His rhythm gets faster. “Say you love me.”
“I love you,” I repeat it mindlessly. Electricity travels through my body as it coils. Every nerve feels awake.
Then I’m coming all over my chest, clutching the fabric tighter. Nicholas lets my oversensitive dick go and jerks himself off on me until he releases on my chest too.
Before I can say anything, his mouth descends on mine, claiming me in a frenzy.
“God, I'm so conflicted,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Why?” I ask.
“If the makeup is going to be like that, do we need to fight more often?”
I smack the side of his head playfully and guide him down until his head rests on my chest. I let his weight drown me for as long as I can take it.
He shifts slightly on the couch, taking some of his weight off me after a while. I breathe in his scent, letting it wash over me. Savoring it while I comb my fingers over his hairslowly.“Nicholas?”
“Yeah,” he says, sounding drowsy.
“If we don't find the killer..." I start.
He rests his chin on my chest to look up at me. His gaze overwhelms me, but I need to get this out. He needs to know what to expect.
“If we can't find the killer before the new team takes over the case, Sam and I will have to flee.”
“No”
“Nicholas, it’s our only op—”
“Just no.” He plants his hands caging my head, his blue eyes capturing mine. “You’re not leaving me. I’m not letting it get to that.”
I sigh. “I don’t want to leave you, you know?”
“Then why do we even have to talk about this? I’ll find the killer, and you’ll stay right here. With me. Okay?”
I nod. Because I want to believe him. So badly that I’m willing to be delusional. We’ll find the killer.
He nods back. “Will you tell me about your past? Please?”
Every part of me screams to pull away, but I fight the instinct to shut down again. I can’t hide behind my excuses anymore. I asked him to trust me. Screamed it, really. God, these people are making me dramatic. But now, I need to show him I trust him too. “It’s more of a dressed-up conversation.”
Nicholas laughs. He gets up from the couch and gives me a hand. Good thing, because my legs are still jelly.
A quick cleanup later, we sit side by side on the couch. I look straight ahead. There’s no way I’d be able to get the words out if I look at his face and find sympathy, or worse, pity. “I was five when I found Raymond Booth’s claws buried in my neighbor’s heart.”
I ignore Nicholas’s surprised gasp.
“He caught me. Of course, he did. Not much escapes werewolves' senses. I learned that the hard way.” I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “I told everyone. My parents, the police,everyone. And no one would believe me. Like he knewall along. That’s why he didn’t even try to stop me.” My eyes sting. I swallow to keep going.
Nicholas gently places his hand over mine on my thigh. But doesn’t interrupt me.
“But from then on, he made it his life’s mission to break me. Piece by piece. It started with the murder of my best friend. He made me believe I could save him. That I had power. Then he stabbed him just like Ms. Chelsea. He would listen to my conversation with my parents to find his next target. Everyone I mentioned, even in passing, was fair game. Every time, he’d make me watch. Make me plead. Every time, he’d bury his claws into them right in front of me.” Tears start to flow then. I don’t stop them. This is already pathetic enough.
Nicholas slides closer to me. His warmth grounds me, reminds me I’m safe. Nothing can ever harm me because he’s here.
I continue before I lose my nerve. “He killed nine people while I stood there crying. Helpless to do anything. I was useless, and they paid the price with their lives. It—”
“Baby, you were a kid,” Nicholas whispers. Then I’m wrapped in the cocoon of his warmth, my head rests against his chest. “You were just a little kid. He was a pathetic excuse for a human being. The adults around you should have done better. But baby you— you were just a kid.”
