, powerful, and all-consuming, Emily found herself simply nodding. His words wiped her clear of her own. He grinned that sexy grin that’d caught her off guard from day one and made his way into the kitchen.

He opened a box of pasta and tossed the noodles into the pot of water. Steam drifted up, wreathing around him. He flipped on another burner, drizzled a touch of olive oil into a pan, and layered a few pieces of chicken breast coated with flour into it. After washing his hands, he grabbed two plates from the cabinet. Sitting back, Emily took in the way he maneuvered around the space with ease. He had this shit down. A real life Emeril, but one who was completely hot and undoubtedly worked out. Considering he sat behind a desk all day, there was no other way his body stayed magnificently in shape. Her eyes traced the faded jeans hanging perfectly over his trim waist. She watched soberly as his muscles flexed with every movement underneath a black T-shirt. He was so casual, yet so powerful. She wondered if he knew it.

Since her extent of cooking knowledge went no further than ramen noodles or a box of mac and cheese, Emily knew she had some catching up to do in the cooking department. Considering Gavin had a private chef prepare most of his meals, she found it amusing he even knew what he was doing. However, this wouldn’t be the first time something Gavin did or said shocked her. A warm feeling of comfort spilled through her. Dillon had never cooked for them. They’d always gone out to dinner. Not that she didn’t enjoy being spoiled to some extent, but she loved the small things Gavin did. Somehow, as she watched Gavin pull out a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator and pour them both a glass, she knew he was going to fill her life with countless small things that would equate to more than anything any other man would ever give her. For a brief second, she smiled. Then the reality of what the evening would consist of attacked her nerves again. She cringed, regretting that she’d lied to him. Swallowing, she took a deep breath and rose to her feet.

She moved into the kitchen and came up behind Gavin at the stove. She circled her arms around his waist, stood on her tiptoes, and perched her chin on his shoulder. “I didn’t know you cooked. You keep getting sexier and sexier.”

At that, he chuckled. “Wait. I thought I was shmexy?” He forked a piece of pasta out of the pot and reached back to feed it to Emily.

She took it into her mouth. “Shmexy?” she asked, chewing and clearly confused. “Is that your take on the word?”

Turning, Gavin lifted a brow, amusement in his eyes. “No, doll. It’s yours after you’ve had too much to drink.” He placed a kiss on the crown of her head. “And I think it’s very shmexy.”

She stared up at him and smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m just gonna go with it.”

“Smart woman,” he said, the corner of his mouth crooked upward. “Go take a seat, shmexy. Everything should be ready in a minute.”

“Shmexy.” Emily laughed. “Well, what can I help you with, Mr. Shmexy?”

“Bring this to the table.” Gavin plucked a basket of garlic bread from the counter.

“That’s it?” she asked. Walking away, she set it on the table. “There’s nothing else I can do for you?”

Grinning, Gavin leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “How can you make such a simple, innocent question sound so sexual?”

Wearing a grin of her own, Emily placed her hands on her hips. “Maybe it’s a gift?”

Gavin bit his lip and moved toward her. Standing inches from her body, he whispered in her ear, “Can I unwrap it, then?”

Emily drew in a shuddering breath at the feel of his soft voice so close to her. “We have to eat first.”

“See? You just did it again, Miss Cooper.” He lifted his hand to her neck. Massaging his fingers into her hair, his eyes glassed over with a want Emily couldn’t mistake. “You know I love eating… dessert.”

Heat curled through Emily, settling in her stomach. God, he made himself nearly irresistible. Blowing out the breath she was holding, she shook her head. “You, sir, need to learn how to control yourself.” Trying to exercise her own self-control, but more concerned about the dramatic turn the conversation was about to take, Emily backed away and settled into her chair.

With slight shock in his eyes, Gavin watched her for a second and then turned back to the stove. “You deplete me of any control I’ve ever had.” He strained the pasta and poured some tomato sauce on it. “But you know this already.”

Truth. There it was smashed right in her face. Emily knew he couldn’t control himself around her, and although she felt the very same way on so many levels, in that moment, she couldn’t stomach that he wanted her. She couldn’t stomach herself. Her question hit the air before she could think about it. “Why, Gavin?” She looked up from the table. “Why would you choose me? You can have any woman you want. Why me?”

Turning, Gavin drew his brows together. “Why wouldn’t I want you, Emily?”

