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Mind (Trinity Trilogy Book 2) Page 5


  “I thought that’s where I was. Back there, was hell,” I admit.

  “Tell me,” he encourages.

  Taking a deep breath, I explain what happened. It was years ago. I’d gotten a new recipe from a friend in college for an easy chicken bake. I’d always been really careful about how I spent Justin’s money since he was supporting us by paying for the house and all our food. Back then, school and Justin were my life. He was five years older than me and was working a job in construction to provide for us. I was so excited to try the new dish. Dying to please him with my new cooking abilities. Unfortunately, I’d miscalculated the amount of water to rice ratio, and, after forty minutes, the dish was seared black on the bottom and the rice crunchy. Justin wasn’t happy.

  “So he beat you up because you burned dinner?”

  I nod. “He hit me a couple times, splitting open my lip, almost breaking my nose…that time anyway. Then he drug me by my hair and shoved me face first, bent over on the kitchen table.” There is so much tension coiled through Chase’s muscles, I stop and kiss his bare chest, then massage each arm.

  “Go on. I know there’s more.”

  Taking a deep breath, I continue the story. “He ripped off my panties, took the hot spatula off the stove, and spanked me with it. Well, spanking is the wrong word. He hit me so hard he broke skin and bruised me black and blue. I had to sleep on my stomach for a week. In class, I’d use my sweater as a cushion on the hard chairs so no one would figure anything out.” Chase’s breathing was tight and labored.

  “Is that it?” he asks through clenched teeth. I shake my head slowly peering deep into his eyes. I couldn’t look at him when I said the last part.

  “Then he raped me.”

  It took a couple years and a lot of therapy with Dr. Madison to finally admit that what Justin did to me was battery and rape. Admitting it to Chase has me crying into his chest for a good thirty minutes. Chase is a trooper though. He soothes me, speaks softly, and promises me that no one will ever hurt me again. Remarkably after sharing the story and falling asleep on Chase’s chest, it was one of the best night’s sleep in my life. I wake before Chase. It’s Saturday, so we don’t have to work. Although I never know with Chase. Lately, he seems to be making more of an effort to minimize the amount of work he does on the weekends. Instead of waking him, I choose to let him sleep. He never sleeps for long, and after the emotional downpour last night, he probably needs it. Then it dawns on me…today is Bree’s birthday! I do a little naked jig, excited that we’re all meeting up at one of Chase’s swanky restaurants. I can’t wait. Excitement skips through my veins as I make my way into the bathroom. Having everyone I love get together in one place is such a treat and so good for the soul.

  The shower is scalding when I jump in and adjust the dials. I begin to hum a tune happily working the shampoo through my hair and methodically rinsing it. Conditioner follows, but I leave that in to soak into my red tresses while I lather up the body wash. Mmm…I love the smell of vanilla and cherry. So does Chase. He constantly comments on how good I smell. Usually that comment is paired with a sexy smile, and I’d go a long way to see more smiles on his face. When the suds reach my thighs I look down and am taken aback.

  On the side of each thigh are four perfect fingerprint bruises. Seeing the purple marks normally would send me rolling into another bout of self-loathing, but these don’t. Knowing these bruises are from Chase, a physical reminder of last night’s lovemaking, changes them into something akin to a gift. It’s just another bit of proof of the passion with which he took me, his haste to prove his love to me. They weren’t given to harm but to please. I’ve come a long way. A secret smile slips past my lips as I lean my head back and close my eyes while rinsing my hair. When I open them, I’m grinning into the face of the most gorgeous man on the planet.

  “Hey, beautiful, what are you smiling at?” Beautiful is an endearment I’m a-okay with.

  “Oh nothing, just thinking about you and last night,” I purposely glide my hands over my swollen breasts and down my ribs, abdomen, then legs. His eyes follow every movement as if he was caressing me himself.

  His saucy grin abruptly turns cold, and I’m thrown back for a moment. The shower door flies open and a burst of cool air prickles against wet skin. I cover my breasts out of instinct and to prevent further chill.

