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I kissed the spot where my teeth had left little divots in his skin. I was glad I hadn’t broken it, but it would undoubtedly bruise by morning. I knew I needed to apologize for being so rough with him, but I was still struggling to make sense of my actions. So putting words to them seemed like an impossible thing.
My dick was still half hard when I eased out of his body. The sight of the condom irritated me when it should've comforted me instead. The thought that Brooks would walk away from this without any proof that I'd been inside of him bothered me. The irrational thought fueled my growing tension. What the hell had I just done?
And why did I wish I could do it again?
Why did I wish more than anything that I could put myself back inside his perfect body and stay there forever? This man believed I was a killer. He thought I was capable of terrible things. It was one thing to let him believe those things, but entirely another to be intimate with him in spite of those beliefs.
The need for self-preservation kicked in and I quickly stepped away from Brooks and pulled the condom off. I turned my back on him so I could get my pants zipped up. I actually flinched when he suddenly said, "Xavier?"
I knew what he wanted, needed from me. The insecurity in his voice, in the way he'd said my name, spoke volumes. He needed me to turn around, take him in my arms, and tell him how amazing he’d been. But the only thing that came out of my mouth was, "You should go."
I knelt down and began looking through my toolbox as if I had plans to take up right where I’d left off before our encounter. But it was all for show, and what I was really doing was listening.
He didn't say anything. There was just this long silence, and then the shuffling of clothes being righted. Then footsteps. Then nothing.
Silence.
I was alone again.
Just the way I liked it.
I stood and sought out the hammer that had fallen to the ground. I told myself to get to work on another support post, but instead of moving to the next piece of lumber, I took a swing at the piece of wood where I’d just fucked everything up even more than it’d already been. I put one dent after another into the wood until my arm felt like it was going to fall off. Ironically, the post stayed in place.
So I was a decent carpenter.
I just sucked as a human being.
Chapter 9
Brooks
What had I done?
What the fuck had I just done?
As I made my way along the narrow trail that led to the main part of the property, I barely even noticed the sounds of the night forest coming alive around me. Realizing that I'd gotten lost in woods like these just a few days earlier didn't even cross my mind. I was too consumed with the fact that I’d just let the man who’d tried to kill my father fuck me against a piece of wood… and I’d craved every second of it.
I could still feel the results of that craving running down my belly and sticking to my sweats.
Not to mention my ass hurt like hell.
It hurt, but it also felt empty. It was insanity.
He dismissed me.
That fact hurt a thousand times more. The tingling in my blood that was a result of the intense orgasm I'd had was now nothing more than a cruel reminder of what I'd just let happen.
My intent had been to confront Xavier, to force him to admit he’d left the house because of me because I'd embarrassed him.
I hadn't been lying when I’d said Uncle Curtis was heartbroken that Xavier had chosen to live in the dilapidated foreman's house, but I’d left out the fact that I'd been equally upset. I’d tried to convince myself that I just felt guilty, but now I had no choice but to call foul on that.
I’d wanted to see him. It was as simple as that. As I’d worked the past several days on Uncle Curtis's finances, I'd been listening for that front door to open. Not so I could confront Xavier in any kind of way, but so that I could know he was safe. I'd also had a lot of questions but hadn't intended to ask any of them. He’d done exactly what I’d wanted… he’d left the house. Uncle Curtis had been safe from him. And if anything, the night he’d attacked me when I'd woken him up from his nightmare had been just more proof that Uncle Curtis needed protecting from Xavier.
But I couldn't get past the fact that Xavier had been nothing more than a child when he’d been sent to an adult prison. I wasn't sure why I'd never considered that. The idea of the patient, gentle-handed young man I’d known being thrown in among the worst humanity had to offer made me violently ill. He’d needed to be punished for his crime, but not like that.
