damn situation.
Jake stood and framed her shoulders between his hands. “You can trust me, Sunita. You know that, right?”
He was a big guy, carrying a good thirty pounds more muscle than Dash. This sort of pose had made Sunny realize three months ago that her marriage was dying. She’d had a shit storm of a day, and Jake had been the one to comfort her. Rather than feeling uncomfortable—as she did when complaining to Dash about a job he barely tolerated anymore—Sunny had felt understood and happy. All Jake had needed to do was hold her shoulders and tell her everything was going to be all right.
She’d been tempted then. So tempted to ease up on her toes and offer her mouth. She hadn’t. Instead she’d returned home to Vegas. She’d spent weeks taking a long, hard look at her marriage, at how she and Dash still fit—and at how the places where they still fit were far outweighed by silence and distance.
She wasn’t tempted now. Not in the least. Damn, if it could be that simple.
“I trust you,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Then you can tell me what really happened.”
“I told him I wanted a divorce.” Part of her wanted to tell him all of it. The rest of her clamped down on the need to protect the truth of what had happened between her and Dash. “More than that, you’ll have to trust me .”
“I do.” His eyes were dark and solemn. “But all the statistics say how difficult it is for women to come forward about abuse.”
The pain at the bridge of her nose wrapped up through her temples and around her head. “Do I seem like the kind of woman who’d be abused?”
“There is no ‘kind’.”
Jesus, he was so damned reasonable. Gentle. Why did it sound like she was mentally cussing him out for that? She needed reasonable. But rather than grabbing on to Jake’s version of her future, she’d given Dash an open invitation to assault her any time he liked.
Definitely not the same thing as abuse. Underneath it all, Liam loved her. No, that wasn’t truthful. It wasn’t abuse, because she had loved every moment—every wild, fighting and reckless second. She wanted more. Craved more.
That had been the source of the haze following her throughout the morning. She’d been unconsciously reliving every moment and breath and movement, and the way Liam had possessed her.
The way she’d seen through to the heart of him for what felt like the first time.
Explaining that to Jake wouldn’t be possible. Maybe she could manage someday—and she’d need to before they stepped into the next phase of their relationship—but not now. She didn’t want to.
So she slipped her wrists free of his grip.
She did it nicely, although she knew five different techniques for breaking forearms. His button-down shirt was starched beneath her palms as she patted his chest. “I swear. He didn’t do anything wrong last night.”
Weird that she was finding so many layers and shades to things that should have been black and white.
“I want to be here for you. To support you.”
“I know you do.” That was half the reason she wouldn’t tell him how she and Dash had fought like a pair of wild animals. Jake wouldn’t understand that sort of rawness.
She barely understood it herself, and she was the one who’d agreed to more. She’d agreed to let her husband snatch her and fuck her and… violate her. Any time he liked.
And she couldn’t fucking wait.
Chapter Seven
Dash left before dawn because he had to hit a seven o’clock briefing, and because he didn’t want to be in the house when Sunny woke up.
Yes, they’d talked about…what was going on. That didn’t mean they were back to talking as husband and wife. Hell, the only reason he hadn’t hurt her— truly hurt her—was that he loved her more than he would ever be able to explain. She was his wife.
Only for a while longer, if she had her way.
No. Divorce wasn’t going to happen. End of discussion.
He had to figure out where
Jake stood and framed her shoulders between his hands. “You can trust me, Sunita. You know that, right?”
He was a big guy, carrying a good thirty pounds more muscle than Dash. This sort of pose had made Sunny realize three months ago that her marriage was dying. She’d had a shit storm of a day, and Jake had been the one to comfort her. Rather than feeling uncomfortable—as she did when complaining to Dash about a job he barely tolerated anymore—Sunny had felt understood and happy. All Jake had needed to do was hold her shoulders and tell her everything was going to be all right.
She’d been tempted then. So tempted to ease up on her toes and offer her mouth. She hadn’t. Instead she’d returned home to Vegas. She’d spent weeks taking a long, hard look at her marriage, at how she and Dash still fit—and at how the places where they still fit were far outweighed by silence and distance.
She wasn’t tempted now. Not in the least. Damn, if it could be that simple.
“I trust you,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Then you can tell me what really happened.”
“I told him I wanted a divorce.” Part of her wanted to tell him all of it. The rest of her clamped down on the need to protect the truth of what had happened between her and Dash. “More than that, you’ll have to trust me .”
“I do.” His eyes were dark and solemn. “But all the statistics say how difficult it is for women to come forward about abuse.”
The pain at the bridge of her nose wrapped up through her temples and around her head. “Do I seem like the kind of woman who’d be abused?”
“There is no ‘kind’.”
Jesus, he was so damned reasonable. Gentle. Why did it sound like she was mentally cussing him out for that? She needed reasonable. But rather than grabbing on to Jake’s version of her future, she’d given Dash an open invitation to assault her any time he liked.
Definitely not the same thing as abuse. Underneath it all, Liam loved her. No, that wasn’t truthful. It wasn’t abuse, because she had loved every moment—every wild, fighting and reckless second. She wanted more. Craved more.
That had been the source of the haze following her throughout the morning. She’d been unconsciously reliving every moment and breath and movement, and the way Liam had possessed her.
The way she’d seen through to the heart of him for what felt like the first time.
Explaining that to Jake wouldn’t be possible. Maybe she could manage someday—and she’d need to before they stepped into the next phase of their relationship—but not now. She didn’t want to.
So she slipped her wrists free of his grip.
She did it nicely, although she knew five different techniques for breaking forearms. His button-down shirt was starched beneath her palms as she patted his chest. “I swear. He didn’t do anything wrong last night.”
Weird that she was finding so many layers and shades to things that should have been black and white.
“I want to be here for you. To support you.”
“I know you do.” That was half the reason she wouldn’t tell him how she and Dash had fought like a pair of wild animals. Jake wouldn’t understand that sort of rawness.
She barely understood it herself, and she was the one who’d agreed to more. She’d agreed to let her husband snatch her and fuck her and… violate her. Any time he liked.
And she couldn’t fucking wait.
Chapter Seven
Dash left before dawn because he had to hit a seven o’clock briefing, and because he didn’t want to be in the house when Sunny woke up.
Yes, they’d talked about…what was going on. That didn’t mean they were back to talking as husband and wife. Hell, the only reason he hadn’t hurt her— truly hurt her—was that he loved her more than he would ever be able to explain. She was his wife.
Only for a while longer, if she had her way.
No. Divorce wasn’t going to happen. End of discussion.
He had to figure out where
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