  “What. The. Fuck. Are. Those?” he points down at my thighs and the fingerprints.

  I smile. “Those are a direct result of someone’s passion,” I waggle my eyebrows. He steps into the shower still wearing his pajama bottoms and hauls me against his bare chest. The water seeps into the grey cotton leaving dark, smudgy, soggy sections.

  “Baby, I’m sorry. I promised I’d never hurt you. Christ! What is wrong with me?” He clutches my back sealing our bare chests against one another with no room to even let the water from the shower trickle through.

  “No, Chase, no. I’m fine. We made love. Sometimes we both get overly excited. I’m not apologizing for the red streaks down your back am I?” He drags his head from the crook of my neck. A grimace mars his sculpted features.

  “Really? You scratched me?” He turns around and sure enough, eight slightly raised lines pucker the skin of his muscular back. They won’t be long lasting. Probably a day or two and they’ll be gone, but for now, I love seeing them there. Anyone in the world could tell this man was taken and taken good!

  I grin. “Not sorry, because I’ll do it again. Maybe tonight.” Biting my lip, I push at his wet pants and they sink to the floor in a squishy heap. “Never apologize for making love to me. I adore your passion, baby.” I give him my most sexy look possible. He needs to understand that he could never truly hurt me.

  “It’s just, I don’t want to mar your skin.” He trails a hand over my breasts down my ribs until he drops to his knees. Before I realize what he’s doing, his lips are on the bruises, kissing and licking each grape-sized mark as if his kisses and mouth alone could will them away. I let him, knowing it’s important for him to make peace with this. It’s going to happen again and again, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  I try to pull him up by tugging on his head, but he shakes me away. “Not done with you. Need to show you my love.” His words are simple but dig deep.

  He gently lifts one of my legs and sets it on the seat inside the shower, opening me, my center at eye level with his face. The anticipation is thrilling, yet brutal as he looks his fill of my sex, water running down and gathering at the opening. I close my eyes when his tongue runs through the weeping slit. Bursts of pleasure jolt through me as he uses his lips and tongue to suck and nip at my most intimate place. Using his thumbs, he opens me further then plunges his tongue deep into my core. Every time he pleasures me this way, he takes me to new heights of joy, startling me with mind-bending orgasms. I start to shake holding myself up by leaning on the tile wall as he fucks me with his tongue. When he brings his thumb into play twirling it in tight circles just where I need it most, I break. A bone-melting cry soars past my lips, echoing off the walls in our steamy haven. Chase is right there to catch me as my legs tremble and give out. Strong arms hold me up while I gasp for air, the steam in the shower so thick it adds to the disorientation.

  “Thank you, for trusting me. For loving me. I love you, Gillian.”

  Right then, I know we’ll be okay. Reinforcing his feelings by making love to me doesn’t hurt anyone; it only heals.

  Chapter 4

  Gillian

  When in Rome, live like the Romans. And that is exactly what I am going to do tonight. It is Bree’s birthday, and we are going to one of Chase’s swanky restaurants in the heart of downtown San Francisco. As with the classy establishment in Chicago, “Greens” as it’s simply named, rises above the clouds in a modern skyscraper not far from our penthouse. As a matter of fact, Chase pointed it out from the rooftop garden this evening where we watched the sun set while snuggled in each other’s arms.

  After the bathroom incident t
his morning, my fiancée pours on the charm. He takes me shopping where we got Bree an incredible Buddha statue from an import/export store he owns on one of the many San Francisco piers. The unique statue will work well in her yoga studio. However, it’s carved out of solid limestone and heavy as the dickens. Originally, it was imported from India. I didn’t even want to think about how much it cost. A little sign near the bottom said $10,000, which almost gave me heart palpitations. I’m really trying hard not to complain about how much money Chase spends on things related to me. It’s his money and up to him how he chooses to use it. Besides, I am really excited about the gift. It is one of the most remarkable statues I’ve ever seen, second only to an ornate life-sized angel hidden away in a dark corner of the lot that caught my eye.

