Defiance (The Protectors #9)(63)

“You’re not the only one I don’t want reading too much into what all this means,” he finally admitted. His words were enough to help me focus on what he was saying instead of what his body was doing to mine.

His lips finally brushed over mine and he settled more of his weight down on me. “I knew the second the words left my lips this morning that I wouldn’t be able to do it, Nate.”

“Do what?” I whispered.

“Let you go.”

Heat lanced through my body and my chest felt insanely tight.

“Vincent-”

He kissed me to shut me up again and then he was pressing his forehead against mine. “I can’t want this, Nathan. Do you understand me? Not don’t…can’t.”

I nodded and squeezed my eyes closed because I did understand. “You won’t lose me, Vincent. I promise,” I whispered desperately.

He kissed me again. “Baby, you know it isn’t about making me that promise.”

I wanted to cry because I knew he was right. And I wanted to curse whoever was hunting him that had taken his ability to choose me away. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t fair, but he’d had his share of not fair. His career stolen, his lover lost to him forever, his brother brutally murdered…I didn’t hold that same station in his life, but maybe I could have.

“Nate, open your eyes.”

I did as he said, and furiously blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. But I knew he could tell what I was doing because he shook his head slightly and let out a soft sigh. Fortunately, he didn’t comment on it. Instead he said, “We’ll go to the rally on Saturday and try to draw the fucker out. But when you’re safe, Nathan…when this is all over, I need you to promise me you’ll walk away. I need you to do that for me.”

I wanted to rant at him that it wasn’t fair for him to ask that of me. But the fact that he’d had to make the request in the first place told me where he was at. And as good as it felt to know he was in this thing as deeply as me, I still cursed the unseen circumstances that were bent on keeping us from figuring this thing out between us.

“Promise,” I said hoarsely.

His lips found mine and he kissed me reverently. He spent an endless amount of time worshiping my body with his mouth and hands as he plucked my clothes from me piece by piece. I was boneless when he stood up and pulled his own clothes off. By the time he slid into me, I was desperate to come, but Vincent tortured me with slow, deep thrusts meant to keep me on the edge. Only when I was begging him to send me over the edge did he shift his hips so he could hit my gland on every stroke. As the orgasm crashed over me, he ordered me to keep my eyes on him and I was helpless to do anything else. But instead of following me over, he began his sensuous torture all over again, and when I came for the second time, he was right there with me.

I couldn’t say how long we lay there trying to catch our breath, but when we were finally forced to move, it was only long enough to take a quick shower where we washed each other, and then he was leading me back to his bed.

As I curled into his side, my eyes fell on the bookshelf opposite the bed.

“Will you tell me about him?” I asked as I ran my hand up and down Vincent’s chest.

Vincent didn’t need to ask who I was talking about. “What do you want to know?” he asked after a few moments.

“The books – they were his?”

I motioned towards the bookshelf with my chin.

“Yes. He started collecting them when we were kids. He had a learning disability that made it hard for him to read, so his teachers suggested his parents find books that really captured his interest. As hard as it was for him, he was always reading. When I would spend the night at his house, we’d lie in his bed and I’d spend hours reading to him.”

Vincent fell silent for a moment before saying, “When we got kicked out of the army, he started selling some of his older books that were worth money because they were first editions. It broke his heart, but we were desperate for the money. So when I started working again, I began buying them back for him. The look in his eyes every time I brought him another one…”

I pressed a kiss against Vincent’s shoulder when his voice cracked. “It’s okay, you don’t have to go on,” I murmured.

He shook his head. “No, he…he deserves to be remembered more often.” Vincent’s fingers trailed up and down my back as he continued. “Even after he died, I kept buying the books for him. I only have a few more to find. Not sure what I’ll do then.”

The heartbreak in his voice tore at me. I sat up and leaned across him to turn on the light next to the bed. I let my fingers skim over his cheek. “Which one was his favorite?” I asked.

“The Outsiders.”

I glanced at the bookshelf. “Can I read it to you?”

Vincent sucked in a breath and then nodded. I didn’t care that I was naked as I climbed out of the bed and went to the bookshelf.

“Right side, third shelf. All the way to the right,” Vincent said.

I found the book and returned to the bed. I leaned back against the headboard. Vincent sat up and did the same as I flipped the book open. I was about to start when he put his hand on my wrist. I watched as he reached over into the second drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a small picture frame.