She turned the bath on as hot as it would go and sat on the little wooden stool, watching the column of water ripple in the center of the steam. 

She couldn’t breathe. 

She didn’t want to cry. 

She was stronger than that. 

But apparently, she wasn’t. She didn’t know anything anymore. Not about the past. Not about herself. 

Nothing. 

She shut herself out. She couldn’t help it. He broke her. Sinking into the hot bath, She let out a sigh. The bubbles popped around her, the scent of vanilla wafting through the air. The door to the bathroom quietly opened and she knew without looking that it was John. 

 

Marlena needed him tonight.

 

The penthouse fell silent for an endless moment, and then the gentle chords of “Mad About You” by Hooverphonic began to play. She felt John approaching the threshold before she saw him, the air crackled with the violent energy of an impending winter storm. He rounded the corner from the hallway leading to the bathroom. 

She lost her breath. Her choice of music clashed with the emotion seething from him. Her beautiful, savagely elegant warrior. 

The love of her life. So tormented that the sight of him brought hot, stinging tears to her eyes. He jerked to a halt when he saw her, his hands clenching and releasing at his sides, his eyes wild and nostrils flaring. 

“John.” 

He sucked in a breath at the sound of her voice. What happened on the plane changed him. She watched the shift come over him, like a door slamming shut. One moment, he was bristling with emotion. The next, he was cool as ice, his surface as smooth as glass.

She knew he was there without turning to face him. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice dangerously choked with tears. 

“Finding you.” Because he was lost.

 

He came in, the room was in a complete fog and her sobs had gotten wet and loud. He crouched in front of her, putting his hands on her shaking shoulders. 

“I couldn’t leave,” he said tenderly, pulling her to him. 

She couldn’t resist. Wanted to but didn’t. 

She held both desires in her mind as he slid along the side of the tub until he was sitting on the floor by her side. He placed his hand on her arm. It was still dry. The bath tap roared and steamed. He didn’t say or ask anything, just sat there. 

She let him. 

She didn’t have the strength to explain herself. She let him comfort her. Let him command her. Let him envelop her completely. She cried, but she was dormant inside. Her guts had been emptied into him through her tears. When he leaned into the tub to turn off the water, she missed the shelter of his arms but didn’t need them anymore. 

 

“John, I can do this...I don’t need your help” She wiped her eyes with her fingertips. 

“I know.” He rolled up his sleeves. Her skin stung at the waterline as she sunk in and stretched out. 

She was fucking gorgeous. 

Her messy blond hair hung around her face, and those hazel eyes were fixed on him, silently begging him to make her feel good. 

She didn’t have to beg. 

His cock was already throbbing. his hands were fucking twitching to feel her skin. He looked down a little further where her breasts sat, nipples hard and waiting for his teeth. His gaze dropped again into the water, and he moaned. Her pussy was still the most perfect thing he’d ever seen. 

His tongue watered as he thought about licking her from her ass to her center. He could have stared at her center forever. He twisted the handle and gave her a medium heat. The spray shot out of the ceiling, and he hit a second dial for the handheld to turn on. As steam began to fill the room again. 

“Talk about it,” he commanded. He didn’t ask her if she wanted to or if she felt alright. He told her what to do, and in that was an odd relief. She didn’t have to choose whether or not to be intimate. She didn’t have to decide whether or not to burden him or pull back into a shell.

He didn’t say ‘tell me’. 

He took himself out of the equation by commanding her to speak about it, whether it was to him, herself, or the four walls. 

“I can’t put it in order,” She replied. 

“Tell it as it comes to you.” 

She took a deep breath and told it as he ran his fingers over her shoulders. 

“I don’t… I don’t know how not to feel like that. And I’m mad at myself for not seeing that I wasn't over it and I’m mad because… I’m mad at myself because it affected my work today. And that night, I needed you...” 

Tears welled up in the corner of her eyes. “There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about that night,” she said, her voice choked.

The tap dripped. 

Her skin tingled. 

 

His hand brushed the surface of the water, making a rippled V behind it. “Doc, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you..” 

He had to stop to clear a lump of gunk from his throat. It threatened to come up in a sob as soon as he spoke.

“But mostly, I’m sorry I went on with Kristen. For leaving you alone with your nightmares...” He ran his fingers over the surface of the water again, detouring up her knee.

 

He had to stop.

He couldn't do this.

Not now, not ever.

 

His body ached when he slid his hand back to the water and away from her heated flash. 

“What are you doing?” she asked. 

He pulled away from her, and she took a quick glance around. He backed up a few steps toward the entrance of the bathroom door. 

“I’m here, Doc, I got you... finish your shower, I’ll leave when you’re done,” he told her. She glanced at the handheld showerhead that was in the corner and the one built into the ceiling overhead. 

 

“Where are you going?” 

They were friends. 

He remembered her body all too well. He needed to keep her safe, he needed to stay out of her life in order to do that. Had it been that, he would have torn off her clothes with his fucking teeth when they were in the car. But, for now, it was safest that he got out. 

“I’ll wait for you downstairs.” 

“Why?” 

“Because, if I stay here another minute, I won’t be able to stop myself from touching you, Doc.” 

“John, I don’t want you to leave.” Her voice trailed off, “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

She turned in the water as she ran her hands over her soaked breasts, droplets slid down her face, disappearing as they reached the hot water. Her eyes locked with his as she stared at him. 

“Can you hand me the shampoo?”

“Doc?” he’d asked that question so many goddamn times. 

“I want you to wash me,” she said. 

“I’d have to touch you.” 

“I know.” he gripped the top of the door frame where the wood met the wall and squeezed the fucker, like he was getting ready to demo it. 

“Tell me, Marlena.” 

“I want you to touch me. Please, John, don’t make me beg.” he walked inside the shower, the spray beating down on his clothes, causing his jeans to become heavy, his shirt to stick to him, his shoes to squeak. 

 

He didn’t fucking care. 