She lifted her shoulder in a casual shrug. “Because there’s absolutely nothing to me. I’m weak in so many ways, and you… you’re strong.” Emily paused, shifting in her seat. “Nothing about me fits what you need or deserve.”

Gavin stood perfectly still, his stare unwavering. “Why are you saying all of this?”

“I can list more reasons why you shouldn’t want me.” Another shrug as she stared at him.

“I don’t want you to list any more bullshit reasons why you think I shouldn’t want you.” He moved to her, completely unknowing where all of this was coming from. Reaching for her hand, he gently pulled her up from the chair. His eyes danced over her face. “Do you want me to list the reasons why I need you, Emily? Because that’s what you are to me. You’re a need. Not a want.” Tears welling in her eyes, and lips trembling, Emily shook her head and started to speak, but Gavin cut her off. He cupped her cheeks, drawing her face closer to his. “I’m not sure you’ll ever understand, but I told you I need you more than I need my next breath. Since the day we met, from the second I laid eyes on you, there’s never been anyone else worth taking up a fucking inch of space in my mind.” He stroked his thumbs along her lips, laying his own against her forehead. “God created me to love you. Let me heal the cracks in your heart. I know this broken woman didn’t exist before Dillon. I refuse to believe that.”

Love over lies. Trust over mistrust. Heart breaking and swelling, Emily pulled in a deep breath. “I lied to you,” she croaked, wiping tears from her eyes.

Gavin swallowed down a sudden feeling of unease, slowly dropping his hands from her face. “Wait… what? What did you lie to me about?”

His gaze burned into Emily, making her step back. Mind in turmoil and unable to breathe, nausea hit her with pounding force. Cupping her hand over her mouth, Emily bolted toward the bathroom, nearly tripping over moving boxes scattered throughout the penthouse.

“Emily,” Gavin called, following her.

She reached the bathroom, slammed the door, and locked it. Hunched over the toilet, she dry heaved repeatedly. Her stomach had been void of any food over the last several hours, so nothing came up.

Gavin banged on the door, worry evident in his tone. “Emily, let me in.”

Another vicious lurch plowed through her stomach. She shook her head and stared into the toilet. “I… I need a second, Gavin.”

“No, Emily,” he retorted, jiggling the handle. “Open the door. Now.”

Though she heard the concern in his voice, she also heard authority, and she didn’t put it past him to break in if she didn’t do what he asked. Straightening, Emily drew in a gulp of air and inched over to the door. With so many emotions pummeling through her, she couldn’t decipher if she was coming or going. Eyes glassed over, she swung open the door. Her words belted from her mouth before Gavin had a chance to speak. “Did you know one in three women wind up in a mentally or physically abusive relationship?”

Though his muscles tensed immediately, and blood raced within his veins, Gavin stared back wordlessly.

Sniffling, Emily nodded. “But the funny part is, it doesn’t start off that way. It starts off wonderful, as close to everything you imagined something solid should be. Then little by little, the relationship changes, and you wonder if you’re going crazy. You literally start to question your own sanity. One minute, the person you’re in love with is kind and caring, and the next, they’re flipping out. The first few times you write it off, assuming they’re having a bad day, but then it becomes a regular pattern of behavior. The person on the receiving end isn’t oblivious to it but starts blaming themselves.”

With his entire body on alert, Gavin clenched his jaw and tried to school his tone. In a low whisper, he brushed his fingers across her cheek and stared into her eyes. “Did Dillon lay his hands on you?”

Shaking, Emily swallowed. “Did you know mental abuse can make a victim feel depression, anxiety, helplessness, nonexistent self-worth, and despair? But that doesn’t matter because your feelings don’t count, and you don’t realize they never will. Sometimes the abuser makes you think they count. Then you’re back to thinking that you’re the one who belongs in an institution, not them. But on the norm, your needs or feelings, if you actually have the fucking courage to express them—and most women don’t—are ignored, ridiculed, minimized, and dismissed. You’re told you’re too demanding, or there’s something wrong with you. Basically, you’re denied the right to feel… anything.”

Crying hysterically, Emily started for the living room. Sitting on the couch, she stared up at Gavin as he walked into the room, his eyes pinned on hers. “Sometimes you distance yourself from friends or loved ones. Sometimes you’re not even allowed to have friends. Though you’ve given this person your heart and soul, their behavior becomes so erratic, it’s as if you feel like you’re walking on landmines. But you continue to love them because they weren’t like this when you met, so it only seems obvious it’s your fault. Then—here’s the hysterical part and just how twisted this whole thing becomes—you start making excuses for their inexcusable behaviors in an effort to convince yourself it’s normal. In an actual, damn effort to convince yourself you’re the one who’s made them become the monster they’ve turned into.”

