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I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind, and decided to focus on the intense pleasure sweeping over me. We were taking it slow, which for me was partially choice—I was enjoying feeling rather than just fucking. It was also a necessity. I was so close to coming from the get-go, that if we’d torn through each other like a tornado, as we had previously, it would have been over almost before it started.
So much had happened in the previous twenty-four hours that a whole lot of rage, frustration, guilt, and even fear, had built up in my body, waiting to burst free as soon as I was inside her. Instead, I held back, resisted the urge to turn away from her probing stare, and silently let whatever was happening between us happen.
When we came it was in near-silence. Neither of us said anything or made a sound, except for the hiss of our breath as it forced itself through our teeth and from our parted lips. Still, neither of us broke the silence or our locked gazes.
We hadn’t simply climaxed—we’d “come” in the true sense of the word. We’d arrived at a destination together. The problem was I had no idea where the fuck we were, how the hell we’d gotten there, or what to do now that we were there. There were no signposts and no maps. I didn’t have a compass or a satnav. I was lost as all hell.
I’d never been as drawn to a person as I was to Honey at that moment, yet at the same time I’d never wanted to run so far or fast in the opposite direction.
As our bodies were wracked with the aftermath of our orgasms, Honey continued to stare me down cautiously, as though wary I might suddenly do something unexpected. Little did she know that what I had just done was unexpected. I’d never been with someone so intensely.
Sure I’d had urgent, frenetic, and even rough sex—hell, I’d done all of the above with Honey. But I’d never been with someone in such a way that felt like we were creating something together that was way more significant than our impending orgasms.
I’d never felt like, in joining my body with someone else’s, I was also joining my soul to theirs, weaving it into the already rich tapestry of their life. I’d definitely never questioned the meaning of sex, or wondered what strings were attached.
Like playing ball, for me, sex had always been about the physical and functional mechanics—doing things to make me and my partner feel good until we came hard. Then it was done, and on to the next thing. Not this time. Not with Honey, and maybe never again.
I brought one hand down to the back of her neck and squeezed hard. “What?” I searched her eyes, trying to read them, trying to read her. I wanted to know what she was thinking, what the words were behind that look. I especially wanted to know if they matched the thoughts and words behind the look in my own eyes.
“Nothing.” It didn’t feel like nothing. In fact, it definitely felt like a trailer-load of something, although I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what.
She closed her eyes for the first time during the encounter. I wasn’t going to get any answers at that point in time, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to give up asking the questions.
Chapter 36
Honey
I kept my eyes shut out of fear, both for what Bear might be able to read in them, but even more so, for what I might see in his.
I stayed that way for long enough to hope he’d given up watching me, but when I opened them again, he was still looking. Damn.
“You going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
“You mean apart from you and your bully friends threatening to kill me?” The spell had definitely broken.
“Nobody threatened to kill anyone.”
“Really? That’s not how I saw it, not how a court would see it, either. Probably not how you’d see it if a masked assailant put explosives around your neck and told you to stop what you were doing, or else.”
“We wouldn’t have blown you up.”
“Well, I only have your word for that, and excuse me if I don’t consider your word to be worth shit.” He was literally still inside me, but I’d rapidly gone from feeling super close to him, and able to forgive or at least understand his involvement in the collar ordeal, back to being totally bitter and angry.
It seemed there was a thin line between hate and whatever it was a I sometimes felt for Bear, and I was constantly wavering in the margins of either side. I had no idea what had been going on with me when I’d woken up. Adrenalin hangover? Some form of Stockholm Syndrome? I really didn’t understand it. I just knew that it was over, and I needed to get away.
“Well, the police and the law are clear—threatening to do something like that is as bad as actually doing it, and there were multiple threats. Ugh. I’ve wasted so much time here today. What the hell was I even thinking? I need to get the fuck out of here.” I used my arms to pull away from him on the counter, until he slid out of me, leaving me feeling empty in more ways than one. I chose not to analyze the reasons why, putting the uncomfortable emotions to the back of my mind.
“Don’t be like that. Spend the day... I mean the rest of the day with me.”
“Are you actually fucking insane? Don’t be like what? You mean like someone who has been relentlessly pursued by you and your band of merry miscreants, culminating in something that stopped just shy of assault, but which definitely constituted a death threat? I think I’m handling it all pretty well, under the circumstances. It could be much worse. I could still be a dribbling wreck like I was last night, or I could have done what any normal or sane person would, or should have done in this situation, which is call the cops.”
His warm, cedar-brown skin turned a sick-looking shade of gray.
“What? You think that’s not the most appropriate response to any of this? It is, and it’s still an option now. Obviously, I have my own reasons for not going that route so far, but that’s not necessarily a permanent state of affairs, threats or no threats.” He set his jaw, and the color started returning to his cheeks
“Did you think holding me here with no phone or comms was going to change that?” I stared him down hard, and he stared unflinchingly back. “Sure, you’re good in bed, I won’t deny that. But your dick isn’t a magic wand”—speaking of his dick, he’d been disposing of the condom and fixing himself back into his pants as I spoke—“it’s not going to make me suddenly forget what I’m doing or why, nor shake my resolve to continue, no matter how hard, or how many times you make me come. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a shower, and get on with studying, running a paper, and not fucking completely inappropriate guys.”
“Yeah, about that.”
