Page 112 of Bite Me

I trace the softness of her lashes. I’m going to fight for her because she deserves it.

We lie naked in the wreckage and ruin of everything that came before and all the expectations of others.

My feather touch causes her to stir.

“You can take it back,” I whisper. “It won’t change how I feel.”

Those three little words haunt me. How could someone like Emma love me?

She interlaces her fingers with mine, placing them over her waist.

“Never. Now go to sleep.”

I didn’t think anyone could love me. My family never did.

I squeeze her. “I won’t let you down.”

She kisses the back of my hand, and sleep gets closer as I let go.

Of the past.

Of the disappointments.

Of any future that doesn’t involve Emma.

Chapter Forty-One

Emma

I awake to the smell of pancakes. Specifically, the sweetness of blueberries and sugar. When I lift my head out of the covers, Dacre is standing in nothing but his boxers in the kitchen area. His bare back glistens in the sunlight.

“You’re cooking,” I mumble, stretching out.

His shirt is almost as comfortable as his bed. Currently, that’s all I have on, considering he tore everything last night. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to ask my sisters to bring me clothes. At the moment, all I care about is memorizing the curves in Dacre’s back muscles and staring at his butt.

“Felt like it this morning.” He turns with a wink.

“What did you make me?”

He finishes his garnishes and presents me with what can only be described as “fancy pancakes.” They’re soufflé-style, with cream between each layer and what appears to be brown butter sauce. What’s more, they’re garnished with blueberry compote, edible glitter, and star sprinkles.

“Your signature. I wanted to give it a try.” Dacre is too handsome for his own good. This is his real smile—slightly crooked, a small dimple on his left side that I hadn’t noticed before, and his canine teeth prominent.

I pop a fluffy bite into my mouth and close my eyes. Every time I try his dishes, I can’t believe the depth of taste and the way he sneaks in unexpected hints of different flavors without taking over the whole dish. They’re perfectly balanced recipes.

“This is amazing. You have to teach me how your mind works.”

He chuckles. “I’ll teach you everything you want to know.”

Dacre just might regret telling me that.

I devour half the plate in minutes. I’m so hungry.

When I’m done, my senses are a little more in order. I take a good look around the room, examining the aftermath of the night before. The mess of sheets around me. The fact that I don’t have underwear on. All the sensations of last night linger on my skin and between my legs.

I finger a small bruise on my arm. “I was kinda afraid . . . I’d be waking up alone today.”

“And I was afraid you’d be storming out and telling me you never wanted to see me again.”