Heart pounding, Gavin knelt in front of her. Anger-filled electricity zipped through his nerves as he reached for her hands, lacing his fingers in hers. “For Christ’s sake, Emily, tell me what he did to you.”

With tears streaming down her face, Emily started laughing. “Wait, Gavin, here’s the kicker. A couple of ladies from an organization fighting against domestic abuse told me I allowed this to happen because ‘I’m a product of my environment.’ I mean really, how clichéd is that? Did I ever tell you about my parents? Did I ever tell you how after my father left us, my mother continued pursuing assholes?”

Wanting to rip the answer out of her, Gavin simply shook his head. Emily had never opened up like this to him, and he knew he needed to let her speak. He squeezed her hands as his chest constricted with every unsteady breath she took.

“Well, she did. She went through them like the world was going to end the next day. I get that being a single parent was hard for her. I do. But she definitely had a thing for picking up the local drunk at the nearest bar in order to help pay the next month’s rent. They’d help for a while before they bounced out like my father did, but that never came without a price. She let them smack her around a bit if dinner wasn’t cooked by the time they walked in the door, or if the house wasn’t cleaned by the time they kicked off their filthy boots. They all looked different, but they came from a mold. Each and every single one of them was cut from the same piece of abusive wax.”

Shaking her head, Emily squeezed Gavin’s hands this time. “So, those women told me witnessing my mother’s weakness drove my own, and her watching my grandfather beat my grandmother was what drove hers. They told me I was raised thinking it was okay for a man to do that to a woman. I was raised thinking self-worth was gained by catering to a man’s needs at whatever cost. Even if it meant degrading myself time and time again.

“But the apple can fall far from the tree. Fifty percent of children who grow up seeing that will never walk in their parents’ footsteps, whether it’s a boy watching his father beat his mother or a young girl watching her mother get hit. But this apple landed on the tree’s stump, Gavin. This apple took the same path as her mother.” Pausing, Emily looked at her hands tangled around Gavin’s. When she brought her equally pained gaze back to his, it was all she could do to get out the words. “They also told me because I physically fought back against Dillon the day of our wedding, I’d finally broken the cycle.”

And there it was. The question answered right before him. The question Gavin already knew the answer to. His stomach bottomed out. Feeling his face go pale, he slowly rose as blades of wrath sliced through his chest. Blood. He wanted Dillon’s blood, and he wanted it now.

Emily surged to her feet, her legs shaky. “Don’t. Please don’t,” she whispered, staring into his venom-filled eyes. Bringing her hands up to his cheeks, her body trembled with his. “I’m here with you, Gavin, and I’m fine.” Silence fell, its presence suffocating as she watched Gavin try to control his features. It wasn’t working though. She could see he was about to explode. “I didn’t tell you because I don’t want you getting hurt. I don’t want you getting in trouble or going through any more than you have already. Please, don’t hate me for lying to you. Please don’t.”

Gavin had known she lied to him that night. Something deep within his gut told him she did. However, another part tricked him into believing her. Gavin gave her a look of confusion, a scowl marring his face. “I could never hate you, Emily. Do you believe me when I say that?”

Emily nodded, tears trickling down her cheeks.

“And you’re worried about me?”

“Yes,” she admitted faintly. “I have to protect you from all of this. I caused everything.”

“Protect me after what he did to you?” he asked, the exasperation in his tone cutting through the air. Gavin lifted his hands to her face, his eyes boring into hers. “My God, Emily, you didn’t cause any of this, but you can’t ask me not to do anything to him.”

“Please,” she cried.

Gritting his teeth, Gavin turned away. “No.”

Fear shot through Emily’s stomach as she watched him yank his keys from the counter. As she moved toward him, her mind on fire with images of what he was about to do, Emily broke out into hysterics she never thought possible. She’d cried many times throughout her life, but nothing held a candle to what her tiny frame was producing at this very moment. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Legs feeling as though she was trudging through mud, she barely made her way across the penthouse. Emily curled her fingers around the back of Gavin’s arm as he was about to open the front door.

Gavin turned, his expression fierce, his stare raking over her. “You’re asking me not to be a man, Emily, and I can’t fucking do that. I can’t. You’re mine, and if I didn’t leave, this wouldn’t have happened. Don’t ask me not to make this right in the only way I know how.”

