Sarah Mine Read Online Free

words at him.
    “How about the part,” he shouted right back, “where you called yourself a fucking whore? What the god damn hell is that?” He pointed his finger in my face. “What the fuck, Sarah, is that?”
    “Go. Go.”
    “No way, baby doll. You dropped the “w” word. Where the hell did that come from, Sarah Jane?”
    “Everyone, William Hilton. Everyone. Including you.” I tried to walk away but he drew me back.
    “I’ll deal with everyone in a minute. They’re not in this damn room. You are not a whore. Not mine. Not anyone’s. Don’t,” he said with a little poke of his finger toward me without coming close, “say it again. And I have not, now or ever, called you a whore. I’ve called you a lot of things but never, ever that. What did I say? When we were lying there, what did I say? Tell me. Repeat it.”
    “That I feel like me. Because I instantly fall on my back for you. Want a fast fuck? Hey, let’s go see Sarah.” My voice was a mocking bass timbre, imitating his.
    Hill’s eyes were like a hard storm coming off the bay and slapping the town around. “Shut. Up. Yes, I said it feels likes you. Bank it.” He pressed his finger against my mouth, shutting me up. “Come with me.” Since he still held my wrist, I had no choice but to follow him into the bathroom.
    My sumptuous bathroom. This bathroom hadn’t come with the house. When I had bought the place, it had been a simple bathroom. A tub and shower combination, a toilet and a sink. When I finally moved in, the bathroom had become this thing of extravagant splendor. There was a claw foot tub, a separate shower. The walls had been painted a soft yellow that reminded me of spring sunshine, with glass subway tiles the color of summer grass in the shower. Above the tub was a skylight so I could lie back in scented bubbles and stare up at the blue sky.
    The renovations hadn’t been my idea. The bathroom had been simple and dated when I had seen the photos of the house while in rehab. No, all of this had been a surprise.
    Deverauxs were sneaky.
    Hill positioned me to face the mirror. “This,” he said with a growl in his voice, “is the first thing I saw yesterday.” Frowning, I looked at us, trying to figure out his point. He stepped behind me and bent down so our heads were even, and then he pointed at the mirror. “Look at her, Sarah.”
    My gaze shifted to my reflection.
    “Look at her. She’s been sitting in the sun, and I think she has a few freckles that I know she didn’t have before because she was always pale. Tired. Flattened down. Bruised around the eyes, empty in the eyes.” He ran his finger down my cheek and he looked at me, not the mirror. “Who is this girl who isn’t hiding in a bottle? Who is this girl with color in her face and who isn’t wearing her cheekbones on the outside of her skin? Who is this girl with spirit in her eyes when before they were filled with hopelessness? I don’t know this woman. Never seen her before in my life.”
    I turned to look at him, his grey gaze drinking in every one of my features. “So what? Because we have sex that makes me someone you know?”
    “No. It makes me someone I know.” He ran his thumb along my mouth. “You aren’t the only lost soul in this house.”
    His words tugged at my heart. Maybe I wasn’t the only broken one here. It was a startling thought. All he had said to describe me – that was on his face now. His eyes hid shadows of hopelessness. He was the one who looked tired and beaten down. What had happened to him? Despite all my chaotic emotions about him being back, I didn’t want him to be like this. A shadowy reflection of the golden boy he once was.
    I rose up on my toes and kissed him, trying to get rid of what was imprinted on his face. “You promised me pancakes, pretty boy.”
    “So I did.” He tugged on my top. “But since you’re already half naked, how about you get all naked and we have a late breakfast?”
    “I’m not easy, you