 

He lifted the bottle of shampoo off the shelf and squirted some into his hands and placed them on her head, moving his fingers in circles over her scalp. The bubbles and lather spread all the way down her strands. Her breathing changed. Light moans filled his ears. 

 

Fuck, he loved those sounds. 

 

The wetness of his jeans was weighing on his cock. He wanted to rip them off, lift her to his waist, and sink inside her. But she hadn’t given him permission to do that yet. That was why he stayed dressed—to stop himself from fucking her and to keep his cock away from her. 

 

She closed her eyes as she tilted her head back, and calmness spread over her face. It was the same way she looked when she slept. 

Completely at peace. 

He'd made her feel like that. And he wanted it to stay that way, to empty her mind of all her thoughts. For her to trust his hands whenever they were around her because he wouldn’t ever do anything that would cause her lids to open. 

“John,” she groaned. 

He swiped a small line of bubbles over her cheek. 

“Yes?”

“That feels so incredible. You’re making me sleepy.” 

“Then, fall asleep, Doc.” 

She looked up at him through her lashes. They were long, and drops of water clung to them. “I’m not ready for bed.” She reached for one of his hands and held it between hers. “At least, not yet.” he lifted the handheld to rinse her hair and clean the shampoo off his fingers. When all the bubbles were gone, he filled his palms with soap and rubbed both sides until they were completely covered. 

 

He started massaging her shoulders, using the same pressure he had on her scalp. He rotated across each muscle, squeezing his way down her arms and over her chest until he got to her breasts. He cupped them, grazing the ends of each nipple. They were hard, the skin around them puckered. Her mouth was open, teeth bared, like she was about to fucking growl. 

 

He knew she liked pain. 

 

He knew she liked the surprise of it even more. So, he left her breasts and skimmed his fingers across her navel. There were spots where she was still bruised by Mark’s doing, but every day, they were getting closer to a normal color. And, since she didn’t wince as he touched them, he knew they were starting to feel better. Once he got to her center, he wouldn’t be able to pull his hands away, so he avoided it by going to her legs. He knelt on the tub floor and worked his way across the outside of her thighs, circling around her knees, kneading her calves, and moving down to her feet. 

Even those were beautiful. 

He pressed his knuckles into the center of her arches and behind each toe.

 

“Oh my God,” she sighed, gripping the edge of the bath with both hands, looking like it was taking every bit of strength she had not to slide off. Gradually, he rose again, his thumbs going first as he rubbed across her thighs. Her legs spread apart, and he lifted himself an in he higher. The bubbles cleared to reveal what he was craving for years. Staring down at her center where the two perfect fucking folds housed the clit he wanted to lick. He had to hold himself back from leaning forward and sucking it into his mouth. 

 

Her pussy was all he wanted. 

Hers alone.

 

All he’d thought about every night since he saw her naked 3 years ago. But, every time he’d watched her, he’d thought about what her pussy tasted like. And that had been daily because they worked together. 

 

“What do you want, John?” She had used his words, but they didn’t get his attention. He was too focused to look at her face. 

None was as sexy as Marlena. 

He wanted to know what it would feel like to slip his tongue over each side of her clit, how she would sound as he flicked the end of it, if she’d beg for his teeth or his fingers or both. 

 

“I want to taste you, Doc,” he hissed. 

 

She stood up, water dripping down her long naked body. She sat at the long wooden shower bench, her feet on the edge of the bench, and curled her toes around it. Moving her ass as close to the ledge as she could get it. 

“Please do it,” she urged. 

He finally looked in her eyes. 

“Louder, Marlena. I need to hear you beg.” His hands framed her center, creating the perfect triangle around it. They were still wet and soapy, and could so easily dip down and slip right in. But she would get nothing until he got what he needed to hear. 

“I want you to taste me,” she moaned. “So badly. That’s all I’ve been thinking of...please...make me forget.”

There it was. 

The response he’d been waiting for. 

He licked across his bottom lip as his stare dropped, taking in the whole section of her body that he was going to eat. The longer he waited, the more it teased him. his mouth watered for her center. His fingers ached to remember what the inside of her felt like. 

The scent of soap wasn’t what filled him. Marlena was sweeter than that. Keeping his nose against her, he opened his mouth and licked around the entire rim of her center. 

 

Then, slowly—so fucking slowly—he dragged the tip to the top of her lips and down to her ass. 

 

Oh, God.

 

Her taste was as good as her smell, like he’d poured sugar right down the middle of his fucking tongue. He wanted to rub his entire face across her pussy just so he could keep her scent and her flavor on him. So, he could have both once he got out of this shower.

 

“John,” she gasped as he worked his way down and up again, nipping the top of her clit. “That feels so good.” Her hand pressed against the side of his face, as though she were trying to keep him from going anywhere. 

She didn’t have to worry. His mouth wasn’t leaving. He reached behind him to get the soap off his hand. Once it was washed off, he drove two fingers inside her. She was so fucking tight. So wet. 

 

“Oh my God,” she sighed. “Yes....” There was a difference between water and the slickness inside a woman’s center. What he felt in Marlena wasn’t water. She was turned on. And, as he dragged his tongue across that slickness, he could taste just how turned on she was. He buried both fingers as he pointed his tongue over her clit, and he started flicking it. 

 

He was relentless. And the orgasm she was about to have would be for the both of them. He gave her a third finger, stretching the three and then folding them together while they thrust in and out. His tongue didn’t move from the top of her lips, but his speed and pressure increased. He knew she was close when her hips began to buck in his rhythm. She was moaning, almost lightly screaming from all the pleasure. She tightened around his knuckles and released. So, he flattened his tongue, covering all of her, and he moved in hard, fast strokes. He watched her face as her orgasm built. 

 

Her eyes closed, lips parted. Her skin turned flush, and her chest heaved. It wasn’t just her sounds that told him she was coming. It was the way her center hugged and pulsed around his fingers. It was her coating his skin with a wetness that was even thicker than before. And it was the way her navel shook in spasms as each shudder worked through her body. When she eventually stilled, her eyes opened, and he gently pulled his fingers out. But he didn’t move his face or his lips. Her scent was even stronger now that she’d come. And even more delicious. 

