Page 5 of Deranged
“Smooth way to brag.”
Field chuckled. “You’re one to talk. I recall you telling me several times that I can’t handle you.”
The world flipped. Henry didn’t have time to panic or stop it from happening. Before he hit the ground, Field caught him and broke his fall. In one smooth move, Field had him on his back and tossed one leg over Henry, straddling him. Their faces were inches apart.
“You can add crazy to my resume.”
Henry clicked off the safety of the gun he held against Field’s head. “Same.”
Field’s smile grew. “Do it.”
They held each other’s stare, waiting for the other to blink. Henry had no clue who moved first. Their mouths met. The gun dropped from Henry’s fingers. He grabbed Field’s hair and held on. Their kiss was all hunger. Henry’s body was on fire. It was the first time they had ever kissed. It seemed odd to know how Field’s mouth felt on his cock and not know the taste of his tongue. He bit Field’s bottom lip and sucked.
“Fuck yeah. Hurt me.”
Field’s growled words calmed him. He didn’t know it yet, but Field didn’t need more pain. Field needed something he had never been given. “Be ready for me in an hour.” He rolled, dumping Field in the grass. Henry stole another kiss before popping to his feet. He would take a risk. One was long overdue.
A small part of Field considered not letting Henry in. He had been hanging by a thread for a while now. A night with Henry might be the thing that finally snipped that final string. Unfortunately, he was a masochist. He would let Henry wreck him. Field didn’t know any other way to be.
There was no more avoiding things. He couldn’t hide in the shower all night. Field shut down the water and shook out his hair like a dog. It was getting shaggy. He needed to ask Crisp to trim it for him. Field didn’t trust anyone but his brothers that close to him with scissors. Crisp was the only one who knew how to cut hair. Field grabbed the towel off its hook and swung open the fogged over door of the wet room. Henry stood, leaning against the frame of the bathroom doorway with his arms crossed over his massive chest. He was shirtless and barefoot, with the button on his jeans already undone. Field couldn’t stop the way his eyes inspected the dark line of hair that ran down his stomach and disappeared inside his jeans. The bright light inside the bathroom shimmered on Henry’s hair, highlighting the gray threading through it and his beard. Damn. He really made Field’s mouth water.
Henry straightened and pulled a satin-looking piece of material from his back pocket. “Come on. I need to get this around your wrists.”
Field was a little glad he held a towel that hid his junk. He wasn’t embarrassed. Field simply didn’t like the idea of Henry knowing how quickly that one statement got him hard. Without a word, he headed for the bedroom, ready to obey.
Henry tossed the binding on the bed and took away Field’s towel. He dried Field’s skin. While he did, Field studied his features. He didn’t have laugh lines around his eyes. At his age, that definitely said how little he smiled. Maybe he got Botox, but Field doubted it. Henry didn’t seem like the type to care if he caught anyone’s eye or stayed young beyond needing to be strong for Beau’s sake. Field wondered if the guy cared about anything. He knew Henry was in love with Mickey, but he wasn’t sure it was truly a passionate love. It felt more like a coveting situation alongside hurt pride from losing Mickey. He got the impression Henry didn’t feel much of anything positive.
“You’ve not been taking care of these wounds.”
Field didn’t want to talk about that. He shrugged. “Look at me. What’s it matter?”
Henry didn’t respond, proving him correct. Field already had nothing going for him. All the ugly scars in the world didn’t change anything now. They simply blended with the rest. Who knew? Maybe he would end up with a cool pattern now. Field had given up looking at himself a long time ago. There was nothing to see.
Henry tossed the towel aside and pointed toward the bed. “On your back.”
Field followed his instructions.
Henry was right behind him. He straddled Field’s body with the material in hand. “Hands above your head. Clasp them. Don’tcross them. I need this long enough and in the perfect position to still be able to flip you.”
Damn. This sounded fun. He wasn’t afraid to hand over control. It seemed like he should be terrified. Nothing good had ever come from being trapped, but Zeus had taught him the difference when consent was given. He had handed the control back to Field. Field knew when to submit now. That was good for his sanity when it was the right person. He had been around Henry for a while now. The guy had plenty of opportunities to show an ugly side. He hadn’t. Field would give him a shot.
Henry made sure the knot was tight. He spoke as he worked. “You’re free to stop anytime you want.” His light brown gaze locked on Field’s face. “I’m hoping you don’t, though.”
Field turned ridiculous, the way he always did when things got too serious. “What? Do you think I’m capable of thinking anything is too far? Dude, my mind is gone.”
Henry didn’t smile. He climbed from the bed and gathered some things from the bedside table Field hadn’t noticed. Then he was back, straddling Field’s thighs.
“I don’t like the way you don’t care about yourself.”
Field’s humor died an immediate death. He didn’t like this game.
Henry didn’t stop. “You’re a good person. I watched you a lot today.” His gaze locked on Field’s eyes and held his stare. He looked intense. “Do you know what I saw?”
“No.” The answer sounded like it hurt his throat because it did. No one should look too closely at him.
Henry never looked away, as if he needed Field to see he spoke the truth. “That you’re amazing.”
“No.” This game wasn’t fun. They couldn’t talk about him.
