Chapter Twenty-Two
In the aftermath the air is moist and salt, an ocean made of our bodies, a sky made from panting breaths. I’ve imagined s*x a hundred thousand times—all of them with Damon Scott. My dreams came up with equations, the things he would do to me, the things he would take.
My dreams could never come up with this.
I’m blind in these deep waters. Not helpless. I reach for him, feeling along burning skin and clenching muscles. When I find the right place, his whole body shudders. The sound of his gasped breath embeds itself inside me, fitting into some place with its exact shape.
He grasps my wrist hard enough to make me squeak. “No, Penny.”
For a moment I struggle with him, tugging at my hand as if I have a chance of dislodging him. As if I’m the one calling the shots righ