“Ready for bed?” he asked, looking up. 

 

Her legs were still pushed far apart, her toes curled around the edge, but her breathing was finally under control.

She needed rest. 

“Wait here,” he told her. He went outside the shower, and knowing she was watching him, he kept his back to her and stripped off his clothes. Naked, he reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Then, he grabbed a second one and brought it over to Marlena. 

 

Wrapping a towel around her, she left the bathroom. John followed. The sight of him spurred a reaction so abrupt it was like a physical blow. Her breath caught and her heart lurched into an exciting rhythm, her entire being responding to the sight of him with a potent rush of yearning. It felt like years since she’d last been with him. 

“Why did you come back?” She pointed out.

That didn’t stop her from being thrilled that he did. Her gaze drank him in, roaming avidly over his lean, broad-shouldered frame. He wore black sweats and a well-loved sweatshirt. 

 

He stared at her fiercely, his sensual lips drawn into a grim line. “I couldn’t stay away.” John was an impossibly gorgeous man, so beautiful that people stopped and stared when he walked by. She’d once thought of him as a sex god, and his frequent—and enthusiastic—displays of prowess constantly proved her right, but she also knew he was all too human. 

Like her, he’d been broken. 

The odds were against them making it. 

 

Her chest expanded on a deep breath, her body responding to the proximity of his. Even though he stood several feet away, she could feel the heady attraction, the magnetic pull of being near the other half of her soul. It’d been that way with them from the very first meeting, both of them inexorably drawn together. 

They’d mistaken their ferocious mutual captivation for lust until they realized they couldn’t breathe without each other. She fought the urge to run into his arms, the place where she so desperately wanted to be. But he was too still, too tightly reined. She waited in exquisite anticipation for his cue. 

 

God, she loved him so much. 

 

His hands fisted at his sides. “I need you.” 

 

Her core tightened in response to the roughness of his voice, the rasp of it warm and luxurious. “You don’t have to sound so happy about it,” She teased breathlessly, trying to lighten his mood before he got her beneath him. She loved him wild, and she loved him tender. She’d take him any way she could get him, but it’d been so long . . . 

Her skin was already tingling and tightening expectantly, craving the greedy reverence of his touch. She feared what would happen if he came at her full force when she was so starved for his body. They might tear each other apart.

 

“It’s killing me,” he said gruffly. “Being without you. Missing you. I feel like my fucking sanity depends on you, Marlena, and you want me to be happy about that?” Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips and he growled, sending a shiver through her. “Well . . . I’m happy about this. Right now..” 

 

The tension in his posture visibly eased. Then she remembered Mark’s hands all over her . His weight pressing her into the cabin's sofa . . . the tearing pain between her legs as he rammed into her over and over . . . she trembled with renewed fury. 

John took a deep breath. His hand reached up to his chest and rubbed at the area over his heart as if it hurt him. 

“I love you,” She told him, her eyes stinging with fresh tears. “I love you so much.” 

“Doc.” He reached her with quick strides, dropping his wet car keys on the floor and shoving both hands into her damp hair. He was shaking, and she cried, overwhelmed by the knowledge of how much he needed her. Tilting her head to the angle he wanted, John took her mouth with searing possession, tasting her with slow, deep licks. 

His passion and hunger exploded across her senses, and she whimpered, her hands tangling in his sweatshirt. His answering groan vibrated through her, tightening her nipples and sending goosebumps racing across her skin. She melted into him, her fingers sunk into the silky black mane of his hair. She fell into the kiss, swept away by the lush carnality of it. 

A sob escaped her. 

 

“Don’t,” he breathed, pulling back to cradle her jaw. He looked into her eyes. “It shreds me when you cry.” 

“It’s too much.” She trembled. His beautiful eyes looked as weary as hers. He nodded grimly.

“What I did—” 

“Not that. How I feel about you.” 

He rubbed the tip of his nose against her, his hands sliding reverently along her bare arms. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

His eyes closed. “God, when you left tonight . . . I didn’t know if you’d come back . . . if I’d lost you—”

“I need you, too, John.” 

His grip tightened on her. “There is no guarantee you’d be safe unless Mark was dead.” 

“John, you cut me off. Shut me out. You and me—” 

“Forever.” His fingertips pressed against her parted lips. “It’s over, Marlena. Don’t argue about something that’s too late to change.” 

She brushed his hand away. “Is it over? Can we be together now, or are we still hiding our feelings from Kristen? From our families?” 

He held her gaze, hiding nothing, letting her see his pain and fear. “That’s what I’m here to ask you.”

“If it’s up to me, I’ll never let you go,” She said vehemently. “Never.” 

His hands slid down her throat to her shoulders, blazing a hot trail across her skin. “I couldn’t handle the truth,” he said softly. “I was afraid, and I ran . . . I was afraid you’d be disappointed in me.” 

“John, no—” 

“I would never hurt you.” She caught the waistband of his sweats and tugged, even though she couldn’t budge him. “I know that.” And physically, she had no doubts; he’d always been careful with her, always cautious.

 

“Do you?” He searched her face, as attuned as always to what wasn’t said. “Letting you go again would kill me, but I wouldn’t hurt you to keep you.” 

“I don’t want to go anywhere.” 

He exhaled audibly. “I will be talking to the police tomorrow, to get a feel for where things stand with Mark.” 

Tilting her head back, she pressed her lips gently to his. 

“I have to know that you can live with what I’ve done,” he said softly, wrapping her hair around his finger. 

“I think so. Can you?” His mouth found hers again. “I can survive anything if I have you.” She reached under his sweatshirt, seeking and finding his warm, golden skin. His muscles were hard and ridged beneath her palms, his body a seductive and virile work of art. Marlena licked his lips, her teeth catching the full curve along the bottom and biting gently. 

He groaned. 

The sound of his pleasure slid over her like a caress. 

“Touch me.” 

The words were an order, but his tone was a plea. “I am.”

