Page 48 of Fatal Fantasy

Before Tyson can react, I slip between the curtain and the wall, staring straight at the shower head while the steam from the hot water fills the small space.

Tyson follows suit, the scraping of metal hooks against the pole stuck to the wall clueing me into his presence but I don’t break my trance, willing myself to take one step at a time.

Even if it kills me, I think to myself, forcing my feet to shuffle against the tiled floor, my eyes fluttering shut as the splash begins to ricochet off my body.

Tyson wraps his arms around my waist, a slight gesture to remind me that he’s here, and I take the last steps until the spray covers my eyes, nose and mouth.

The first few moments are dedicated to reacclimating myself to this basic human need, remembering how it feels to have warm water stealing my breath, versus the ice cold sensation I was forced to endure as a form of torture.

It’s comparable to a tight hug, the homely feeling bringing a sense of calm, but at the same time, the water begins to pool on my face, and although I stay firmly in place on purpose, it’s starting to resemble something I wasn’t able to escape.

“You’re doing amazing, baby girl. Spin around, take a breath, and get your hair wet,” Tyson instructs, but I don’t move, allowing the feeling of drowning to take center stage, fighting against every urge I possess that’s willing me to back down.

A blood-curdling scream erupts from my chest, but it’s not from fear, or a desperate plea to be saved, it’s pure vindication escaping the confines of its former imprisonment, proving that I am the sole source of power in my own body.

Finally, after what feels like hours, I spin around, wiping the pooled water from my eyes, only to open them and find Tyson smiling back at me, tears falling down his cheeks.

“What is it?” I ask, cupping his face with my hands, but he continues to smile, an infectious energy radiating from his body.

“You, Carter. You’re fucking incredible. If I had as much courage as you, I’d have been walking the first week coming out of that coma,” he chokes out, the emotion completely overtaking his usual calm, collected, and cool demeanor.

“I’m not a superhero. It took a lot of humbling moments to realize that I belong down here on Earth, just like the rest of humanity. I may have been cut from a different, darker cloth, but I’m susceptible to all the same emotions as every other person,” I tell him, snuggling against his chest until his arms envelop me into a sense of safety, allowing him to walk us under the spray of the water, my body only slightly flinching as he shields me from the worst of it.

“You’re my superhero, baby girl. Can I start your routine?” He rakes his fingers through my knotted curls, the tangles pulling my head in different directions but I know how bad it’s gotten, and welcome his persistence.

“There’s no way you still remember it after all this time. I barely do,” I counter, reaching for the name-brand shampoo on the shelf, a small smirk breaking my fearless attitude because he absolutely got every product correct, down to the oils.

Of course I knew he paid attention, but to recognize the brands, scents, and kinds for specific hair types, after such a long separation, is a new breed of dedication, something that is exactly Tyson’s bread and butter.

“Let me do your hair, Carter. Please?” He begs, his voice cracking as the final word leaves his lips, and I immediately fold, giving him the trust and control needed to work my way through the last phase of this traumatizing, yet healing, event.

“Okay,” I say softly, giving him the chance to take over and feeling like I’ve finally escaped the life I thought I was going to be trapped in.

Breathing feels like breathing again, so much so that when the mountain air infiltrates my lungs, I release all the bad I’ve endured on the next exhale, granting me a start that truly feels fresh.

“Are you okay?” Tyson continuously checks in, but I drop my hand from his neck, staring into his eyes while I wrap my fingers around his hard cock, redirecting his focus elsewhere.

Continuously talking about my trauma is exhausting, and instead of harping on what was, I’m locking into my men as a home remedy, forgoing any professional advice and heading straight for the antidote.

“I’m right where I need to be,” I breathe, stroking him at a rhythmic pace while he stares into my eyes, a fierce fire overtaking his irises, until he breaks, a moment that I’d never imagined in my wildest dreams.

“We need to dry your hair, baby girl,” he whispers, pressing me against the wall with a little force, his voice cracking as if what he’s saying is killing him, but he doesn’t make another move.

This predicament is confusing because not only did I face my fear with his motivation, I’m actively pursuing him, making an advance to let him know I’m ready for more than a few kisses, but he either doesn’t see it, or worse, isn’t interested.

“You don’t want me anymore?” I ask, my voice breaking as the most pathetic words leave my lips, but in the spirit of vulnerability and honesty, I let them loose.

“Oh god, Carter, that’s not it. Obviously, I’m still very much attracted to you,” he says, pausing while gesturing to his still very hard cock in my hands, “but this rush of adrenaline you’re feeling is temporary, and I don’t want you to move too fast and regret it.”

“I’d never regret anything with you or Jasper. I’m of sound, mind, and body, fully capable of making choices that I believe in,” I argue, but he reaches behind me, shutting the water off and stepping out of the tub silently.

I’m completely dumbfounded, wondering what I possibly could’ve done differently, but he immediately returns with two towels, gently wrapping one around my body, and the other in my hair, leading me out of the shower carefully.

Before I can even breathe my frustrations out loud, he lifts me until I land on the countertop, my legs instinctually wrapping around his waist, and when I glance up at him to try to get a read on what he’s thinking, he takes me by surprise, pressing his lips to mine.

Instantly, he snakes his palm around my throat, holding me in place while thrashing his tongue against mine, a roughness in this kiss that I don’t normally get from him, but I lean into it, completely trembling as he dominates every part of my body.

“Don’t you ever think I’m not attracted to you, or that I don’t want you, because if I didn’t love you so much, I’d push your face into that mirror and make you watch as I fuck you so hard, the only thing you remember is your name.” He roughly nips at my lower lip, breaking us apart as he rakes his gaze over my body, the towel exposing my chest as it rests in my lap.