Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(63)

"I’m sorry."

"It means that I get to keep you. That is not a sacrifice." His words hit me in that deep spot that only Slate knows exists.

"I love you," I repeat when any adequate words fail me.

"I will do absolutely anything to keep you, but I’m not doing that again. We’ll find another way, but that was the one and only time I look up into eyes that aren’t yours."

I quickly agree because I don’t know if I can handle it again either. I know it was a stupid ploy, but it doesn’t change that fact that it still hurt like hell.

"Take your contacts out. I can’t stand them tonight."

Not willing to wait a single moment longer, I reach up and peel them both from my eyes, tossing them to the floor.

"There she is." He stares with such awe that it causes my chest to ache. He watches me for a few seconds until a mischievous smile plays on his lips.

"When you kissed her, I couldn’t watch," I admit, burying my head into his neck.

"That’s good, beautiful. If you could have watched, I really would have questioned this."

I immediately lift my head and find his lopsided grin. Yeah, the world is right again.

"You stink. Like perfume and cigarettes," I snip just to wipe the smile from his face, but it only makes it grow.

"God, her perfume was terrible. I stood outside in the smoking section just so I didn’t have to smell her," he jokes before shoving a hand down the back of my pants to grab my ass. "Take a shower with me."

"Mmm…I can do that."

He walks toward the bedroom, never bothering to put me down. "So, do you think it worked?" he asks just as we get to the bathroom.

I unbutton his pants, and he pulls my shirt over my head, immediately leaning forward to suck a nipple into his mouth. I groan, swaying back, but his strong arm holds me tight against his mouth.

"You’ve been all over ESPN for the last four hours. I think you got more coverage than the actual fight," I say, slowly stroking his growing cock.

He flips on the shower before gliding his hand between my legs. Pulling me with him, he steps under the water.

"Now what?" I ask.

"Now we stay out of sight and wait, but we get to do that together." He continues tight circles against my clit, sending me close to the edge. Just before I come, he spins me around to face the wall and thrusts hard inside me. "Together," he repeats, quickly sliding out before slamming into me. It’s by far the wildest Slate has ever been with me, but it doesn’t scare me. It actually lights me on fire.

For two hours, Slate and I stay in the shower. He never stops touching me, even when we get to the bathing part. His hands roam over every curve of my body. They aren’t always gentle, but they are never rough. By the time we head for bed, the sun is already blazing through the windows. I’m exhausted and probably could have fallen asleep hours ago, but as much as I needed to hear Slate’s words of reassurance, I think he needed to feel my commitment to reassure himself.





Two weeks later….





"Can we talk for a minute?" Leo asks, walking into my bedroom. His eyes flash around the room, presumably looking for Erica.

"She’s taking a bath," I say, answering his unspoken question. "What’s up?"

He glances behind me at the bathroom door as he breathes a sigh of relief. He signals me to follow him into the hall. "I have to go somewhere for a few days. I’m not sure when I’ll be back." He looks down and swallows hard.

"What’s going on? Did something happen?" I take a step forward, but his eyes stay stuck to the ground.

"Look, I can’t do this anymore. I just need to get away for a while. She’s safe with you. I’ve got a few things to do, and now seems like a good time," he replies, finally lifting his eyes to mine, and I immediately know that he’s hiding something.

"You are so full of shit. Now tell me what the f*ck is really going on?" I demand.

"Just tell her I went to run an errand, maybe close down the old apartment or something."

"I’m not lying to her. If that’s the bullshit you want to tell, then do it your damn self," I bite out, closing the bedroom door just to be sure she can’t hear the conversation.

"I can’t live like this anymore," he says in a sad tone that is more alarming than the actual words.

"What the f*ck is going on with you? You’re not making any sense here. Are you going on vacation to clear your head or are you leaving for good?"

"I don’t know yet," he snaps as his frustration wins over the turmoil. "Here. I wanted you to have this. It’s the file I’ve been making since I was undercover. It documents everything from the first night I met Erica to the present. If anything happens while I’m gone, you turn that over to the police. I left the phone number of my contact at the program. If anything happens, you call them first, get her sorted, then you disappear. She won’t leave you, but you have to swear to me that, if you can’t get in touch with me, you will leave her in their custody."

"What the f*ck are you talking about? God damn it. You are not leaving her like this. Not until you start making sense and tell me what the hell is going on," I bark, but he ignores me and continues to talk about Erica.