Page 64 of Instigator

She arches an eyebrow, looking amused. “Reacted?”

“I thought you were sexy as hell. Still do. It’s part of the reason I avoided you for so long.”

“And now?”

“Knowing you as a person? You’re a fucking bombshell. I’m kicking myself for passing up on our chance back then. What could we have had all this time?”

“We can’t think like that. We can only move forward.”

“Together.” I duck down to kiss her, slow and sweet. I could get addicted to her taste, to her lips beneath mine.

We break apart, and she tosses her hair over her shoulder, putting her back to me. “Can you get my zipper?”

My mouth goes dry as I reach for the tiny tab. Slowly, so fucking slowly, I drag the zip down, each metal tooth unraveling sounding like gunshots in the room’s stillness. The only thing I can hear is the pounding of my heart, as if there’s a ten-piece brass band accompanying it.

Ceci stands, pulling her arms free of the sleeves and letting the fabric pool to the floor. She turns to face me in a black lace bra and shapewear that covers her from ribs to upper thighs.

“This part, I have to do myself,” she says. “Can you give me a moment?”

“Whatever you need.”

Dropping a kiss on her cheek, I squeeze her hip before exiting the room. The apartment is quiet, my thundering heart the only sound I can hear. I make sure the door is locked, the deadbolt fastened, and everything is shut down for the evening. Definitely don’t want my sister to come over for breakfast tomorrow and see something she doesn’t need to.

When I hear the snick of the door opening, I pad down the hallway back to my room, each step echoing. I pause in the threshold, my entire body lighting up with anticipation.

Because Ceci is in my bed.

Naked.

Ceci is naked in my bed.

Holy fucking shit.

twenty-seven

. . .

Ceci

The longer he stands there staring, silent, the more nervous I get. I don’t do nerves.

Hugging my belly, I try to angle myself to where he won’t see the scars. Tummy tuck. Brachioplasty. Thighplasty. Breast reduction and lift. I had the best surgeons money could buy, and four years later, there’s minimal scarring, but bared to him as I am… he can see everything.

And that terrifies me.

I’ve been with other men since losing the weight. Lights off. None of them have ever mattered the way Aidan does. If my body and scars turn him off…

No. I have to believe him. I have to trust him, just like he’s trusting me.

“Aidan.” I don’t know what I want to say. The words are on the tip of my tongue, yet I can’t quite verbalize them.

His Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow, and then he closes the door behind him and starts forward. “Ceci.”

“I’m nervous,” I finally admit. “This is…”

“I know.” He reaches me and kneels on the edge of the bed, ducking down to kiss me. He’s still fully dressed, and as I pull him down on top of me, I find myself enjoying how the fabric of his clothes brushes against my sensitive skin. I don’t feel like he’s in control or taking advantage; we’re equals, despite the imbalance.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he promises. “Everything you need, I’ll give it to you. Anything you want.”