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“Wait, Scar.” I pull back before my head is too far gone.
She moans in frustration. “Distract me. Please.” She just about begs, her voice catching on the last word.
I tilt my head to the side and look at her, not sure if emotionally she’s here with me at this moment. I don’t want to be a distraction from her pain. I want to help her carry it.
I gently pull her off of my lap and stand, needing a moment to take everything in and take a breath.
Nothing that she just said changes the way that I feel about her. If anything, it makes me love her more to see her finally open up and be vulnerable with me. That’s what I’ve wanted since the beginning. I wanted to see her walls come down between us, turn into rubble at our feet.
But it’s also been a heavy morning for her, for the both of us. And I want to give her a second to also come down from the adrenaline that’s been coursing through her since she saw the article.
Fucking bastards. I’d love to have even just a minute with these close sources and writers who laid all of Scar’s pain out for the world to feast on.
“Are you okay?” Scar asks me, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Like if she curls herself up into a small enough ball, she can disappear.
“I should be asking you that question.” I crack my neck side to side, relishing the pop earned with the movement.
“You have, in so many ways. So now, tell me the truth.”
Her eyes bore into me, as if they could carve the answer out of me.
“I’m angry.” The words come out with a puff of air as my chest deflates. “Not at you, but at the people who did this to you. But then I’m also happy, because you finally said the words I’ve been dying to hear from your lips for a while now. And I don’t know how the two can coexist in my body at the same time.”
I pace the small walkway of the bus, the two polar opposite emotions swirling inside of me, battling for dominance, and I honestly don’t know which one I’m rooting for to win.
Part of me wants to cling to the anger, to stroke it and let it burn inside of me. It fits in so nicely with all of the frustration I’ve felt over the past few months with working on the album and failing, the two situations cozying up to one another and wanting to be felt.
But the other part of me just wants to let all of it go, even if just for a moment, a minute, an hour. Let it go and let the satisfaction and joy of hearing Scar tell me she loves me override everything else. I want to spin around and grab her, hold her, kiss her, fuck her. Just be close to her and relish in this moment where through so much darkness there was a ray of hope that shot through it all.
As I reach the end of the bus and turn to look at her, still sitting on her spot on the couch, my mind is made up.
I stalk forward and grab her face, dipping my head down to find her mouth. “I’m not going to be a distraction from your pain, do you understand me?” I say against her lips, keeping us just a breath apart, denying her what she wants until she answers me.
“You’re not. I didn’t mean it like that.” She pants and her hands cling desperately to my waist, fingers digging in so hard they may leave bruises behind. “I’m sorry.”
I hold her in place, still not letting her kiss me. Not yet.
“If I take you into that room and fuck you, is your mind going to be with me because you want it to, or because you need it to?”
“I want it,” she begs. “I want you. Please, Walker. You’ve kept me waiting long enough, haven’t you?”
Her words go straight to my cock.
“Fuck, I love hearing you beg.”
Before she can blink, I reach forward and grab her thighs, pulling her up from the couch and into my arms. Scar’s legs cling to me as she lets out a surprised yelp. I slam my mouth to hers, dominating her, refusing to let her take over as she fights for power.
I carry her toward the back of the bus, taking us into the back room and swiftly deposit her on the large sectional. Not my first choice in location for fucking her for the first time, but it’ll do. There’s no more waiting for a hotel room or a long weekend that we can spend free and wrapped up in each other's arms. This is what we have and I’m going to make the most of it.
I pull my shirt off in one easy swoop, watching Scar track my movement as her eyes devour me, scanning my chest and arms like she wants to taste every inch.
Reaching down, I pull the hem of her own shirt up and over her head, and let out a strangled breath when I realize she’s naked under it. Her nipples peak under the cool air and I can’t help myself as I reach out and palm her breasts, softly pinching and rolling them between my fingers.
Scar throws her head back, arching her back and pushing her chest further into my hands. “That feels incredible,” she says, her breath already starting to pick up.
I bend down and pull a nipple into my mouth, gently biting it and smiling at the sharp gasp it earns me. Scar’s fingers find their way into my hair, and I love the desperation in which she holds it tightly at the root.
“What if the guys come back?” she pants. “Did you lock the door when you came in?”