 Reaching behind him, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand around. He thrust his cock shamelessly into her palm, grinding. Her fingers curled around the thick, heavy length, her pulse quickening at the realization that he was commando beneath his sweats. 

 

“God,” she breathed. “You make me so hot.” His blue eyes were fierce on her face; his cheeks flushed and his sculpted lips parted. He never tried to hide the effect she had on him, never pretended that he had any more control over his response to her than she had to him. It made his dominance in the bedroom all the more exciting, knowing that he was similarly as helpless to the attraction between them. Her chest tightened. 

 

She still couldn’t believe that he was hers, that she got to see him this way, so open and hungry and sexy as hell . . . John tugged her towel open. He inhaled sharply when it hit the floor and she stood before him completely naked. 

 

“Oh, Marlena.” His voice throbbed with emotion, making her eyes sting. He yanked his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside. Then he reached for her, stepping carefully into her, prolonging the moment when their bare skin would touch.

He gripped her hips, his fingers flexing restlessly, his breathing quick and harsh. The tips of her breasts touched him first, sending a sudden rush of sensation through her body. 

She gasped. 

 

He crushed her to him with a growl, lifting her feet from the floor and carrying her backward toward the bed. 

 

Her thighs hit the mattress and she landed on her butt, falling to her back with John leaning over her. He hitched her up with an arm banded around her back, centering her on the bed before he settled atop her. His mouth was on her breast before she knew it, his lips soft and warm, the suction fast and greedy. He plumped the heavyweight in his hand, kneading possessively. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he groaned. His skin was hot against her cool flesh, his weight so welcome after the long nights without him. She hooked her legs around his calves and shoved her hands beneath his waistband to grip his taut, hard ass. She tugged him into her, arching her hips to feel his cock through the cotton that separated them. Wanting him inside her, so that she’d know for certain he was hers again. 

 

“Say it,” she coaxed, needing the words he swore were inadequate. He pushed up and looked down at her, gently brushing her hair back from her forehead. 

He swallowed hard. 

Rearing, she caught his beautifully etched mouth in a kiss. “I’ll say this first: I love you.” He closed his eyes , wrapping his arms around me. John squeezed so tight she almost couldn’t breathe. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “Too much.” His fervent declaration reverberated through her. She buried her face in his shoulder and cried. 

“Doc.” His fist clenched in her hair. 

Lifting her head, she took his mouth, their kiss flavored with the salt of her tears. Her lips moved desperately over his as if he’d be gone at any second and she had no time to get her fill of him. 

 

“Marlena. Let me . . .” He cupped her face, licking deep into her mouth. “Let me love you.” 

“Please,” she whispered, her fingers linking behind his neck to capture him. His erection lay hot and heavy against the lips of her center, the weight of him the perfect pressure on her throbbing clit. 

“Don’t stop.” 

“Never. I can’t.” His hand cupped her buttock, lifting her into a deft roll of his hips. She gasped as the pleasure radiated through her, her nipples beading hard and tight against his chest. The light dusting of crisp hair was an unbearable stimulation. Her core ached, begging for the hard-driving thrust of his cock. Her nails raked his back from shoulder to hips. He arched into the rough caress with a low growl, his head thrown back in deliciously erotic abandon. 

 

“Again,” he ordered gruffly, his face flushed and lips parted. 

Surging upward, she sank her teeth into his pectoral, just over his heart. John hissed, quivering, and took it. She couldn’t contain the ferocious swell of emotion that needed release—the love and need, the anger and fear. 

 

And the pain. 

God, the pain. 

 

She still felt it keenly. She wanted to tear into him. 

To punish as well as pleasure. 

To make him experience some small measure of what she had when he’d pushed her away. Her tongue stroked over the slight indentations left by her teeth and his hips rocked into her, his cock sliding through the parted lips of her center. 

 

“My turn,” he whispered darkly. Leaning on one arm, the biceps thick and beautifully defined, he squeezed her breast in his other hand. His head lowered and his lips surrounded the taut point of her nipple. His mouth was scorching hot, his tongue a rough velvet lash against her tender flesh. When his teeth bit into the furled tip, she cried out, her body jerking as sharp need arrowed to her core. She clutched at his hair, too impassioned to be gentle. Her legs wrapped around him, tightening, echoing her need to claim him. 

Possess him. 

Make him hers again. 

“John,” she moaned. Her temples were wet from the trails of her tears, her throat tight and hurting. “I’m here, baby,” he breathed, nibbling across her cleavage to her other breast. His diabolical fingers tugged at the wet nipple he’d left behind, pinching it gently until she pushed up and into his hand. 

“Don’t fight me. Let me love you.” 

She realized then that she was pulling at his hair, trying to urge him away even as she fought to get closer. He had her under siege, seducing her with his stunning male perfection and intimate expertise with her body. And she was surrendering. 

Her hands roamed restlessly as her legs caged him. Still, he slipped farther away from her, his mouth whispering temptation across her stomach. 

 

“Missed you so much . . . need you . . . have to have you . ..” She felt a hot wetness slide over her skin and looked down to see that he was crying, too, his gorgeous face ravaged by the same surfeit of emotion flooding her. 

 

With shaking fingers, she touched his cheek, trying to smooth away the wetness that only returned the instant it was wiped away. He nuzzled into her touch with a soft, plaintive moan, and she couldn’t bear it. His pain was harder for her to deal with than her own.

“I love you,” she told him. 

“Marlena.” He slid back onto his knees and rose, his thighs spread between hers

“You’re mine,” He said harshly, she pressed her torso tightly into his.“You’re mine.” 

“Oh, baby.”

He took her mouth in a rough, lust-fueled kiss. Lifting her, he moved, turning them so that his back was to the headboard and she was spread over him. Their flesh slid against each other, slickened by sweat. His hands were everywhere, his muscled body straining upward as hers had done. She cupped his face, licking fast into his mouth, trying to satisfy her thirst for him. He reached between her legs, his fingers delving reverently into her opening. The roughened pads stroked over her clit and skirted the trembling opening. 

