Page 39 of Hell and High Water

He stills, shuddering as I drag my lips all the way back up to the tip, sucking every drop off him and licking my lips.

“My goddess, Hella. You’re?—”

“Amazing? I know. So, what’s next?”

8

GAVIN

After spending several days alone with Hellena at the house, just the two of us, I feel strange being out on my own.

Not bad. I’ve spent so much more of my life that way than with someone.

I feel an ache, an absence, when I'm not with her. She's become a part of who I am, which is as always a double-edged sword. Still, it’s good to have some time to myself, too.

She’ll need time like that soon, too.

Or she’ll likely do something reckless to get out and about.

Not that I can blame her. Isolating myself in the woods took time to get used to. Staying in one place…

The soldier in me, the mercenary, was used to traveling, never setting down roots.

Staying too long, letting people in… Trust is dangerous.

But this is new. Different.

One thing is certain in my heart and mind. I can’t live without her.

Even if it means sharing her with another guy. Or two.

A younger version of myself would be shocked. Funny thing is, the fact that she has more than one protector, more than one person who would put everything on the line for her actually puts my mind at ease. That overprotective part of me that has a hard time letting her out of my sight when things are dicey…

Knowing she’s with another trustworthy paramour calms the raging violence and worry that sometimes threaten to overwhelm me.

Seeing her shot broke something in me, I think.

But Hellena is her own person, and I won’t subdue her or lessen her by belittling her ability to take care of herself.

Enough already with the head games, sheesh.

I crank up the radio, letting a little Zeppelin and the stiff breeze clipping through the windows clear my head.

It’s a little over an hour back to Sanctum Harbor, so it gives me time to think.

Time to plan.

Something has been itching in the back of my brain ever since the shooting. The gunshot, the sound and the distance the shot had to come from…

Too familiar.

But I might just be imagining it. Too many battlefields, too many covert ops.

It’s probably just deja vu from too many incidents of gunfire. Damon would tell me to look at it without that lens, to stay objective.

Which brings me back to that itching feeling that I’m missing something.

Trying to dig it out, though? That's like trying to remember a random client’s name from a job you worked at twenty years ago.

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