The scent of his cologne envelops me like a second hug—leather, pine, and safety. “Cecily…fuck. Cecily! Can you hear me?” A broken moan leaves my throat the moment I see his face, all hard, dark, and murderous. I try to open my lips to say something, but they won’t move. And neither do my hands or limbs. I’m still paralyzed, at someone else’s mercy, but I don’t feel threatened. If anything, I’m finally safe.
Ahhh
