Vixen - a dark romance story

Chapter 25

Ray Valentino

Ray sat up on the bed, looking down at the sleeping man next to her.

She took the opportunity to study him closely - His raven messy hair, the way his eyelashes fluttered faintly with each breath, the soft pink of his parted lips, the muscles in his arms, the broadness of his shoulders, the sheet pooled at his waist... She knew every inch of his body, yet seeing it now in the soft light, stripped of the usual armor of clothing, seemed almost unreal, as if she was seeing him for the first time again.

A pang of warmth settled deep in her chest as she watched him sleep. He looked younger and almost boyish, devoid of the usual intimidating aura that he exuded when he was awake. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that he was still relatively young, only 26, and that he had shouldered way more responsibility than anyone his age should have.

Her gaze traced up his chest, lingering on the faint scars that dotted his skin. Pride and sadness mingled within her at the sight. She knew he was more than strong but seeing the proof of the violence he'd endured, close calls, and life-threatening situations he'd faced made her throat knot with concern.

And even though a part of her wanted to reach down and trace each one with her lips, she held back since waking him up would only lead to a conversation she wasn't sure she was ready for.

Her skin heated at the sudden memory of his touch. Kissing, caressing, exploring. Bringing her expertly over the edge as only he could do.
Yet, she refused to be someone who ran back to her partner after a few words and two nice -okay, spectacular- orgasms.

Cautious not to wake him, Ray climbed out of bed. After turning on the shower, she shut the bathroom door behind her. She stepped beneath the stream, feeling the water pour over her body, nearly burning her skin. Her mind slowly started to clear, and the heat of the shower helped to loosen the knots in her muscles, the soreness, and the tightness in her chest.

Ray reached for the soap and lathered up her body, scrubbing at her skin as if trying to wash away the memories of the night they'd just spent together, evidence of her weakness. She focused on the water's steam, the scent of the soap, letting the mundane task of bathing ground her back in the present, away from the chaos of her own head, but it was all in vain.

She clenched her jaw, feeling the surge of anger and frustration bubbling up as she thought over his reasoning.

Protect her? It sounded like a poor excuse.

How could he think it was okay to push her away, to keep her at a distance, all in the name of protection? She knew he had his reasons, but it still seemed so unfair, so selfish of him to take that decision away from her, to decide what was best for her without even discussing it with her.

The emotions coursing through her were overwhelming, each one more intense than the last. Anger, hurt, insecurity, regret, and longing crashed over her like a tidal wave, drowning her in a sea of despair.

She wanted to smash something, to shout, to scream at him, to make him understand how much his actions had hurt her. At the same time, she wanted to shove those feelings deep down, to seal them away and pretend they didn't exist.
This had been her coping mechanism for years after all. So she just patiently waited for the lifeline of numbness to return, letting the water from the shower cleanse her of her weaknesses.