He stares at my hand and then at my eyes.
I don’t move. “If I had told you I was sleeping with Jane, do you really think the outcome would have been different? There was no way out of this, Akara. You: on this shit-end of Price and Sinclair’s judgment, and me: axed from her detail.”
His face breaks into pity, and it’s like being swallowed by a black hole. Endless nothing on the other side. “You spent less than a year on Jane’s detail,” he says, his voice softer now that we’re closer to the door. “Do you realize that I spent more than three years as a bodyguard to a Cobalt? Two of those were on Connor’s detail. And you know what I learned from that time?”
My stomach twists, a sickening feeling surging all at once.
He looks up with that same pity. “There’salwaysa way out. You don’t have to fall on a sword because it’s sitting in front of you, waiting. You put together the team that’s going to find the right exit. You sidelined me. That’s on you.” He pushes my hand off his arm. “Move.” He reaches the door, gripping the knob, and leaves.
* * *
Akara just cock-blocked my mind.
When he leaves and Jane enters, I wrestle with two conflicting sides. I want to fuck my girlfriend, to please Jane how she needs and deserves to be pleased, but it doesn’t feel right to behappyor satiated after everything I’ve done and everything he said.
I untie my boots while Jane lights candles around the room, a tartan blanket warming her shoulders like a shawl, and we sneak these smoldering glances that burn my soul into blistered pieces—and I’ve craved to tear off her jeans, her shirt, her bra.
To hoist her in my arms and kiss the nape of her neck. For her fingers to claw at my hair. To hear her hungered moans against my ear.
I’ve never been with a woman who loves sex like I do. With an animalistic ferocity. Who needs carnal touch like water, quenching a desperate thirst. Jane is my match, my mate, and I swear to all that’s holy, I’d give her my breath, my body—but guilt is slowly destroying me.
I set my boots against the nightstand, and I rise.
She shakes out a match, waxy candles lit on an antique dresser. I near Jane, my muscles contracting and my blood pumping into my cock, and I watch her breasts push out with shallow, wanting breath. She eases back into the wall, waiting for the inevitable moment where we collide.
I place a strong hand on the burgundy wallpaper. High above her head, and before she speaks, I have to lay down ground rules. “We’re doing things a bit different tonight.”
Her brows quirk. “Are we?”
I slip the button through her jeans. “You ready to go for hours and be spent in my arms?”
She almost moans. “Yes.” Her hands clutch my ass, her hips bowed towards me. “But that’s not so different from most nights.” Curiosity sparkles her blue eyes.
She’s flat-out beautiful.
Gently, I peel her fingers off my body, and her lips part in confusion. I clarify. “You can’t touch my ass, my cock—I’m not getting off, only you are.”
Jane frowns. “I don’t like this.” She searches my hardened gaze. “What’s going on, Thatcher?”
I tell her everything about my conversation with Akara and finish with, “I’ve disrespected him enough, and having sex is another bullet in a gun I’m firing.”
She catches my wrist before I unzip her jeans. “We don’t have to have sex.” We’re breathing like we’re already making love against the wall.
My gaze slips down my girlfriend in a sensual stroke, her wide hips still arched towards me. Her freckled cheeks are flushed and eyes big. She needs more. I need more. My dick twitches, and I expel another hot breath through my nose.
“Okay?” she breathes, her fingers hooking my belt loop. Tension snakes around us, threatening to choke us to fucking death, and the cold house suddenly blazes at a million degrees.
“No.” I brace my forearm to the wall, only a sliver of space separating our bodies.
Jane melts. “Thatcher.” It’s a wanting, needing,pleadingThatcher, but she adds fast, “If you plan to punish yourself, then you better include me. We’re in this together. So if you can’t come, then I can’t either.”
My jaw tenses.Thatwill kill me.
She tries to read my features. “Frankly…” Her voice softens. “I’d much rather you not punish yourself at all because it won’t make you feel any better.”
I know she’s right.
But I’ve never known how to let myself off the hook that easily.