Breath seized and heart disintegrating from the notion he blamed himself, Emily hesitated a moment before lifting her hand to his face. Stroking his jaw, she shook her head, her voice a soft whisper. “Gavin Blake, you’re more of a man than any man I’ve ever known. You’re gentle. You’re kind. You’re strong and witty. You’re personable and warm, and you can reduce most females into blithering puddles of goo with the simplest words. “ Dragging her fingers from his jaw, she trailed them down to his chest. “You have a heart you wear on your sleeve, and you couldn’t do a thing to make me fall more in love with you. Not a single thing.” Pressing up on her tiptoes, she experienced a bout of nerves as she twined her hands behind his neck, bringing his face to hers. “And you’re not to blame for this.”

Struggling against the fury burning a hole in his stomach, Gavin leaned his forehead against hers. “No, Emily. If I didn’t leave—”

“And if I didn’t take him back.”

“He shouldn’t have fucking touched you,” he breathed, trying to contain his rage. “It’s not the same thing.”

“I know it’s not. But you want to know what is?” Gavin placed his hand on her hip, his fingers digging into her side as he looked away. Emily touched his cheek, bringing his gaze back to hers. “If you walk out that door and go after him, you’re no different than any man I’ve come across. Please don’t take this man away from me, Gavin. Please.”

Damn it all to hell. The look in her puffy green eyes, combined with the soft plea falling from her lips, had Gavin feeling as though he was backed against a wall. His mind was fucked, completely bulldozed over by her words. Torn between the need to beat Dillon within inches of his life and not wanting to drag Emily through any more shit, tension bristled deep within Gavin.

She’d bled herself out to him, burrowing her hurt and painful memories beneath his skin. Before this, she’d seemed unreachable, but today, she drowned every fear she had into a sea of trust Gavin knew only he possessed. But for fuck’s sake, he wouldn’t be able to escape his own hostility if he let Dillon get away with what he’d done. Every male instinct in Gavin screamed to demolish the man who had hurt the woman he loved. The woman who was his. Utterly… fucking… screwed.

Stuck in his thoughts, Gavin clenched his jaw until it ached. Staring into the eyes of the woman he knew he couldn’t live without, he made a decision he hoped wouldn’t haunt every waking hour of the rest of his life. “I won’t go after him.” He cringed when the words slipped from his mouth. “I promise I won’t. But you’re telling me where he hit you. Do you understand me? I need to know.”

Emily could see the reluctance in his eyes, but sincerity rang true in his voice. Emily released a breath and nodded tightly. “Yes,” she cried.

Gavin’s chest twisted at the slice of pain in her voice. Grabbing her hand gently, he led her into the kitchen where he shut off the burner holding the seared-to-a-crisp chicken. Gavin could feel the way Emily’s grip tightened when, a moment later, he made his way into the bedroom with her. Staring at one another, they stood silently, as if neither knew what to say.

Trying to wipe all traces of anger from his features, Gavin looped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight against his body. Within seconds, she was limp in his hold, her tears coming hard and fast. He nuzzled his nose in her hair, pulling in the sweet smell of her shampoo, as he attempted to prepare himself for what she was about to tell him. His brain couldn’t come close to computing how anyone could hurt her. She was fragile. Loving. Vulnerable. With all his possessions, Gavin knew her touch was all he had that was true, pure. Dillon had methodically unpeeled her layer by layer, exposing parts of her no woman should have to bare. In that moment, Gavin feared he would break his promise about not going after the sick fuck. With each passing second she came undone in his arms; Gavin was becoming perilously close to losing any semblance of control.

When Emily’s cries dulled to a low hum, and her breathing slowed to a normal pace, Gavin gently tipped up her chin. Understanding flashed in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Emily wiped her nose. “I am. Are you?”

He wasn’t. Not even close. He was unhinged. But wanting to keep her as calm as possible, Gavin nodded. “God, you haven’t even eaten yet.” Letting out an exhausted sigh, he slanted a hand through Emily’s hair. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” she whispered. She wasn’t. Still feeling as though she could throw up, food was the last thing on her mind.

“Okay. I’m going to toss some water on my face.” He lowered his mouth to her lips and kissed her softly. “I’ll be right out.”

Emily nodded and watched him disappear into the bathroom. After he closed the door, she inhaled deeply in an attempt to ebb the tension from her body. It wasn’t working. She didn’t want to give Gavin details about that morning. Hell, rehashing it could be the last devastating blow to his sanity. It was bad enough she could see he was fighting his instinct to leave and go after Dillon. This could definitely send him over the edge.

