Page 49 of Bullet

Willa shrugs good naturedly. “Okay. In that case, I’ll take an extra-long shower. Feel free to talk. I can see you both need to.” She sways out of the kitchen, happy with herself and all the turmoil she’s caused. Maybe all the things she’s fixed too.

Lynette eats fast, then puts her plate in the sink and rinses it off. Her hands curl around the counter as she leans forward to look out the window. Unlike her Seattle house, this one overlooks the backyard and not the garage.

“We should talk about it,” I offer, staying where I am at the table, so she doesn’t feel crowded.

“About what?” The rigid set of her spine betrays the tension running through her.

About the fact that I jacked off in front of you and I’d like to do it again.

“I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known it could affect you professionally.”

“Yes, well… sometimes lapses of judgment happen, I told you to continue. It’s not your fault.”

“No, I shouldn’t have been doing that. I take full responsibility for the lack of control. It won’t happen again.”

She turns, half snarling, ready for a fight, but something flashes in her eyes that looks dangerously close to disappointment.

“Or it could happen when it’s an appropriate time,” I amend, but that just makes her snarl harder.

She’s like a female wolf, ready to protect a fresh kill. She’s such a contradiction, so fierce in those professional clothes, and so unearthly beautiful, that it makes me want to laugh and shudder together. Not in fear, obviously.

“You don’t have to go back to that, or all the way back. You can do things legally and still hold on to your morals and principles, and be here. You could… you could still be you and be with me when the timing is right.”

I half expect her to channel all that ferocity and blast me, but she drops her head, letting her wavy hair fall over her face like a curtain. The tension jackknifes between us, oozing away like water through a puncture in a dam. I knew that somethingshifted last night, but I didn’t think it could last. I thought we’d have it out, and she’d tell me with her iron will that it absolutely couldn’t happen again. I’d agree and I’d apologize for the supremely poor judgment.

Some sensation surges up inside me, pushing up like a seedling through thick soil, searching for the light, but I swallow it back before it has a chance to escape.

Professional. Boundaries. Walls. Borders. Those are the words of the day, and they have to remain the words I need to take seriously until my trial is done, or until Harold drops the charges. Whichever comes first.

“The office is already set up just down the hall. I think I’ll go spend some time in there getting everything ready so that by the time Raiden and Wizard get here, I’ve actually done something to further my own cause. I don’t want to have to rely on them, or anyone else from the club, for anything more than I have to.” She glares at me fiercely. “Not because I don’t appreciate it or don’t want it. It’s just that I’m used to doing things for myself. That’s not going to change overnight, and when it’s something like this, I should be doing most of the legwork on my own. Anything less just feels lazy. There’s a difference between being pigheaded and driven. I’ll accept help, but I’m going to do more than my fair share of the work.”

The ‘this is how it’s going to be’attitude and the hard edge to her words might drive another man insane. It might even turn him off completely, and thank god for that. It does the opposite to me.

I just promised I’d use my brain instead of my cock for the large part of the decision-making process, but here I am, wishing I could strip Lynette right out of those clothes, muss her hair,take her here on the counter, the floor, up against the wall, before heading to her home office and fucking her seventy ways to Sunday in there. Seven would never even be close to enough.

For the love of fuck, now I’m harder than titanium again.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Her brows arch up and crash down.

I barely refrain from laughing. She’s not good at hiding her surprise. “Did you expect that I’d argue with you? Act like a macho, chauvinistic, caveman douchebag?”

“I thought you might protest at least a little.”

“No. I want you to be comfortable. I want you to be okay here. Safe. Most of all, I want you to be happy.”

“That’s a tall order.Happiness. You’re not responsible for it.” Her voice is gravelly, and I can hear how much it means to her, though she’s trying not to let it show, that I’d make the offer. “We’ll be okay. Finding my backbone and having an iron will has never been my issue.”

“It’s the softer stuff.”

She bites down on her lip and nods.

I can’t believe she’s being this open. Even just that small admission is monumental.

I let her leave, her heels clacking on the hardwood floor until she reaches the office and then there’s just the quiet shuffle of papers, the shuffling of a case opening, the musical tone of a laptop coming to life.

I thought this would be hard for Lynette and probably for Willa too, but they seem to be far more adaptable and better at managing their emotions than I’ve been. I’ve never been bombarded with so many different sensations as I am now.

---