Page 39 of Deceiver

Quietly, we make our way back down to the shed, past the swarms of people and police officers. Fury can handle the situation out there. Right now, Western needs to process what just happened. A shooting death would be a trigger for him, I have no doubt about that, and he needs someone right now. Even if he thinks he doesn’t.

He walks straight into the living area and strips off his bloodied clothes. He tosses them to the ground and glances over his shoulder at me, his eyes so broken, before turning and walking to the shower. I don’t know if that was an invitation, but I’m going to take the risk and assume it was. With trembling fingers, I reach for my clothes and begin stripping down until I’m fully naked. Then, I follow him into the shower.

I hope I’m making the right choice.

8

Hot water runs overour bodies, warming even the coldest parts of us.

Western is facing the wall, his hands above his head, his forehead pressed to the tile in the shower. Water trickles down his back, over the bulges of muscle and intricate tattoos. I stand behind him, not entirely sure how to proceed. He doesn’t like being touched, but, right now, all I want to do is touch him. With shaky hands, I reach out and place my fingertips on his back. He flinches and turns, his cock already rock hard.

“No,” he growls.

I drop my hand.

Everything inside me so desperately wants to put my hands on him, but I can’t push him right now.

“Hands by your sides,” he grinds out.

I do as he asks, dropping my hands to my sides.

He reaches for me, his fingers tangling in my wet hair and curling until he forms a fist. I gasp as he pulls me closer, his lips only millimeters from mine, his breath hot and heavy against my mouth. Parting my lips slightly, I look up to meet his eyes. I want his mouth on mine, more than I want anything else in the world right now. Chest rising and falling, I hold his gaze, unsure what he’s going to do next.

His heavy pants blow air against my lips, and it feels as though the world stops when he finally brings his down over mine. The kiss is hard and fueled by the kind of emotion I couldn’t possibly understand. It’s hungry, it’s desperate, and it’s him screaming for comfort in the only way he knows how. I moan against his mouth as he parts my lips with his tongue, deepening the kiss until my body aches for him.

I want so much more, but, tonight, I’m letting him take the lead.

I’m just here for the ride.

Western kisses me until my lips burn, the kind of kiss he’s never given me before. It’s deep, and it’s meaningful. It’s full of the kind of emotions he’s too scared to show, so he’s giving it to me in a different way. I’ll take it, no matter what way he gives it. I’m in love with this man, and this moment, right here, only solidifies that.

After minutes of the most intense make-out session I’ve had in my life, Western pulls away, his forehead pressing to mine. I open my eyes, staring at his wounded face as water pours down around us. He has his eyes closed, but even then, I can see how much he’s hurting. These men, they’re the only family he has. They’re his entire life. Losing one, for him, would be like losing a little piece of himself. Scanning his face, my heart aches, and my fingers itch to comfort him.

I watch as a lone tear slides down his cheek.

If you blink, you’d miss it.

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