Page 103 of An Oath at Midnight

Guilt and frustration filled me. “But my scars, I’m not sure I can—”

“You saw me, didn’t you?” he said, tugging on my shirt again. “That night I left your room while you slept. When I came back, you were in bed, but you were faking it, weren’t you, baby?”

Oh goddess. I swallowed, audibly. “Yes.”

“I woke up beside you, and I was so fucking hard, wanting you, I had to go to the tree house and get in the shower. I told myself I just needed the cold water to cool me down, that I had to stop thinking about you like that, but there was no stopping it, and I closed my eyes and let the fantasies play out. After that, I had no choice but to stroke my cock while thinking of you, and it wasn’t the first time, Mags.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “You saw me, didn’t you?” he asked again.

I nodded, struggling to breathe. “Yes.” I gripped the side of his neck. “And you were…goddess, so beautiful.”

His nostrils flared. “You liked it. You liked watching me?”

I nodded again.

“Have you ever thought about me like that? Have you ever touched yourself while you did?” he rasped.

I blew out a shaky breath. “Yes.”

Bram’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, and a husky caw rose in his throat. “You have?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck,” he snarled.

“That’s what you were talking about? When you said there were other things we could do? You were talking about us doing that…together?” I said.

His mouth was so close now, his breath brushing my lips when he spoke. “Would you? Would you do that? Touch yourself and let me watch?”

His black eyes were locked on mine, the heat of him, his scent filling my head, making me freaking dizzy. “Yes. Will you?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation.

I wanted him, really, really badly.

A shudder moved through him, and his nostrils flared. “How the fuck am I going to think about anything else now?”

A car horn blasted somewhere nearby, jolting us from the intimacy of the moment. I cleared my throat. “I ah…I guess we better go in.”

“I guess so,” he said and tugged on my shirt one more time before releasing it.

“You think you can manage to hold my hand?” he asked.

I took his. “Yeah.” My hands had the least amount of damage, and holding hands was usually fine, but with the way my scars had been lately, I wasn’t sure how much longer that would last. There was no pain now, though, no burning when his skin touched mine. I’d been trying not to think about it, why the pain was getting worse, but something was very wrong, and we both knew it. It wasn’t just because of what Clayton did to me. There was something else, something inside me, and it was growing in strength.

We walked into the building, got in the elevator, and I hit the button for the fifth floor.

“You should probably take your hair down. If he’s a shifter and he sees your markers, he’ll know what you are,” I said.

Bram gripped my hand tighter. “I don’t think putting my hair down will hide it, not with this guy.” He pulled the hair tie out anyway, letting his hair fall around his face. “But no reason to broadcast it.”

The doors slid open, and we strode up to the reception desk.

“We have an appointment with Luke Donaghy,” I said to the receptionist. He asked for our names. “Brad and Magda. We’re here about the Roxburgh High School reunion.”

The guy smiled. “Ah, yes. He’s expecting you. Go through.”

“Thanks.”

“Brad and Magda?” Bram said, lips twitching as we headed for the office door.