Page 41 of The Highwaymen

My heart did a funny little flip in my chest. Carefully, hardly daring to breathe, I laid my head on his broad chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat filled my ear, slower and more soothing than I expected.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this close to someone without sex or violence being involved. It was a strange, almost unnerving feeling, like my skin didn't quite fit right. But at the same time, there was a rightness to it that I couldn't deny, a sense of peace I'd never known before.

Stu shifted beneath me and I tensed, ready for him to push me away. But he simply wrapped an arm around my waist, tugging me closer. A soft sigh escaped him, ruffling my hair.

I squeezed my eyes shut, suddenly overwhelmed. I didn't know how to handle these new, tender feelings welling up inside me.

All my life, I'd been told I was dirty, worthless, good for nothing but a quick fuck. I'd learned to harden my heart, to use my body as a weapon and a tool. Sex was just another form of violence, a way to dominate or be dominated. There was no room for softness, for intimacy or care.

But Stu had begun to chip away at my defenses from the moment we met, seeing through my bravado to the damaged kid underneath. And now, entwined with him in this dingy motel bed, I felt those walls crumbling to dust.

I wanted him, not justwith the fierce, animalistic hunger I was used to, but with a deeper, soul-deep yearning that rocked me to my core. It wasn’t just a desire for sex that kept driving me back to him, or our shared interest in killing.

It was more than that, something far more dangerous. Something that felt perilously close to love.

I nuzzled into the crook of Stu's neck, breathing in the musky, masculine scent of him. Beneath the ever-present tang of cigarette smoke, he smelled like leather and gun oil and something uniquely Stu. It soothed me even as it made my pulse race.

I wanted to sink into him, to lose myself in his strength and heat and never surface. It was a terrifying thought for someone like me, who'd learned early and often never to trust, never to need anyone. Needing people gave them power over you. It made you vulnerable, weak.

And I'd vowed long ago never to be weak again. I'd remade myself into someone hard and ruthless, someone who took what they wanted and to hell with the consequences. Caring about anything or anyone was a liability I couldn't afford.

But lying there with Stu's arms around me, listening to the steady drum of his heart, I knew it was already too late. Somehow, this gruff, dangerous man had worked his way past all my defenses, burrowing deep into my battered heart.

The realization was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. I didn't know how to do this, how to navigate the minefield of things he was making me feel. All I knew was that I wanted him with a desperation that bordered on madness.

I pressed my lips against the scruff on his cheek. Not quite a kiss, just a press of skin against skin.

Stu mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and tightened his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer. I held my breath,waiting for him to wake up and push me away. But he just sighed and nuzzled into my hair, still deeply asleep.

I couldn't believe he was letting me this close, that he seemed to crave my touch even in unconsciousness. It made something warm and unfamiliar bloom in my chest. For once, I didn't feel like a dirty whore or a broken toy. I felt... cherished. Protected.

Tears pricked unexpectedly at my eyes. I blinked them away furiously, burying my face in Stu's chest. I couldn't remember the last time I'd cried. Probably not since I was a little kid, before I learned that tears got you nothing but more pain.

But these tears felt different. They weren't born of fear or despair, but of an overwhelming feeling I couldn't quite name. Gratitude, maybe. Or something even more dangerous that I didn't dare put a label on.

I knew I was playing with fire, letting myself feel this way about Stu. He'd made it clear he wasn't interested in anything more than fucking. And even if he was, men like us... we weren't built for softness. For intimacy or tenderness.

We were killers, both of us. Damaged beyond repair. The smart thing would be to keep my distance, to get out while I had the chance.

But I'd never been very smart when it came to Stu. From the moment we met, he'd had a hold on me, an inexplicable pull that kept drawing me back no matter how hard I tried to resist.

Lying there in his arms, I knew I was in too deep to walk away now. I needed him like I needed air, like a junkie needed his next fix. It was a craving that went beyond the physical, beyond the thrill of the kill.

He made me feel alive in a way I never had before, like I'd been sleepwalking through life until he woke me up. With him, I could be my true self - violent and vicious and so very hungry. He understood thedarkness in me because he had it too, that yawning void that could only be filled with blood.

But it was more than that. He saw me, the real me beneath the swagger and the scars. And instead of being repulsed or afraid, he embraced it. Embraced me.

I'd never had that before. Never had anyone look at the ugliest, most broken parts of me and accept them. Want them, even.

It was intoxicating. Addicting. And I knew I'd crave it, crave him, until the day I died.

I could have stayed like that forever, wrapped up in Stu's solid warmth, breathing in his scent. But eventually the need to see his face, to look into those icy blue eyes, grew too strong to ignore.

Slowly, carefully, I raised my head from his chest. In sleep, the harsh lines of his face were smoothed out, making him look younger, almost boyish. His lashes lay against his cheeks, twin smudges of soot, and his mouth was slack and soft.

I drank in the sight of him hungrily, committing every detail to memory. The faint creases at the corners of his eyes, the silver threading through the dark stubble along his jaw. A thin scar, paler than the surrounding skin, slashed across his right eyebrow. I wondered how he'd gotten it.

There was so much I didn't know about him, so much I yearned to discover. He was a mystery, an enigma, one I desperately wanted to unravel.

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