Page 75 of Inexplicable

“You okay?” I asked, my chest still heaving.

“Yes,” she panted. “Bad memory completely replaced now.”

I stood and pulled her to her feet.

I adjusted the stream of water and started washing my woman so I could touch every inch of her body.

I’d kept my promise, and I was going to explore her body.

We were naked together in the shower.

Not touching Jenna had gotten to be way too much to ask of a man who was certifiably crazy about her.

Chapter 20

Jenna

“Thank you,” I said to Brock after we’d gotten into bed together after that orgasmic shower.

We were both naked, which didn’t bother me in the least.

It wasn’t like we hadn’t thoroughly seen and explored each other’s bodies, and I loved the skin-on-skin contact.

He’d looked at me like I had the body of a goddess, and I didn’t think he’d registered my scars as anything ugly.

That had been a huge relief for me.

Brock had a firm arm around my waist, and my head was on his chest.

I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time.

Maybe I should tackle my bad memories more often.

The lights were off, but there was just enough illumination in the room for me to trace a beautifully done tattoo of a rising phoenix on his chest.

It was all black and completely fierce. It suited his personality perfectly.

There was another, much smaller tat so far up on his shoulder that I’d never seen it.

It was also black, with two dog tags and a chain. One of the tags was filled in with black ink. The other had initials.

“What in the hell are you thanking me for?” Brock said in an amused voice. “I should be the one thanking you right now.”

I snorted. “I don’t think many guys would be patient enough to let me experiment with their body like that.”

“If they’re smart, they would,” he said drily.

I smiled into the darkness. “You helped me conquer something that’s kind of been haunting me for a while. I guess I wasn’t great at picking men.”

“They were assholes,” he grumbled. “I think the one who forced you should be in jail.”

I sighed. I kind of liked Brock’s overprotectiveness sometimes.

The guy had freaked me out, but he hadn’t raped me. There were probably women who liked that kind of thing, but it had been unpleasant for me because of my history.

“I think he would have let me go if I’d really tried to fight him off. I didn’t,” I explained. “I was having some flashbacks and I was so shocked that I just let it happen.”

“That happen often?” Brock asked.