Free Waiting For Us (Beautiful Surrender, Part Three) (A Billionaire Romance) by Ava Claire

CHAPTER ONE
    T he music is in my blood. It pours from the stage, an orchestra whispering sweet nothings all around me. The room is dark, the couples around us swaying in beautiful silence. Diamonds glitter at throats. Cuff links twinkle like stars. I'm wrapped in something lush and silk, and when the violinist plays a long, mournful note, I'm wrapped in muscle.
    Him.
    Face cloaked in shadow, his smell everything and nothing at all. I hold my breath as he spins me, and I do a perfect pirouette that should have been impossible. There's a whisper in the back of my mind that this isn't real. The word ‘dream’ races across my skin like goosebumps, but it disappears just as quickly. There's nothing but our dance. Bodies moving slow, feeling every last note, every flutter of the butterfly wings that turn my stomach inside out. I peer into the darkness, seeking out this stranger; this man whose hands know just where to roam. Where to linger. He's playing me as expertly as any musician on the stage. Stroking and pressing, listening to the way my body responds to him. My body was made for his touch.
    And then the music changes.
    A page rips and the sensual notes become sinister. Low and foreboding. The violin that crooned is screeching as my lover's grip tightens. I can't breathe. The things that sparkled are now like lightning.
    I’m cloaked in pitch darkness.
    I'm sinking.
    Fading.
    My mouth is open as I stare into nothing. The silence comes—and is split in half as I shatter into pieces.
    My eyes pop open. The sound from my dream followed me into reality. It’s like cymbals crashing; a metallic crunch that set my teeth on edge.
    I'm tangled up in white sheets, officially awake. My heart froze in my chest, seizing when I realize that I'm alone—which meant that Logan was behind that sound. A sound that was alarmingly similar to glass breaking.
    Okay, I'm up.
    “Logan?” My feet creaked on the hardwood floor as I launched myself from the bed. The source of the sound was the bathroom, a soft amber glow kissing the mostly dimmed master bedroom. It contradicted the loud echo that hung in the silence. I took two more steps, dread rising in my throat. Why wasn't he answering?
    I nervously fumbled through my wild blonde locks, pushing them out of my tired eyes. “Logan, is everything okay?”
    A sharp hiss of pain was my answer and I rushed forward, my feet barely touching the floor—until I skidded to a stop in the doorway of the bathroom.
    There he was, just as muscled and gorgeous as I remembered. Golden skin and perfectly cut abs. Black boxer briefs slung low, hugging a cock I was intimately familiar with.
    And then I saw it.
    Bright red streaked across his thigh. He was cradling his right fist, more of the red stuff on his hands. I looked past him to the sink. Tiny pieces of pink glass made a brutal mosaic, but it wasn’t nearly as brutal as the look on Logan's face. Even when he was in Dom mode, or hurt like when I rushed out, refusing him when he first called me a submissive, it wasn't in the same vein of the darkness that now invaded his handsome features. The snarl was no longer on his lips but I saw the remains of it, snapping and biting. Keeping me at a distance. His jaw was tight and I swallowed hard, worried if that alone would be enough to make him snap. But the worst thing of all was his eyes. Eyes so green—usually filled with playfulness and a deep, poignant need that spoke to me—were so cold that I trembled. Those were the eyes of someone that had dark, terrible plans for some unfortunate soul. Combined with the bloody fist and broken mirror, I was starting to wonder if I should try and make a break for it.
    The thought was quickly silenced, the moment of insanity fading as his eyes softened, bringing back memories of us. Of what I was sure were some of the best days of my life. Stumbling on him using the outdoor shower, in all his glory. The amused smirk as he introduced himself and I nearly stopped