Obsessed (The Protectors #13) - Sloane Kennedy Page 0,45

force. When it was finally all over, his softened dick slipped from my body. But he didn't let me go, which I was thankful for because I would've ended up on the floor in a heap.

Matias stepped us both backwards so the spray of water hit us. I expected him to just keep us there, but to my surprise, he sat down on the little stool I kept in the shower and then turned me around and pulled me onto his lap so I was facing him. The warm water gently pelted my back and slipped over my sore ass. I dropped my head on his shoulder because I was too tired to keep it upright.

We ended up staying there for several long minutes. It was only when the water started to cool that Matias rose, forcing me to do so as well. Things turned awkward as we got out of the shower and began drying ourselves off. As Matias pulled his pants on, I donned the bathrobe I kept on the back of the bathroom door. "I need to go check on Ryan," I said. I wanted to ask him not to leave, but unlike the last time after we made love, I was feeling unbearably vulnerable.

I ended up leaving the bathroom and hurrying out of the bedroom without saying a thing. I went to Ryan's room to make sure he was still asleep. I tried not to listen for any sounds like the front or back doors opening, but in reality, that was all I was really listening for. After making sure Ryan was settled, I returned to my room, not sure what I'd find. A ridiculous amount of relief went through me when I saw Matias’s shirt still on the floor by the bed. The man himself was standing by the window that overlooked the backyard.

"I'm not looking for a relationship," he said without turning around.

The words weren’t a particular surprise, but the fact that they stung was.

"And I don't want to be a one-night stand," I responded.

I swore I saw the slightest stiffening of Matias’s shoulders. He had his hands clasped behind his back, much like the stance of someone in the military. It wasn't the first time I'd had that thought, but a lot of things had changed since the day I'd first met this man. It might've only been a couple of weeks, but it felt like much longer. My eyes roamed over Matias’s back. The scratches I'd left on him were still there, but they didn't seem as pronounced anymore. I stepped closer to him so I could see for myself how badly I’d damaged his skin, but as I got closer, it wasn't the marks I'd left behind that caught my attention.

He was covered in marks. Not just marks, but scars. The majority had the same size and shape. The skin was raised and puckered, so the wounds clearly hadn't been stitched. There were maybe a dozen of the marks, mostly clustered in the center of his shoulders. I found myself reaching up to touch one without even thinking to ask if it was okay. Matias flinched at the contact, but he didn't pull away. I traced the length of one of them. "What happened?" I asked softly.

He didn't answer me. I thought he wasn't going to, so I dropped my hand and began to turn away.

"I hadn't figured it out yet," Matias responded, his voice barely above a whisper. I almost didn't recognize it because I'd never heard him sound so unsure and vulnerable before.

"Figured what out?" I asked as I stepped back to him and carefully moved so I was standing by his side. Despite the change in his voice, his jaw was set and hard and nothing about his stance had softened in the least.

"There was this point when he'd be too drunk to aim his belt. It took me a while to learn how to steer clear of him until he got to that point. As long as I stayed quiet enough, stayed out of his sight enough, he’d focus on drinking and he’d eventually be too far gone to get in a clean shot." Despite the vulnerability I'd heard, there was little emotion in his voice as he described the cause of the scars. I felt sick to my stomach as I looked at them again.

I remembered what Matias had said about his father when he’d been telling me that the man had often gone after Cruz.