Page 33 of Deceive Me
The shower helped…some. She spent a good bit of the time pushing away thoughts of Deacon coming through the connecting door while she was naked. Running the towel across her wet skin, she realized how sensitized it was, how her nipples stood out—and not from the cold. Her lower belly felt warm, heavy. Empty. When she pressed her palm against it, the muscles clenched, grasping on nothing and yet making her far too aware of what it would feel like to clench on something.
No, this was not good at all.
A shudder went through her, part unbearable arousal, part revulsion. The only time she’d allowed herself to pursue a man, to give in to desire, it had been a pale shadow of this hunger. She’d been a teen, barely sixteen. Dating had been forbidden in the general’s compound, but teens being teens, there’d been plenty of sneaking around. Elliot had done it only once, with a boy a year older than her. Josh. A clumsy fumbling encounter in a closet had divested her of her virginity, though not of her ignorance when it came to the opposite sex. When General Ingram discovered them, he’d locked her in solitary for a week. She’d emerged, embarrassed and still angry, only to find Josh was no longer in the compound.
She’d never heard what happened to him. And she’d never allowed herself to think about another man the way her teenage self had thought about Josh. No illusions, no fantasizing, and definitely no sex. Her attraction to Deacon didn’t seem like it would comply with the rules she’d laid out for herself.
It had to stop. And if her body wouldn’t listen to her, she knew just who it would listen to. The only man she’d ever willingly followed orders from.
Dain was alone in the library when she arrived, fifteen minutes ahead of the daily briefing. He glanced up at her entry, his hair still wet from his own shower. Elliot watched the greeting on his lips die as she locked the library door behind herself.
“What’s wrong?”
She crossed the room to the table where he sat, holding her breath the whole way. All it did was make her light-headed; no answers appeared in the ten seconds her steps took. “Dain…”
Those dark brown eyes had seemed menacing when she hadn’t known him. Added to the thick Mohawk that striped his head, the light brown skin, and the hawkish features, Dain was an intimidating man, but he’d never intimidated her. This was the man who’d found her when she was lost and given her a place to belong. She opened her mouth, not completely sure what would come out.
“I have a problem.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I don’t?” Dain knew her better than anyone. If he said she didn’t have a problem, maybe she was hiding it better than she’d thought.
“No. You don’t have problems, do you, Otter?”
I never have before.
“This is definitely a problem,” she argued.
“With Deacon?”
How did he know that? “Fuck.”
Dain laughed.
She punched him in the arm, cutting off his laughter but not his amusement. “Don’t make fun of me, asshole.”
He raised his hands in defense. “I’m not making fun, I promise.” He grinned. “I’m just relieved.”
“Relieved?” What was there to be relieved about? And why wasn’t he helping her? She needed help, not encouragement—that was the road to hell, one she wouldn’t allow herself to take.
“Relieved.” Dain’s stare felt like a microscope searching out her innermost secrets. Or maybe a spotlight. He was revealing things she really didn’t want revealed, even to herself.
Seeming oblivious to her turmoil, Dain slid back in his seat—just out of punching range, she noticed—and continued. “I was beginning to wonder if you even had a libido. Figured it was all channeled into extreme aggression.” He shrugged. “I’m a bit relieved to realize you’re normal.”
“I’m…” She sputtered for a moment, not sure how to react, then settled on a growl. Dain rolled back in his chair, clutching his belly as laughter spilled out.
“Only you would take being normal as an insult, little Otter.”
The truth slapped her hard. “I— No, it’s not an insult.” Was it? Maybe she’d taken a bit more pride in being different than she’d realized. Her identity had been tied up in being a kick-ass female for so long. “I didn’t— I—”
Dain stood then, moving toward her. She felt the hug coming, felt the instinct to shrink back, but she clamped down on her muscles, refusing the urge. Dain’s arms came around her shoulders, and when he tugged her out of her seat, she let her hands settle on his chest. No zing, nothing sexual, just warm comfort. It was at once odd and familiar—confusing—but she let it happen anyway.
Dain held her for no more than a moment before stepping back to pin her with the intensity of his stare. “Yes, you’re normal. You always have been. Normal doesn’t mean all the same. You may feel even more out of the loop because of your background, but that doesn’t negate your normalcy; you’re human.”
She nodded, at a loss for words.
Dain plowed right on like he hadn’t just thrown a bomb in her mental playground. He sat, gesturing her back into her own. “So…Deacon.”