 

With her lips pressed to his, Marlena moaned, her hips circling. He fingered her leisurely, building her need, his kiss gentling into a slow, deep fucking of her mouth. She couldn’t breathe for the pleasure, her entire body quivering as he cupped her in his hand and his long middle finger slid lazily into her. His palm rubbed against her clit, his fingertip stroking over delicate tissues. His other hand gripped her hip, holding her in place, restraining her. 

 

John’s control seemed absolute, his seduction wickedly precise, but he was trembling harder than she was and his chest was heaving more forcefully. The sounds spilling from him were tinged with remorse and entreaty. Pulling back, she reached for his cock with both hands, gripping him firmly. She remembered his body well, too, knew what he needed and desired. She pumped him from root to tip. He pushed back against the headboard with a groan, his finger curving inside her. 

She watched, riveted, she was wildly aroused by his pleasure and the knowledge that she had such a profound effect on such a blatantly sexual creature. As he cursed, his fingers left her. He grabbed her hips, dislodging her grip on him. He yanked her forward, then down, his hips bucking upward, his raging cock driving into her. She cried out and gripped his shoulders, her pussy clenching against the thick penetration. 

 

“Marlena.” His jaw and neck taut with strain, he started coming, spurting hot and hard inside her. Her nails dug into his unyielding muscles, her mouth opened to draw in desperate breaths of air. 

“Breath,” he bit out, angling her descent to gain that last little part of her that let him to sink into the root. 

“Take me.” She moaned, welcoming the familiar soreness of having him so deep. The orgasm took her by surprise, her back bowing as the heated pleasure tore through her. Instinct took over, her hips moving of their own volition, her thighs clenching and releasing as she focused only on the moment, the reclaiming of her man. 

Her heart. 

John yielded to her demands. “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged hoarsely, his erection still as hard as if he hadn’t just had a teeth-grinding climax. His arms fell to his sides. His hands fisted in the comforter. His biceps clenched and flexed with his movements. His abs tightened every time she took him to the hilt, the rigid lacing of muscles glistening with sweat. His body was a well-oiled machine and she was taking it to its limits.

 

He let her. 

Gave himself to her. Undulating her hips, she took her pleasure, moaning his name. Her core clenched rhythmically, another orgasm rushing up too quickly. She faltered, her senses overwhelmed. 

“Please,” she gasped. “John, please.” He caught her by the nape and waist and slid down until they were flat on the bed. Pinning her tightly, he held her immobile, thrusting upward . . . over and over . . . shafting her center with fast, powerful lunges. The friction of his thick cock rubbing and surging was too much. She jolted violently and came again, her fingers clawing into his sides. Shuddering, he followed her over, his arms tightening until she could barely breathe. His harsh exhalations were the air that filled her burning lungs. She was utterly possessed, completely defenseless. 

“God, Doc.” He buried his face in her throat. “Need you. I need you so much.” 

“Baby.” She held him close. 

Still afraid to let go.

 

***

​
 

She needed to send him away, if they were going to do this, it had to be done right.

He couldn’t disappear in the middle of the night.

Heavy footfalls echoed through her hallway. “John, I thought you were leaving...” She tucked her phone against her chest and turned. 

“Hello, Doctor Evans.” His voice was closer, and as the panic reached her heart. 

“Mark.” She broke into a run. His growl wrapped around her the same moment his arms seized her waist. He lifted her feet from the floor. 

 

“Do you miss me, pretty little doll? Do you miss the way I fucked your tight cunt while you screamed and begged for someone to save you? Do you remember the way you came? Such a dirty, dirty doll.” 

Bile raised in her throat, but she choked it down. “You’re a monster.” 

“You’re so dramatic. Always were a feisty one. There’s no other who compares to you, ” he held her tight, his voice low. “Always wanting to be the star of the show.” 

“Fuck you!” She snarled as she made a quick move to get away. 

“You already did, dirty doll, you even asked for it at times. And God, did it feel good. I haven’t felt anything like it since.” he said, a sick smile in his voice. “And I want you fucking back!” His roar caused her to shriek. A terrified sob stuck in her throat, but she swallowed it down. “Get the fuck out of my house,” she hiss, desperately trying to keep the wobble out of my voice. She kicked and wriggled. “Let me go!” 

“You’re so fucking disobedient,” he hissed in her ear. 

She struggled against him, but that only helped strengthen his grip. Her scream was cut short as he tightened his arms. He shoved her body against the wall, her face smashed against it. 

“I obey no one,” She said, her breathing painful due to his vise-like hold. “No one.” 

His deep chuckle crawled over her skin. “I’m going to enjoy teaching you differently.” 

“John is going to—” 

“What?” He hauled her away from the wall and plucked the robe from her hand. “I hardly think John is going to be able to do much, considering how distressed he’ll be once he discovers you’re gone.” 

 

Her arms wrapped around her stomach, she slowed her breathing, trying to control the adrenaline coursing through her body. “I was all for letting you be, Marlena.” His eyes skimmed the robe and then pinned her with a narrowed glare. “I mean, hell. You were locked by Stefano DIMera, that nasty old man, I knew I had to come and save you.” 

She couldn’t quell the tremors racking her body. He laughed again, shaking his head. “But damn if you’re not the smart little whore. You told him off.” 

He moved closer, his eyes were wild and it seemed he was going in and out of reality. “You’re very proud, Marlena. Now give me your damn phone.” 

Within seconds, his hand was clamped around her throat. Her hands latched on to his as she gasped past the constriction. He held her there a moment longer, his teeth bared in a mocking grin, before he released her and scooped her phone from the floor. 

“Let me go! John will be home any minute and-”

He tsk his tongue, “No one’s coming for you little doll…”

She filled her lungs as she held her neck, coughing around her restricted airway. “So fucking defiant,” he said, looking through her phone. “You’re so special, Doc. I can see why John just can’t seem to help himself.” His gaze pinned her. “I’m going to have a fucking fun time remembering too.” 

