Page 164 of There's No Us Without You
“Even if it means you need to use your safe words?” I raise an eyebrow, assessing her reaction.
Swallowing, she nods. “Yes.”
I run a thumb over her bottom lip. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
With a kiss to my chest, Eden runs a finger over my tattoos. “Can I ask you something?” she says, her voice unsure.
For a moment, I’m silent. Do I want to answer her question?
After what was one of the most intense sexual encounters I’ve had so far in my twenty-three years of life, I suppose now is a good time to let someone in. “Sure,” I say, sighing.
“How did you get into this lifestyle?”
I twirl her hair around my fingers as I stare at the ceiling, contemplating her question.
“It’s fine,” Eden says when I don’t answer. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” She presses another soft kiss to my chest.
I want to.
I just . . . don’t know how.
My heart slams against my ribcage. I’m sure Eden notices. “I’m not sure what Tyler has told you about our childhood.”
Eden rests her chin on my chest, her eyes searching mine. “Not a lot, honestly. Mainly that he wasn’t the best brother.”
I purse my lips, nodding. That’s the understatement of the fucking century. Although, right now, I’m more concerned about where the fuck Tyler is. He still hasn’t messaged me back from Saturday night.
Or Sunday.
Or yesterday.
Or today.
It’s not unusual for him to go missing for days at a time, but this is ridiculous.
His usual style is to fuck off for a few days, get wasted, then come back when he needs money.
“He didn’t know any better,” I say, my fingers now tracing the shell of Eden’s ear. “Our father wasn’t exactly the nurturing type. When I was about nineteen, I got into some dumb shit online, hacking... that sort of thing. It made me feel like I could control something, but it landed me in a couple of overnightstays in lockup and I couldn’t leave Tyler alone with my father, so I found something else that gave me the control I craved.”
Eden nods, her chin digging into my chest. “Did you always need to dominate?”
I lift a shoulder. “I guess. It was always there, but I could never show it at home.”
“Is that . . . because of your dad?”
“Mostly.”
“I’m so sorry, Will,” Eden says, a tear slipping down her cheek.
Fuck this. If I knew telling her about my childhood would have her crying, I’d have refused.
“Hey,” I say, gripping the back of her head. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me. I’ve done alright for myself.”
“I know,” she says, sniffing. “But?—”
“But nothing. This conversation is over.”
“Will—”
