A Woman Reborn (sequel to A Woman Scorned)

Part 19

You kissed him, madly, passionately, dazed and spellbound. Billy's mouth - oh, his mouth - it was a divine thing, designed to drive you crazy and out of your mind. He worshipped you with his lips, his tongue, praying at your alter. His hands tugged at your hair while you undid his jacket, desire building in your core and throughout your blood, making it impossible for you to think, to breathe.

"Billy..." you groaned, frustrated, trying to unbutton his jacket but having a hard time doing it. He cupped your face, his dark eyes bright, lit up with such emotion that it made your heart flip-flop repeatedly in your chest. It was pounding so hard you wondered if it would explode. Your hands trailed up to caress the base of his neck, peppering his skin with staccato kisses.

You whimpered when his lips placed an achingly-sweet kiss on your temple, on your left eyelid, then right, following the trail down the length of your nose. You opened your eyes, met his piercing gaze that melted the last shred of resolve left in you.

"You touch me like this and you wonder why I can't give you up," he whispered in awe, reverence laced in his voice.

You sucked on his bottom lip, tugging at it.

"You see me. The real me. You always have."

You nodded your head, acknowledging his words. You knew the horror Billy was capable of, the things he did to get ahead and you loved him for it. You understood his drive to make something of himself and his need to destroy anyone who got in the way of his ambitions. Because you were exactly like him.

Breaths shallow, every nerve in your body heightened with anticipation, you slid off his jacket. He didn't move, watching you hungrily, a man possessed. Your hands paused when you saw his white shirt stained with blood. Roger's blood. You met his gaze, spotting the all-consuming need in the molten depth of his eyes. "If he's not dead, he'll run to the cops."

"What if he does? Would you miss me? Or would you be fucking ecstatic that I'm gone?"

You stared up at him intently. "You know the answer to that, Billy."

"I don't."

He swallowed audibly, eyes shimmering with vulnerability yet also anger. Conflicting emotions, he was the epitome of that. The man who loved you beyond your wildest dreams was also the same one who ripped you to shreds and cast you aside.

"Maybe before, when we were married, yeah, I fucking convinced myself you loved me. Almost as much as I loved you."

Sadness weighed heavily in his voice, making your insides hurt so much you couldn't bear to look at him. You lowered your gaze; instantly he grasped your chin and lifted it, forcing you to stare into his soul.

"But now?" He shook his head. "I have no fucking idea."

Every inch of you ached to tell him you loved him, you always would, but the fear flooding over you stopped you from confessing. Somehow you managed to get through the trauma of abusive parents and build a life for yourself, then through some sheer stroke of luck you even fell in love. Billy crashed through all your walls and defenses and ingrained himself into your heart and soul, and in your enraptured state the last thing you thought about was self-preservation. You left yourself open, completely raw and vulnerable, so when the worst happened and he hurt you – you crumbled completely. It wasn't just your heart that broke, you did too.

And you were still broken, fractured in your soul. There was nothing left in you to give.

"We need to destroy these clothes," you said. "Take them off. I'll put them in the wash and then get rid of them."