 

With more courage than she felt, she said, “There’s DNA.” She lifted her chin. “The prosecution has your DNA.” 

All humor vanished from his expression. “That was true, before I tampered with the evidence. What will they compare it to? I’m not in the system.” He cocked his head.

“Why do I matter? Why won’t you leave me alone?” She asked, her voice less unsteady. “I was someone you trusted. I wanted to help you.” 

“Marlena, Marlena,” he said, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back, forcing her to stare into his stone-gray eyes. “You have John. Wrapped around your fucking little finger. That’s why you matter. That’s why you have to disappear. Because he will listen to you, and I can’t have him on my tail.” 

 

He dragged her forward, and her feet followed despite the urge to struggle. This couldn't be happening again—how is this happening? Her thoughts cycled like a vortex, funneling every detail that has led to this point in time. Every word, every step, every action intricately woven along the walls of her downward spiral—the distorted pattern formed to display her demise at the hands of a rapist. 

 

As he shoved her over her kitchen table, she didn't scream. As he tore her clothes from her body, she didn't cry. As he struck her across her face, she didn't blackout. She held onto the light at the top of the axis. Her actions may have been fated for her, but they were also fated for those she cared for. 

John had loved her. He’ll love again. 

There was only one thing left to fight for. 

Herself. 

​

***

​
 

He was not equipped to be a wreck. Rumpled dress shirt. Hair disheveled from the continuous running of his hand through it. Sitting in a dark room, brooding. The damn ache in his chest was torture. And the worst part: the loss of control.

 

You can’t control someone else’s pain. 

​

He swore to guard Marlena. 

He promised he’d protect her. Instead, he caused her additional pain by walking away 3 years ago. When your pride gives up the battle and you admit to that failure, their pain becomes your own. The simple fact of the matter was that he was not built to be this wreck of a man. It didn’t suit him—but that’s exactly what he was right now. 

Wrecked. 

He was a fucking cliché.

 

And a wrecked man could only stare at his phone so long, his thoughts battering his brain before he has to take action. He was not above accepting his defeat—but he was damn sure going to do everything to fix her pain. He’d rather not put into a text what should be expressed in person, but he couldn’t let another second pass. 

He won’t accept that. 

She’d asked for time. 

He’ll give her as much time as she needs, but she’ll take that time along with his reasons. 

He hit Send. 

Then he was off his couch and heading to his and Kristen's bedroom. He won’t hover around his phone like some whipped teenager. The thought of her suffering stole his breath. The thoughts pummeled his brain in the dark of his room, keeping him from sleep. He should be focused on tomorrow’s talk with Kristen, but all he could visualize was the pain on Marlena’s face tonight. 

“Fuck.”

He rolled out of bed and pulled on his jeans, making sure not to wake Kristen, then headed toward his phone. 

No reply. 

He called the bodyguard he assigned to her doorstep. “When did Marlena go to sleep?” He asked as a way of greeting. There’s no sense in platitudes. He hired him because he knew this. 

His groggy voice sounded over the line. “Sir, I don’t know.” 

His brow furrowed. “Then she’s still awake?” 

“Sir, I don't know I—” 

“Then you’re still there. With her.”

A beat. Then: “My replacement showed up..” 

“What replacement?”

“Sir-”

“You left her there alone?”

“I’m on my way back there now—” 

“No,” He said, his voice a dark boom. “I’m going.” He hung up and tried her number. It rang for a while before going to voicemail. 

 

Dammit, Doc. 

 

He tried calling again, and again, her voicemail picked up. He typed out a quick text: I’m on my way to you. 

He didn’t bother with a jacket and was already grabbing his keys when his phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket. 

Marlena’s beautiful face was on the screen. 

“Doc, are you all right?”

 

There were many different ways to answer this call…other things he wished to say…but this was his main concern. He needed to know she was all right. That she was not sitting up in her bedroom, hurt and alone. 

The receiver picked up her shaky breaths. “I’m all right,” she said. “John, I don’t think I can go back to work.” He braced his hand on the door, holding his phone against his ear as he hung his head. 

“I don’t accept that, Marlena.” 

“Us- this. This is not going to work.”

“Doc”

She remained quiet, and he waited. Waited for her to realize what she was saying was wrong. It didn’t feel right because it was not right. “You are about to marry Kristen, she’s having your baby, you left me for her, John. There’s nothing between us anymore.” 

His hand balled into a fist against the door. He gritted his teeth to keep from rearing back and punching it. “I was wrong.” He exhaled, releasing the searing ache from his lungs. “I'm leaving her first thing tomorrow morning, Marlena. I want you. All of you—” 

“John—” 

“I’m coming to you. If you’re done with me, then tell me so. But do it to my face.” 

“I’m already gone,” she said, essentially slicing his chest open. 

“Where are you?” 

When she didn’t answer, he practically growled into the phone, “Where the fuck are you?” 

“Thank you for what you did for me tonight,” she said, and it infuriated him more.

“Marlena, I demand to know—” He pounded his fist against the door “—please, Marlena. Tell me where you are. We’ll figure this out, but—” 

“John…I can’t. I know that you’ll be okay.” The phone was muffled and he heard a sob break through the line. 

His gut clenched. “Marlena?” 

“I’m starting over, Johnny. I have to get away from here and just start over.” Three quick beeps ended the call. 

“Fuck!” His fist made contact with the door, leaving a dent. He was only rational enough to keep from smashing his phone. He opened the door and slammed it behind him, clicking his key fob to unlock his car. 

Another man might accept this rejection. But he was too stubborn for that. If Marlena is this distraught over their past…then she needed him. She was strong—stronger than she even realized—but it’s usually the strong who broke the hardest. 

She was breaking. 

 

There’s a sick twisting in his stomach that gripped him whole, his instincts shouting to go to her. He’ll be damned if he lost her tonight. He’ll be damned if he didn’t do everything within his power to stop that from happening. He pulled up the GPS on her phone. Another thing she might despise him for…but she could scold him all she wanted later. He’ll gladly take the beating as soon as he has her in his arms.

