The Fall(61)

It was too much, the desperation building inside me quickly until in a blind rush it exploded, every cell in my body tingling as the waves rushed through me.

A second later he’d found his own release, his body shaking as the tension in his face bled out. His eyes softened as they looked down at me, his skin glistening with a thin veil of sweat.

We didn’t talk, our chests heaving in and out as we tried to rein in our breathing.

I couldn’t look away; he was beautiful in this light. The soft glow of the lamp beside us danced against his slick skin, the scars and marks reduced to shadows, and without his usual scowl, he looked almost kind.

The heaviness had disappeared, the lines from his forehead relaxed. Like at that moment, he wasn’t fighting whatever war he usually was and he was still with me.

Before I could stop myself, I raised my hand to his face, my palm flattened against his cheek. He hadn’t shaven in over a day, the hair prickling my skin as I slowly moved against him, his eyes widening as I continued to study him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His brow creased as he shifted.

“Your face . . . it just looks different.” I swallowed the rest of the sentence, not sure exactly how the words would be received. I assumed telling him I thought he looked beautiful wouldn’t be seen as a compliment.

“Yeah, well. It’s the same face it was last week.” He pushed off me in a hurry and landed flat on his back.

“I know, I just meant . . . you looked happy?” I hadn’t meant it as a question, but once again words were not my friends. I felt like if I said anything too observant he would spook.

“Don’t.” His face hardened as the darkness returned.

“Don’t what?” I asked, turning onto my side to face him.

“Whatever you are thinking right now, just don’t.”

It was like whatever door had opened, slammed shut and took with it everything that felt good.

“I wasn’t thinking anything,” I lied, trying to smile. “But it’s okay to admit you enjoyed the sex. I did too.”

His body visibly tensed, like he wasn’t sure if I was feeding him a line or baiting him for a response. In truth, I wasn’t trying to do either. I craved the closeness, needed the connection even though I knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere. I wanted to have the night, to feel good again. And as dumb as it sounded, I wanted the same for him. To connect with him in the only way he’d let me.

“Is that so?” His brow rose, while his mouth twitched at the edges, hinting at a smile underneath.

“Yes, I would have thought the orgasm was enough of a clue.” I smirked back.

Okay, so I wasn’t entirely honest, but if I told him exactly how I felt, he would read it completely the wrong way.

I didn’t have my head in the clouds, planning the seating arrangement of our fictional wedding, but I wasn’t the type of girl who slept with a man she didn’t care about either. And I cared for him. As much as I didn’t understand why, I really, really cared for him.

“You going to freak out if we do that again?” His hand stretched out, his knuckle grazing my belly.

“The sex, or talk?” I cocked my head off the pillow, interested in where this was going.

“You know I hate to talk.”

“I’m not a china doll, Michael. You won’t break me.”

“Good, because I don’t want to.”

Was he still talking about the sex, or was he saying something else? Short of driving myself insane dissecting the sentence, I decided he meant the sex. He wasn’t gentle and I could tell part of him was still holding back. But his darkness didn’t scare me.

“You won’t.”

With a nod he shifted closer, and I was surprised at how much I wanted this. No victims, remember? And I wasn’t going to start acting like one now.

***

I lost count of the times we reached for each other—three, maybe four—but the last time it had been different. Maybe it was fatigue, both of us worn out, but he was slower, more deliberate than he’d been before.

He wasn’t holding back either. He was still just as raw as the first time, but different. Like he was giving me more of himself, and whatever mask he’d been wearing was well and truly off.

When I looked into his eyes, I saw him. I saw who he was, not who he thought he’d become, and I saw kindness. There was humanity in him, there was good in him, and he had to have felt it too. The layers slowly stripped away from both of us.

I don’t remember deciding to fall asleep, I don’t remember wrapping myself around him, but I do remember feeling calm and safe as my eyes slowly began to close. We were naked together—it had nothing to do with our state of undress—and no matter what the consequences were tomorrow, I wouldn’t regret it.





Consciousness came at me in a rush.

Like I’d been kicked in the ass, my eyes flew open while my spine felt like some * had it hooked up to a car battery.

I was holding her.

Not just holding her, but our bodies were so intertwined in a twist of limbs that I wasn’t sure where mine ended and hers started.

Her hand was resting on my chest, and I could feel her hot breath blow out of those puffy pink lips as she slept soundly.

This shit was out of control.

It wasn’t the sex. Hell, if all that had happened was f*cking, I could have lived with it. Two consenting adults, and even though circumstances weren’t great—no harm, no foul.