While she was calming down, her body trembling as the heartache bled out of her, I was trying my best not to notice how her breasts felt crushed against my chest. Just like every other man in her life, I was the bastard who couldn’t ignore how my body reacted to her presence. Right here on this couch, where her mother’s boyfriend had fucked her while demanding she call him Daddy, and also the same place she’d helped Rowan stage David’s murder. What the fuck was wrong with me?