 

***

 

“That was pathetic.” He gripped her chin, forcefully raising his gaze to his face. “You were supposed to make him believe, Marlena. To save his life.” He tsked. “You barely made me believe you want him to live, and I don’t want to have to end him. I rather like John. He’s a damn fine man.” 

She sucked in an unsteady breath and jerked free of his hold. “He’ll believe it when…” She trailed off, unable to voice what was to happen next, even if she’d accepted her fate. “When I disappear,” She gritted out between clenched teeth. 

He dropped her phone and stomped it. The crack echoed around the office, severing her link to John. 

“A precaution,” he said. Her wrists burnt from the leather belt, her failed attempts to twist free having torn her flesh. Her bare skin was blanketed in sheets of ice-cold sweat. Her bra and underwear a flimsy barrier to the chilly air. Yet still, she maintained her fight. He tucked the gun into his waistband behind his back, his eyes narrowed on her. Then, his hand landed another slap to her face. Her vision exploded in white. The blinding pain dulled into a throb as she choked back a cry. “John is smarter than you,” She said, willing her voice steady. She looked up, blinking her vision clear. “You’re sick. You can’t stop. You’ve already made one mistake by leaving your DNA behind. You’ll make another.” 

He raised his fist and she recoiled, bracing for the impact. It didn’t come. Instead, he yanks the necklace from her neck and pocketed it. Her skin burnt, the lingering sting of the chain still there. He grabbed the knotted belt behind her back. 

“Get up,” he ordered. She struggled to her feet as he hauled her off the floor. “Where are you taking me?” 

“To my cage, baby,” he said, yanking her forward, and she cringed at the word. 

She loathed it. 

The memories it evoked. “You’re just too damn smart. I can’t have you running away.” 

She lifted her chin despite her fear. She tried to fight him off once, she’ll continue to fight. 

He could kill her…but she won’t let him violate her. She’ll do whatever was necessary to make it end quickly before he had the chance. He shoved her against the wall. She leaned there, watching him tidy her kitchen table, making her disappear. 

“You can’t keep using people as patsies—” 

“Pawns,” he said, tossing her torn clothing into her purse. “What?” 

His eyes meet hers. “They’re pawns. I had a therapist in jail. Ugly old bat. She was nothing compared to you.” He spread his arms wide. “I thought of you when she spoke, and every night before I fell asleep.” 

She shook her head, moving farther down the wall. “You’re demented.”

He cocked his head in a clipped shrug. “All great men are. It’s the price one pays for genius.” He stalked toward her then, bracing his arms on either side of her head and locking her in place. “I think you’ll realize that once you acknowledge you’re just a pawn, too.” 

She swallowed hard, calming her breathing.

 

His smile was too revealing, he wanted her to ask. So she didn’t. 

“John Black,” he said, eyeing her closely. “Oh, wait. That’s right. What did John tell Kristen? Your husband left you because of John and instead of taking his place, his guild drove him right into Kristen’s arms. A man that somehow charmed his way into your panties…You lied to your husband about sleeping with him. Hell, you even lied about sleeping with me!.” He grinned. “What a whore you are, Marlena.” For the first time, her defense dropped. 

Fear pervaded her senses, ripping through her with a fury that decimated her nerves. He held her upright as her legs gave out.

“How do you—” 

The words tumble out, a painful release that she despised him for witnessing. He pressed against her, and her stomach roiled at the feel of his erection digging into her belly. “I know, baby. He sure did, you have no one. But me.” 

 

She shook her head, attempting to get as far away from him as possible, but his body sealed against hers. “John used you, just until something better comes along,” he whispered in her ear. 

“I don’t care,” She said. “You’re trying to hurt me, but you can’t. Stop your lame monologue and get this over with. I’m sick of looking at you.” She spitted in his face. She was provoking him. It was what she had to do. 

He only smiled, then licked a trail across her lips. She sputtered back her revulsion. He pushed his erection harder against her, and she wished she could tear it from his body. “You want to know the real irony that’s about to take place?” he asked. “John is not here to save you. Again.” Her eyes widened. “Of course John wants to punish the man who hurt you. The man who came back to hurt you all over again. But he won't make it in time.” As he pulled back, his gray eyes assessing her reaction, he said, “you’re all alone now, Doc.” 

She was thrust through the kitchen wall on wobbly legs. He walked behind her, directing her down the hallway. Her whole body felt ready to shut down. The adrenaline that kept her sharp, primed to fight, has depleted her muscles, leaving her drained and hollow. There was a calming relief washing over her, though—as twisted as it was. 

 

He turned her around and drove her back against the wall, knocking the breath from her lungs. He smiled at her pain as he closed in. “I’m not a bad man,” he said, drawing the gun from behind his back. “I just have particular tastes and needs.” He ran the barrel between her thighs, the cold metal biting into her skin. “I’m going to do things to you, John only fantasizes about. Things you never knew you craved.” 

She was shaking. 

She couldn’t help it. 

But she didn’t lower her gaze. She held steady, looking right into his eyes. “I’m not yours to claim, I don't belong to anybody.” The backs of his fingers grazed her cheek. “I can’t help myself – you’re forbidden fruit.” The gun made contact with her through her underwear, and her breath was lost. 

His smile stretched. “Taking John’s plaything for myself again, is just too irresistible.” She closed her eyes as he reached around her…and then he opened the front door, setting her breath free.

“Let’s go.” 

 

She loved John. She believed he loved her. That was all she needed to trust in. She’d never belonged to anyone the way she belonged to him. She was known by John in a way she’d never felt before. 

In the seconds it took the door to open, the brief moment where time suspended, where her eyes connected with John’s and her kidnapper extended the gun, fate no longer controlled her life. She controlled fate.

 

She was only granted a second, but time—for once—obeyed her, and she lunged to the right. Her eardrums exploded. The blast ricocheted around the small enclosure of the elevator, a dizzying effect that rocked her equilibrium. All noise faded away, just the thud of her heartbeat filling her ears.

