My Skin Needs Touch, Their Stomachs Turn novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Nobody could resist Felix when he turned that charm on – and my body was already wired differently from everyone else’s.

I didn’t pull away when he kissed me again.

That lasted until the comments exploded across my vision.

[AHHH, Felix called her Master!!!]

[Are you kidding me? What did the villainess ever do to deserve this?]

[Honestly, Felix runs his mouth, but he’s never once bailed on his responsibilities to her. Not once.]

[Stop shipping them. It’s purely physical – his real feelings are for Chloe. The original novel makes that

crystal clear.]

I watched the words scroll by, and the heat in my chest froze over again.

I bit down on his lower lip – hard.

Felix ripped away with a hiss, and the want in his eyes died instantly.

His jaw tightened. His throat worked. He was one second from tearing into me when I spoke first.

“Felix. I came here today to end the contract — yours and Arthur’s.”

–

He went completely still. Then rage took over his face, fast as a fuse catching.

“I just explained this to you. Chloe’s our mentor’s daughter. What the hell is wrong with you? Is this another

tantrum?”

The word tantrum landed on a bruise that had never healed.

For three years – every year after the first two that had been Fèlix’s favorite accusation.

Every time my skin flared at two in the morning and I had to call him home, I was throwing a tantrum.

Every time he came back from a mission bleeding and I couldn’t stop crying, I was making a scene over

nothing.

Every time another woman got too close to Arthur or Felix and I tried to draw a line, I was starting drama

where there wasn’t any.

Three years of swallowed hurt came down on me at once, and I felt the last thread inside me snap. I cleared

my throat.

“I’m not throwing a tantrum. I’ve made my decision. I came here to give you the papers.

Felix’s face darkened. He opened his mouth to argue – but the office door swung open before he could get a

word out.

Chapter 3

37.50%

Arthur stood in the doorway with a stack of files in hand, probably fresh out of Chloe’s briefing. His eyes

swept from Felix to me, taking in my half-buttoned shirt and the wrecked cot.

His brow creased.

“Lock the door when you’re doing that.”

“Call me when you’re done dealing with this. We still need to lock down the timeline for Chloe’s op.”

He was already turning to leave when Felix stopped him.

“Arthur.” He paused. “You haven’t heard. Hazel’s done with us.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Arthur go still. His tiger ears flicked once – a tiny, involuntary tell.

Ten minutes later, I was fully dressed and sitting across from both of them like a suspect in an interrogation

room.

Arthur spoke first. “Why?”

I couldn’t tell them about the comments, so I grabbed the only excuse I had. “I’m bored with you.”

The silence lasted half a second. Arthur gave a cold, humorless laugh.

Felix looked like I’d slapped him.

“Bored with us? Hazel, do you have any idea how many women in this country would kill to be in your place? We’re the ones putting up with this, and you’re bored?”

“Good for them.” I kept my voice flat. “They’re not me. This was a transaction from day one – is it really

that wild that I want out?”

The word transaction hit Felix like a second slap. He opened his mouth again, but Arthur lifted a hand and

cut him off.

Arthur’s expression hadn’t moved – the same stone face he wore into every briefing and every battlefield. If

losing me bothered him at all, he didn’t let it show.

“Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify