Teacher (Voyeur #6) - Fiona Cole Page 0,45
his chest.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t push for more. It was one of the main things I enjoyed about Daniel. He never pushed but was always open if I wanted to talk.
My head rose and fell with his deep breaths, and I sank into the feel of his arm around my back, into the way his palm rested over my smaller hand. His pinky pushed against my sleeve, inching it back enough to stroke the scars that still marred each wrist.
“Sometimes I forget,” he admitted quietly.
“I like that you forget.” Daniel never treated me like broken glass barely glued together. He treated me like a normal human being—a strong one. “I wish I could forget, too.”
“Do you still think about it a lot?”
I hesitated. It was the most direct question he’d ever asked me about being kidnapped and sold, but I found myself wanting to talk about it with him.
“Not usually. I can sometimes go a week or more without it crossing my mind. But I always think of Sofia.” He held me tighter, and I took a shuddering breath. “I had a hard time at first—when Erik first rescued us—me. They gave us drugs, and I struggled coming off of it. It left me with a lot of flashbacks. I’d panic, and they’d try to subdue me, but I couldn’t stand to be touched. It just made it worse.”
“Jesus, Hanna.” The words were so soft, they barely vibrated against my cheek, like he didn’t mean for them to slip out.
“The worst—the things that haunted me the most—were the moments I was too drugged to know what was happening to my body.” Tears burned the backs of my eyes. I’d never told anyone that outside of my therapist. We’d worked on it, but that fear still clung to me harder than any others. “Maybe you going down on me wasn’t the first time. Maybe I just don’t remember.”
Daniel moved then, no longer content to be a passive member of this conversation. He lay on his side, so I had no choice but to meet his gaze, the blue sparkling like ice in the sun. “This is all that matters,” he said, his words so intense they crushed through any doubt until I had no choice but believe they were real. “What you choose to give is all that matters.” His fingers lightly pinched my chin and held me in place. “Do you hear me?”
The tears I’d held at bay slipped, sliding onto the pillow. I managed to hold most of them back and nodded, unable to speak past the lump lodged in my throat. He held my hands and pressed soft lips to my forehead, not speaking again until my tears dried.
In that moment, I almost wanted to beg for him to forget the rules and press his lips to mine. Somehow, I held back.
When I offered a lame smile, awkward and unsure of how to move on from my confessions, he did it for us.
His brow rose high and arrogant, lips tipped with a cocky smile. “Besides, I’m all hyped up and alpha right now at being the first one to eat your pussy. Don’t take that from me.”
A shocked laugh broke free, knocking away any tears threatening to escape. “Oh, my god, Daniel.”
He lifted an arm and flexed, making faces and winking. The sadness washed away with each laugh he made me let loose.
I slapped his chest before gripping my sides. “Stop. I can’t take it anymore.”
“I’m too alpha, right?”
“Soooo alpha.” I poked him in the ribs and loved watching him jerk. “A ticklish alpha.”
“Every alpha has a weakness.”
“Thank you, Daniel,” I whispered.
He pulled me close into his chest and kissed the top of my head again, renewing the ache to feel his lips on mine. “Any time. Anything.”
“You mean that? Anything?”
He pulled back, his brows lowered over doubtful eyes. “Yes,” he answered slowly.
“How do you feel about being my date to the charity gala?”
“Do I have to buy a corsage?”
I laughed. “Maybe.”
“Then I’m definitely in. I love a good flower accessory. How can I say no?”
15
Hanna
Turning this way and that, I examine the blue lace stretched too tight across my chest in the full-length mirror. I’d gone back and forth with how I felt about my cleavage. Boasted about it in high school, loving the attention. Then I hated it and would have done anything to have them gone. Then I’d pretended to be okay with them in the years after. But it