Her name broke through the muted current of sounds before the floor hit her. When the world righted itself, her sight scrambled to latch on to an object—any object—and her gaze caught John. 

 

He was a blur of movements at first, then he came into focus along with a pitch of sound that brought everything around her racing back as time speeded up. John had Mark’s arm pinned against the wall, the gun held within Mark’s grip. With his free hand, John pummeled Mark’s face. Red mists the air as John connected his fist with Mark’s face over and over. As she tried to sit forward, a sharp pain seared her shoulder. 

 

She cried out, struggling against the restraint of the belt. 

“John!” His attention was momentarily directed toward her, his clenched hand held aloft mid-swing. “John! Don’t kill him,” She managed to get out.

“Don’t—” 

John banged Mark's arm against the wall, loosening Mark’s grip on the gun and it fell to the floor. He held him by the collar and slammed him into the wall. “I should kill you,” he grated through clenched teeth. “But you’re already a dead man.” He delivered a final blow to Mark’s face before he leaned over to pick up the gun. He kneeled beside her and unbound the belt. 

“Don’t move,” he said, the tremble in his voice evident. 

“I’m not hurt,” She said, the pain in her shoulder going numb. “I need to get up.” 

“Marlena—” his solemn gaze found hers “—you’re shot. Stay still. I got you.” He dug out his phone with one last glance toward a bloody guy, then brought his phone to his ear. “Jeff, listen, there’s a situation at Marlena’s house—” 

A beat. 

“I need officers here to arrest an ex-convict, Mark Edwards. And I need an ambulance.” He didn’t stay on the line; he ended the call and cradled her in his arms, careful of her shoulder. “I should’ve killed him, Doc,” he said. “Why did you do that?” 

Her eyes flicked up to his face. “Because I could.” 

Despite the seriousness of their situation, he eased a tight smile out. “You’re beautiful when you’re sassy.” He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. Then as he glanced around, he cursed. “We’re not waiting. I’m taking you to the hospital myself.” 

“No—wait.” She grasped his arm, pulling herself up against his chest. “We can’t leave him here—” The doors of the elevator opened, and then heavy footsteps filled the area as three men dressed in black approached the scene. 

“Mister Black,” one of them said with a curt nod. “Thank you for calling.” He eyed Mark, then returned his sharp gaze to John. “It will be taken care of.” 

“Who are you?” John demanded. The man—nearly as tall as John, broad shoulders squared, with no hint of fear in his dark eyes—smiled. “It will be taken care of, sir.” John’s arms wrapped around her, securing her to his chest as the man took a close look at her shoulder. “It’s a flesh wound, but you’ll want to get it treated.” 

 

John exhaled the tension from his chest. Evidently, as relieved as she was. A flesh wound—she’ll live. She looked up at John. “I’m fine. I don’t need—” 

“You do,” he cut her off. “Let me take care of you.” 

She gave up the battle easily, acknowledging that all she wanted was for John to do just that. “We have a medic here,” the man said, nodding to a woman entering the front yard. “It’s best if this doesn’t get reported.” 

Her mouth parted, but all questions fled her mind as the other two men yanked Mark up and hauled him out of the foyer. Mark was coherent enough to realize he wasn't being apprehended by the police. He glanced at John. “You son of a—” But his words were cut short by a punch to his stomach. 

As terrified as she was upstairs with Mark, as horrified as she was the moment she saw Mark raise the gun toward John…she was now petrified. 

 

“Is this Doctor Evans?” the man asked John. 

He pulled her tighter to him. “Yes,” he said, letting Mark see the gun he set on his knee. The man held up a hand defensively. “I assure you, there’s no need for that, sir.” He gave her a smile that was neither forced nor genuine. “Doctor Evans, can you please explain what transpired between you and Mark Edwards?” 

 

Unsure, she sought John’s eyes. He nodded, his gaze steady on the man in the black suit. “It’s all right. These men are FBI,” John said. The man nodded, appreciation brightening his sharp features. 

 

With John still holding her, she relayed the facts the best she could. “Mark had planned to take me away with him, to be his..cage-” She tired, wishing she could spare John the final element of Mark’s unhinged plan. She could feel the anger thrumming through him, his muscles corded tight. She winced at the pain it caused her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” She replied, realizing he was apologizing for a multitude of things—things he couldn’t have controlled. 

“Thank you, ma’am.” Then to John, “Sir, I expect you’ll take good care of her.” A slight smile tilted his thin lips.

 

Exhaustion finally claimed her, and she laid her head against him, letting him carry her into the living room. “How did you know something was going on?” She asked, letting his scent comfort her, now that they were alone. He released a heavy breath. “You called me Johnny. No one has called me that since my mother.” Placing her on a sofa, he removed his jacket and wrapped it carefully around her shoulders as he kneeled before her. 

“You saved my life out there,” he said, cupping her face. “So now it’s yours. All yours. I belong to you, Marlena.” 

She kissed him, deeply and tenderly. “We belong to each other.” The chilly air from the open window greeted them. She let John hold her, and her thoughts struggled to make sense of everything that had happened. “He will pay for what he’s done to you,” He said, his arms tensed around her. “But first I want to tend to every bruise and cut—” he stopped short, his gaze sweeping her face, and she realized what he suspected. “John, he didn’t hurt me. Not like that. I promise.” His eyes closed, his jaw tight as he took measured breaths. “Fuck, you should’ve let me kill him.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, pure fatigue taking hold. “I should’ve listened – I never should’ve—” His lips sealed over hers, taking the rest of her desperate admission within himself. Then she felt his hand slipping a chain around her wrist. She pulled back and touched the pendants as he clasped the backing together. 

“I found it in the car.” 

 

Her relief at feeling complete again, wholly belonging to John, swept through her. She pressed her palm to his cheek, letting her eyes plead her case. Conveying it will never leave her neck again. Wiping the wet streaks from her face. “Now, I’m not always going to do the right thing, but I can promise I’ll always try.”

“Just kiss me.” 

“A command I will always willingly obey, Doc.”