  The angel is white with a greyish hue to her stone. A flowing garment draped modestly over her features. Her shoulders are bare and perfectly smooth showing the dips in her clavicle bones. The most extravagant feature is the wide wings that jut out spreading a solid five to six feet. She has both arms away from her sides but not held up in praise. They are level with her chest, both hands held up, palms cupped toward the heavens. The angel’s head is bowed down in a respectful pose. It’s as if she is accepting God’s purpose for her and becoming one with it. I fall in love with her instantly.

  “You’re taken with her?” Chase’s lips graze the side of my neck under my ear sending spikes of excitement to skitter down my spine.

  “She’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

  He nods against my shoulder and wraps both arms around my waist hugging me close, my back to his front.

  “She’s a guardian angel. I saved this piece from ruin in Greece. She was in the garden of a decrepit abandoned mansion that was being torn down. I bought the land for an environmental project that’s been in the works for a few years. Still is. Didn’t know what to do with her, so I shipped her here to find a home.”

  “Why was the mansion abandoned?”

  “The family line that had lived there for centuries died out. The last remaining member didn’t have any children or family to speak of, so when the last living member died, their fortune was donated to charity and the house sat untouched for years.”

  I reach out and touch a feather on one of her wings. It’s cool to the touch. “That’s unfortunate,” I murmur enchanted with the angel.

  I could feel him smiling against my cheek as we stare at the intricate wings spreading wide, and the angel’s face poised in a secret smile.

  “It is. The house once was beautiful.”

  Lightness fills me as I hug Chase’s arms closer around me. “I didn’t mean the house. I meant the family dying out. It’s sad to imagine a future with no children running through your dreams. Don’t you think?”

  Chase stiffens; his forearms tighten against my body. He doesn’t speak.

  “You do want children?” I ask, just now realizing we’d never spent any time talking about the future beyond being together and getting married. Spinning around in his arms, I stare into his face. His eyes are thoughtful, not harsh. That is a good sign.

  “I guess I haven’t ever thought about it before, because I’ve been so focused on building my empire. With you, though, I find myself wanting and considering things I’d never wanted or considered before.” His tone is a low grumble, the perfect pitch for seduction as his nimble fingers dig into the soft skin at my hips.

  His answer has me smiling, my heart filling with hope for the future. “We have time. But start thinking about it. I want to carry your son or daughter one day.” He gasps at my response and spreads a large hand over my stomach, looking down at his hand dreamily.

  “When you say it like that, I want nothing more than to see you bloom with my child. The heir to everything we have.” His smile is wistful when he leans down and takes my lips with his.

  Gillian

  The rest of the day was spent trying on the dresses Dana, Chase’s assistant, had efficiently placed in my closest. Of course, all of them fit perfectly, which irks me. I want to hate his perky assistant, but, really, she hasn’t done anything to me, and she’s been nothing but professional with Chase. It did bother me that there was a woman his age in his life who knew him better than I did, or at least knew his business side better. He told me he never confided in anyone about his past. Only his cousins and I know what he’d been through before moving in with his Uncle Charles.

  As it turns out, we’ll be seeing his uncle and mother tomorrow for a family brunch. His mother insisted on it. Even though my guy typically bristles at someone else attempting to take charge, he most certainly jumps when that woman speaks. I cringe, realizing that if I’m honest with myself, I wouldn’t have a problem spending time there if she liked me or even gave me a chance. Mr. Control Freak thinks I’m reading too much into his stoic Mother. Swears that she has nothing but pleasant things to say about me, but I’m not buying it. A woman knows when another woman doesn’t like her. There’s a look, a sensation that you get when you’re around them. Almost like there’s a tension surrounding the two of us. When Colleen and I are sharing a space, it permeates the air making it as thick as walking through molasses.

  “A million dollars for your thoughts?” Chase asks.

  “A million? Really? Do you always go overboard?”

  He looks at me deadpan. “Yes, when it comes to you, I’d pay just about any price to know your thoughts.”

