Page 11 of Shelter (The Wanderers 4)

Neither of them was angry with the other. They were simply stressed and furious with the situation.

Storm forced himself to calm down as he glanced at the door. “How’d it go?” he whispered.

“About how you’d expect.”

“Will she do it?”

Bray sighed. “I don’t know. She said she would.” He spun around, his hands on his head. They were taking a risk standing here talking, but not as high as if Bray was caught inside the room.

Storm could come up with a dozen reasons why he might be chatting with Bray late at night. Explaining why his friend was consorting with his wife would be more difficult.

Now that they all understood Lorena’s game plan and timetable it made more sense why she’d recently stopped encouraging Bray to visit his wife’s room. Lorena assumed Bray was infertile and she couldn’t see any reason for Bray to continue having sex with his wife if it wasn’t producing an heir.

“I hate this,” Bray hissed as quietly as possible. “I fucking hate it.” He pointed at the door. “That’s my goddamn wife. I married her. I don’t care that I didn’t know her that day. She’s mine now to care for and I’m breaking her heart.”

Storm swallowed hard. In some respects, he got the better deal when it came to Haley. He rarely left her side. He didn’t get nearly as much alone time as Bray, but he got the pleasure of watching her, staring at her.

Bray’s words made him flinch. It was true Haley had been brought into this home to provide an heir for the Hanson family, but Storm knew she was just as much his as Bray’s. Bray knew it too.

Hell, she belonged to Riggs also. Riggs even got alone time with Haley. Sometimes as much as he wanted. Why? The reason made Storm growl deep in his throat. He understood why. Because Lorena didn’t give a fuck who impregnated Haley as long as someone did.

Alas, Bray’s crazy mother had no idea that no one was having sex with Haley. No one had even touched her.

Storm was beyond aware of the reason he didn’t have the same privilege as Bray and Riggs. In many households, the bodyguard for the young wife had just as much access to the woman as her own husband.

Storm had one unfortunate characteristic that kept him from being granted such liberties. He was black. Oddly enough, no one in this post-apocalyptic world cared much about skin color. What they cared about was appearances. Lorena wanted the world to believe her own son was capable of providing an heir. If the actual father was Riggs—or apparently the poor bastard in the basement—so be it. But eyebrows would rise if the baby was clearly not Bray’s. It would put a stain on their reputation.

Bray stared at the door. “Can you just…?”

Storm nodded. “I’ve got this. Go to bed. Get some sleep.”

“Why should I be granted sleep? Haley certainly won’t be sleeping,” Bray pointed out.

Storm cringed. He was well-aware. He couldn’t imagine what was going through Haley’s mind right now. No, that wasn’t true. He could totally imagine. That’s what was tearing him up inside.

He set a hand on Bray’s shoulder. “I’ll check on her in a bit,” he reassured his friend. It was the only thing he could do.

Braylon nodded and turned to head down the hallway toward his own suite. Riggs had a suite next to Bray’s. There was no doubt he too was pacing his room, pulling his hair out.

Storm returned his attention to the door, listening closely. For a long time, not a single sound came from inside. Storm began to relax, hoping Haley had figured out how to use the fucking dildo and gone to sleep afterward.

But then a noise caught his attention, making him flinch—a soft thump followed by a whimper.

Storm glanced both ways. The house was silent. He decided to take a risk and check on Haley. Soundlessly, he turned her doorknob. This wasn’t something he did often. He was invading her privacy. He might cause her to cry out if he scared her.

The sight that greeted him was otherworldly. It took his breath away. Haley was standing next to her bed, her body sideways. The window was behind her on the other side of the bed. She was wearing a thin gossamer negligee and nothing else.

The light coming from the moon revealed her body to him in silhouette. Her delicate features burned themselves in his mind. Her small, rounded breasts and pert nipples were high and perfect. Her waist dipped delicately. Her hips flared out slightly. She didn’t have on panties.

She was a goddess, and he had no business staring at her. But he couldn’t look away. For the longest moment, he forgot all their problems and the reason he was in her room in the first place.

As if she slowly sensed him, she lifted her gaze and turned her head to face him. Even in the dim light, he could see she’d been crying. His chest tightened. His hands were tied. There was very little he could do to ease her pain.

She didn’t flinch. In fact, she licked her lips as if she’d been expecting him. “I can’t do it,” she whispered. She reached for the glass dildo lying on the bed and held it up.

This shouldn’t be happening. Part of him wanted to turn and leave the room. This sweet, perfect woman shouldn’t be sharing everything Storm could see on her face with her bodyguard.

Except she was, and he was more than her bodyguard, and they both knew it on some unspoken level.

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