Chapter Seventeen
Sienna
I stoodin front of the full-length mirror, staring at my reflection. Naked.
Blue, purple bruises covered my hips, and the bite mark on my side was still raw, tender, stinging a little. But it was the ache between my legs that reminded me with every step I took just how hard I had been used, how mercilessly I had been fucked. And how cruel yet erotic and seductive Noah’s touch was. Yet, somewhere among all the thoughts streaming through my mind, there were so many voices screaming at me to be horrified. Asking me why I wasn’t running. Why I wasn’t afraid.
But there was this subtle, tiny voice that slipped through, telling me how much I liked it. How thrilling I found it all, seeing the marks of his possession, of his claim all over my body. It didn’t scare me at all. On the contrary, I had this weird sense that I finally found what I’d been missing. Being with Noah, it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Without limits and utterly free. There were no expectations, no inhibitions. It was beyond anything I could have imagined or fantasized about.
Noah walked in clutching my dress in his hand, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, demanding I lick my lips as I gawked at the trail of dark hair leading to a V that held all the power when it came to women around the world.
As he turned to the side, I caught a glimpse of ink on his side. “You have a tattoo?”
He glanced at his arm. “You’re only seeing it now?”
“No. Not the pocket watch.” I turned to face him. “On your side, the ink there. It spreads to your back?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me see.” I leaned closer as he reluctantly turned halfway. Inked on the right side of his lower back was a large bullet with the number forty-two at the bottom; the top end shattered into a flock of birds escaping around his sides. The detail and intricate lines gave the simple image a melancholy feel to it.
As I circled him, studying him, seeing his naked back for the first time, I held my breath when I saw the tattoo inked on his back between his shoulder blades. An eagle, wings spread wide with the Earth’s globe at his feet. The only color was that of the American flag torn at the edges, blowing behind the eagle.
“What does it mean?”
He dropped my dress on the bed. “Not every tattoo has a meaning.”
“Maybe not. But I’m willing to bet yours does. A pocket watch and a bullet; those two have some heavy vibes linked to it.”
“Yeah. So, listen, I have to go into town to get some supplies.” He faced me, and immediately looked down at the bruises around my hip. His expression hardened before looking away. “You should get dressed.”
“What’s wrong?” I inched closer.
“Nothing. I just,” he rubbed the back of his neck, his jaw clenched, “I have a lot of stops to make today.”
“Give me half an hour, and I’ll go with you.”
“No,” he blurted out. “You can’t come.”
I balked, narrowing my eyes. “Why not?”
“I…um.” He placed a hand on his hip, rubbing his other palm across his stubbled beard, all the while staring down at the bed, avoiding eye contact with me. “I just…I don’t think it’s a good idea to be seen together.”
I snickered. “Noah, my dad’s not here. And my brothers don’t give a shit.”
“But I do.” This time he did look at me, and I wasn’t sure I liked what I saw in his eyes. The heat, the depraved desires, the fire that was there last night, this morning—it was no longer there.
And then it dawned on me. An ice-cold slap of reality.
“Oh, okay.” I reached for my dress and stepped into it. “I get it.”
“No, you don’t.”
I straightened my dress. “Oh, I do. It was fun, and now it’s over.” A quick look at my reflection with a brush of my fingers through my curls, I turned on my heel and headed for the door.
“Sienna.”
“Thanks for the ride, Casanova. It was swell.”