She yanked herself from her evil thoughts and rummaged through a few moving boxes still holding some of her belongings. Searching for a pair of pajamas, she came across a picture of her mother and sister from a trip to Santa Cruz many years earlier. Forced smiles dowsed the photo. Those small pieces of reprieve had served as a sliver of good among the chaos consuming their lives, but that’s all they were. Slivers of peace. Slivers of something that was never constant. As she stared at it, Emily choked back tears, knowing she was about to shed enough for the evening. She shoved the memory underneath a pile of sweaters.

By the time she’d slipped out of her work clothes and into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, Gavin reemerged from the bathroom. Stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, his face angrier than a few minutes before, Emily watched him sink onto the edge of the bed. Something in the set of his body alarmed her. It was as if the few minutes he had to himself had turned him into one huge combustible ball of pissed off alpha-male. Emily swallowed nervously and crawled onto the bed. God, all she wanted to do was soothe him from the battle she knew he was fighting. Coming up behind him, she placed her hands on his shoulders and massaged, trying to remove the tension tumbling off him in hot waves.

She chose her words carefully. “Gavin,” Emily began, her voice soft, “why don’t we just go to sleep? We’re both mentally shot right now. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Without answering, Gavin shook his head. After rolling his neck, he leveraged himself back against pillows tucked up along the headboard.

On her knees, Emily turned and stared at Gavin. Shadows of cold hostility danced on his face and all it did was make her feel guilty for not allowing him to do what she knew he so desperately wanted. She moved her eyes from his, unable to witness his pain any longer.

“Look at me, Emily,” he commanded in a tortured whisper. Her gaze flickered back to his. Gavin sensed her nervousness, her hesitation, and fuck if it didn’t mess with his thoughts. “Come here,” he said, holding out his hand.

She reached for it, and he guided her to his side. Nuzzling against him, Emily rested her head on his chest. Though tension of her own poured from her body, the tantalizing aroma of his cologne and the steady thumping of his heart calmed her and brought her mind to a place she felt safe. His hand drifting up and down her back eased her further into a cave of euphoria only Gavin could provide.

“Where did hit you?”

She knew it was coming, but his question still elicited a full, bone-deep shiver, pulling her right from those few seconds of calm. Curled into a tight ball and molded to him, Emily lifted her head and looked into his searching blue eyes. She brought up her hand and pointed to the spot above her brow, where only a few days before, he had questioned her about it. Where only a few days before, she lied to the man she loved. The man she needed to trust her. Emily felt his body go taut with tension. Like an inferno, anger blazed in his eyes. Emily watched the muscle in his jaw tick as he gazed at her. Other than Gavin’s increased breathing, silence hung in the air, weighing heavily on Emily’s heart.

“I’m okay, Gavin,” she whispered, feigning reassurance.

Gavin seethed. The need to wipe Dillon from the face of the earth seeded itself in every cell, tendon, and muscle in his body. However, the need to comfort Emily pulled at him as he forced his composure to remain intact. Gently, he lifted her on top of him, straddling her legs over his hips. He could feel her shaking, and it wracked through his head. Fucked with him… bad.

Staring at the tiny scar, he brushed his thumb across it. Though barely noticeable, just knowing how it got there gutted Gavin beyond words. How could a man, a true man, do that to a woman? It was something Gavin couldn’t even begin to process. Leaning up, he circled one arm around her waist as he wrapped his free hand around the back of her neck and guided her face down to his. For a second, he stared into her eyes before grazing his lips across the mark that would forever brand her beautiful face. A brand placed there by an asshole who’d never deserved her.

“Where else did he hit you, Emily?” Gavin flicked his eyes to hers. He realized he was setting himself up for more self-inflicted pain, but a part of him needed to put himself through it. Emily had suffered far worse than he was. Or not. That was a question he definitely couldn’t answer because this was a suffering he’d never had to endure.

“My lip,” Emily softly answered, watching Gavin’s eyes turn fierce. She froze.

Gavin cringed, fighting back the compulsion to rip out of the house. “Your lip,” he stated calmly, once again trying to school his tone. “He hit your fucking lip?” Hesitantly, Emily nodded. Watching her beautiful lips tremble, Gavin caught a whisper of her perfume. In that moment, all he could think about was re-branding those lips. He pulled her down to his mouth hard and fast.