  I laugh and cuddle into his side. He swipes away a russet lock of hair pushing it behind my ear. These moments of quiet, sitting in the back of his limo, heading to our destination, are precious to me. During the day he’s a giant, a business tycoon set on one goal and one goal alone, building and keeping his empire growing. At home, he’s all man, a sexual god, and sometimes gentle lover. But when it’s still, calm, that moment when you can hear your mate breathe, those are the times where I feel most content. Any couple can burn up the sheets, share careers, but how many can just be with one another. No pretenses, no pressing issues, the complexities of life all gone, leaving you stripped bare. What do you have left? Me, I have Chase, and he’s all I need.

  As if he can read my thoughts, he kisses my temple then caresses my cheek with the pad of his thumb. His eyes are dark, midnight in the shadow of the car.

  “You’re all I need,” he whispers then brushes his lips over mine. Expressing my exact thoughts back to me has me fearing I said them aloud, but I know I didn’t. We’re connected in a way that defies reality.

  His phone chirps, and the connection we have is not lost but definitely put on hold. Our moment of peace is gone, but it will be back. We have a lifetime to experience the quiet, and that thought makes me blissfully happy.

  As Chase barks orders into the phone, all big businessman once more, we arrive at the restaurant, and Jack opens the door. Austin is flanking the door by the limo. If I was alone, he’d be helping me out of the car and escorting me in. When Chase is with me, he stands just off to the side, ensuring no suspicious characters get too close. Chase exits, looks around, then grabs my hand, swiftly pulling me into his side. His hand grips my hip protectively as a hoard of paparazzi come barreling towards us, cameras flashing.

  “Looks like Dana’s tip to the media that we’d be at Red SF didn’t work. Showtime, my darling.” Chase keeps me close and moves forward. “Austin, not even a finger,” he growls as the paparazzi come from every direction.

  “Chase, Gillian, look here!” one screams.

  “No, Chase, Chase over here. Show us your bride!” another hollers.

  “Yeah, let’s see her rock!” A rotund man shouts, shooting his camera so close to my face I could hear the rapid-fire clicking. Austin shoves the man’s hand from in front of me and holds him back.

  The sound is deafening and the flashes blinding. I stumble in my too high heels, but Chase catches my waist, Austin steadying me at the elbow. I’m flanked on both sides by the men now. Jack is in front of Chase, pushing photographers out of the way so
we can get through. I can’t see as the flashes continue to flare, so instead I just tuck my head down and stare at the ground, letting Chase and Austin lead the way.

  Finally, we make it past the lobby and into the sanctuary of the elevator.

  “Jesus that was crazy. It’s never been that bad before.” I take a deep breath as Chase rubs his hand up and down my bare back. I’ve worn another dress open in the back. My man loves to touch my skin. And since I crave his touch, it’s a win-win scenario any way you look at it. Besides, when I put on this form fitting little black dress, I felt hot. It’s a respectable length, goes down almost to the knee in a pencil skirt style and comes up into a boat-neck collar, running along the clavicle, and three-quarter sleeves. The surprise is when I turn around. The entire back drops away into a cowl shape that dips all the way down to the top of my ass. It’s extremely revealing from behind, but shows absolutely nothing but tight curves in the front. I’ve paired it with the black, platform Louis Vuitton shoes Dana ordered and nothing else.

  That’s my other surprise. Eventually, Chase will slide his hand down to touch my ass. It’s inevitable. He won’t be able to contain himself for long. He puts on a good show of being completely in control, and in most things, he is. Except for me. Bare skin is kryptonite for my Superman. Mentally, I give myself a high five for going commando. Men can do it; why not women? Besides, it makes me feel wild. There’s something unbelievably freeing about not wearing underwear.

  “Speaking of the media frenzy, Dana has been hassling me about setting up the interview for People magazine about our engagement and upcoming wedding.” I cringe when he mentions Dana, knowing my jealousy is childish and unfounded. He continues, “Baby, doing the interview is a good idea. It would be on our terms and help deflect the paparazzi. Right now, we’re like a shiny new toy to them. Once we get our interview out there, it will take away from the mystery and excitement. Understand?”