Page 90 of Fighting the Darkness

“Well?” he asks when I’ve been silent for too long. “You acted like you had something to say.”

I nod. “I do... I just... It’s hard to know where to start.”

“Why don’t you start by repeating what you said so I can make sure I heard you correctly?”

“I’m sorry,” I repeat succinctly. “I know that this issue between me and you is my fault. I’m the one who started this pissing contest, or whatever it is.”

“And why is that?”

I clench my jaw, rolling my neck as I remind myself that I’m supposed to be fixing things—not making them worse. If he wants me to spell things out to him, then I will. I owe that to him and to Freya.

“When Freyr and I met you, I was just beginning to discover my sexuality,” I tell him. “You weren’t the first man I was attracted to, but it was close to it. You were hot and older, and a damn good fighter. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be you or bone you. Apparently, I landed on trying to bone you. At sixteen, I understood why you had to push me away. You were nine years my senior, and I was underage. Of course you turned me away.

“When I turned eighteen and was legally old enough to sleep with you, I figured that was our chance. But you turned me downagain. Obviously, it wasn’t my age that had you turning me down. You never said what your sexuality was, but I saw you with men and women, so I knew that couldn’t be it. So you must not have been attracted to me.“ I hold up my hand when he opens his mouth to talk. “Please let me get this out first, Soren, please?”

I don’t know if it’s the please that does it, but he inclines his head, gesturing for me to continue.

“At the time, I figured you found me wholly unattractive, and that stung. I know I’m good looking. I’ve never had a problem getting someone to sleep with me, but with you, I didn’t just want to sleep with you. I wanted something more. You were like Freya to me. The two of you were in a category all your own. You were both special, and as much as I wanted you, I couldn’t have you. With Freya, I just stopped speaking to her because she hadn’t rejected me. Her brother told me to stay away.

“But your rejection stung so badly that I wanted to lash out at you. So I did. Any time I felt hurt by what you’d done, I’d lash out. I’d be cruel with my words or actions. I needed to pretend like your rejection meant nothing—that you meant nothing. That became all I cared about. I just needed to show you that I didn’t need you to sleep with me. That I was fine with the decision you made. That it didn’t affect me, when it really hit me so hard I didn’t know what to do with myself. Eventually, it just became a habit, and I couldn’t remember why I hated you so much, but I knew I had made that decision and needed to stick to it. I was an arrogant child, and I deserved you turning me down. I wasn’t mature enough for you—I just thought I was.”

Taking a deep breath, I lift my eyes to meet his once more. “I’m sorry that I treated you like shit. I’m sorry that instead of acting like the adult I thought I was, I threw a tantrum. I’m sorry if my words or actions hurt you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop being a stubborn bastard long enough to pull my head out of my ass. I’m just sorry.”

“I didn’t reject you because I wasn’t attracted to you,” Soren admits. “I rejected you because you were still too young, and I’d been drinking. My faculties were impaired, but I was aware enough to know that saying yes then would be a mistake. If I’d been sober, I still would have said no, but I would’ve explained it a little more. I was in my late twenties, and we were at different points in our lives. I’ve dated younger men and women, but usually just a few years younger, and even older ones—I mean, look at me and Griffin.

“But I put a hard limit in place for myself when I turned twenty-two. I wouldn’t sleep with anyone who wasn’t old enough to drink. I really preferred if they were slightly older because I wasn’t looking for someone who was still in the partying stage of their life. I thought I was ready to find the one meant for me and settle down. Turns out, I was lying to myself about that one. But it was never about how attractive I did or didn’t find you, Wilder. Trust me on that one. I have always been attracted to you. The age difference was just too significant.”

I stare at him, eyes wide. “So... all this time?”

“I’ve been attracted to you? Yes.”

I sit there frozen for another moment before launching myself across the couch toward him. Straddling him, I bring our lips together in a soft, testing kiss. I didn’t ask if he was interested in me, I just threw myself at him.

Ugh, this is the same thing I did four years ago.

I jerk back from him, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. You didn’t say—“

Soren doesn’t bother cutting me off with words. Instead, he yanks my head down to his and kisses the hell out of me. I slide my hands under his shirt, loving the way he gasps as I trail my fingers over his body. I spent so long imagining this, and it’s already so much better than any fantasy I could have thought up.

Pulling back from the kiss, I shove his shirt up, and he helps me pull it over his head. Reaching behind me, I grab the collar of my own shirt and do the same. Then we’re coming back together, lips meeting and tongues dueling.

Our hands roam as we learn one another’s mouths and bodies.

If someone would have told eighteen-year-old me that I’d be here in Soren’s arms in just a few years, I would have told them to get fucked. Not only would I not have believed them, but I would’ve pretended that I didn’t care. But I did—Isodid.

Unable to hold myself back, I begin to rock against him. His cock is just as hard as mine, and I need to touch it—feel it.

Reaching between us, I pause at the waistband of his pants and pull back from the kiss. “Can I?”

“Please do. But only if you take off your pants too.” His voice is husky with need, already pulling me back in for another kiss. And how the hell am I supposed to say no to that?

Oh, right. I don’t want to.

I flick the button of his jeans open, sliding the zipper down slowly before grasping the waistband once more and pulling. Soren lifts his hips so I can slide them down his legs, and we have to break our kiss again so I can get the jeans and boxer briefs off of him. I toss them to the side as I push to my feet, shoving my sweatpants down my hips. My hand goes to my cock, stroking it as I take in the gorgeous picture before me.

All those piercings in a row. What would they feel like inside of me?

“Are you just going to stand there all night?” he taunts, eyebrow cocked.

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