Page 77 of Storm Caller

“Where were we?” he asks, peppering more kisses down the column of my throat and across my collarbone, his hand sliding against my hip and between my thighs.

I sink against him as he presses the heel of his hand into me, gasping as I try to find my breath, which is lost somewhere around my ankles.

“Rook,” I moan as he captures my mouth and slowly pulls on the drawstring of my pants.

“I think you said you needed a shower?” he asks with a smirk.

“Journey said that, not me.”

“She’s very smart. We should listen to her.”

He takes me by the wrist and drags me across the room. My heart, so heavy an hour ago, is now light enough that my feet feel like they barely touch the floor.

We turn on the water and frantically undress each other until we’re bare. I take in the sight of him—his smooth skin and the tiny scars that map the life he’s lived.

He picks me up and carries me under the stream before he soaps up the mesh sponge I keep hanging from the tap, then gently cleans me from head to toe. It’s reverent and intimate, and I’ve never felt closer to anyone in my life.

When we’re finished, he wraps us in a towel and brings us to bed. He’s so warm and solid. He smells like safety and comfort.

Meeting Rook taught me that I’m allowed to ask for those things.

We kiss as we move together in a slow, careful dance. I moan as he explores my body, making my back arch and my toes twitch. Slowly, he shifts his hips, and I cling to him while he places kisses on my throat and chest. My cheeks. My forehead and then my mouth.

The sound of his soft breaths heats me from the inside out while he slowly takes me to the edge. We come together with shuddered moans and fingers digging into flesh. It’s sparkling and breathless, like floating through clouds.

This is nothing like that night with Knox.

I wanted to forget him, and, as I suspected, Rook washes away every past touch as I glow with the knowledge that he loves me and I love him.

No matter what happens, we have each other.

Things are about to change drastically yet again.

I survived the first hurdle, but we still have a job to do.

Now comes the truly hard part.

26

The next morning, Rook insists we head upstairs to the cafeteria for breakfast.

“I was planning to hide out here,” I say, covering my head with the pillow and praying he won’t make me leave our safe little bubble.

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. Until I’m ninety.”

He snorts and tugs on the blanket. We stayed up late, finishing what we started, and though I’m being petulant right now, I’m also glowing from the inside out. I snatch the edge of the sheet to stop him from exposing me to the cold air. “Don’t you dare. I will drop-kick you into Tuesday.”

“You’re so cute when you threaten bodily harm.”

I glare up at him, noting the cut on his brow. He told me the Patrol locked him up for a few nights after the Extinguishers arrested me. They roughed him up a little, but they had no true reason to hold him, so he was released with a few new scratches and bruises. I think of the promise I extracted from my father and realize I might have him to thank for that.

“You think you’re so tough,” I say, and he grins before leaning down, pressing his big body against mine, and pushing back a lock of my hair.

“What are you afraid of?”

I shrug. “I’m tired of being judged by them. I was already one of their favorite sources of gossip, but now with this whole trial thing, they have so much more ammunition.”