MELISSA
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you sooner, sweetheart,” Chase says in the hotel room as he helps me out of my clothes. “Are you all right?”
My lip hurts; he has to kiss me on the other side of my mouth so he doesn’t aggravate it. “I will be. The knot on my head’s probably the worst of it, but I barely even have a headache. Let’s just check the damage.”
It’s not as bad as I expected. I’m sore, but the actual bruises, cuts, and welts aren’t remotely hospital-worthy. I’ve had a lot worse.
He kisses each injury as we uncover it, and leads me to the bathroom in my underwear before almost reverently stripping me. He slips off his turtleneck and draws me a bath, settling me into the hot, perfumed water and leaning on the edge of the bathtub to carefully scrub me down.
My wrists sting
