Page 29 of The Heart We Guard
It doesn’t feel submissive at all.
As a kid, I used to love stories about medieval knights. Think it was the suits of armor and being full-time warriors and the fact they lived in magnificent castles made by hand out of stone and brick.
But those knights knelt at the most important times in their lives.
Most people would likely see it as submission, but I always thought it was out of honor.
They’d kneel for the honor of being knighted and getting their spurs. They’d kneel in front of their king for the honor of being one of his chosen leaders. And they’d kneel in front of the woman they loved to honor what they meant to each other.
I want to dismiss the emotions I feel, kneeling in front of Greer in an outdated bathroom in contemporary Denver. It would be easy to say the shift in my feelings is a result of her saving my life, of the intimacy of being in a small room together.
But I’d be lying to myself.
Because Greer Hansen intrigues me like no one I have ever met.
And I want her hands on me more than my next breath.
I was too out of it the first time Greer touched me, pulling bullets out of my body and stitching up the damage they caused.
The second time, when she washed my hair at the sink, I was still on the wrong side of surgery, even though my cock hardened then too.
And last night, I learned what it felt like to kiss a woman like her.
But this time, I want more.
Greer doesn’t make me wait. She reaches for the hem and helps me tug my uninjured arm through the sleeve, first, before pulling it over my head, then sliding the other arm through.
She’s gentle as she moves, and in complete contrast to her usual brisk behavior, she takes her time. I lean forward a little, my forehead resting just below her breasts.
Her T-shirt is soft and smells of laundry detergent.
Reverence seeps through me.
For a moment, I see a different kind of life I could have. One without late-night phone calls and danger. One where I can look myself in the mirror at the end of the day. One where the number of men I’ve killed never increases again.
Though, what kind of life would that be?
I wouldn’t be who I am without the brotherhood.
But could you be something more?
Greer’s fingers slip into my hair and massage my scalp softly.
I close my eyes.
My heart rate slows.
I can hear the whir of the extractor fan and the occasional clang in the pipes of Greer’s old house.
The world stills until it’s just me and Greer, and all I can do is take in the comfort of her. Something I didn’t know she was capable of providing, and didn’t know I wanted.
It’s as if the sum of the two of us just became something more, and I’m scared of it.
I’m scared it’s a magnet, trying to pull me away from who I am and what I know.
Tenderly, I put my arms around her hips and hold on to her. Wildly, tears sting my eyes, like I’m in some weird kind of drop.
“The quieter the thoughts, the more shocking the realizations can be,” Greer says softly. “You’ve been through so much, Nolan.”
