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I kiss him, lingering soft and gentle with my mouth against his. Something has shifted between us after everything that happened tonight, like something finally slotting into place. It makes everything else feel sharper and more intense.
We’ve kissed plenty of times, but doing it now feels like coming home.
“Come on,” I say, tugging him up the stairs after me.
He moves slowly, wincing from time to time when his wounds protest the movement, but he doesn’t stop. We get to his bedroom, and I help him strip out of his clothes carefully.
Without them, it’s clear to see just what Julian did to him. There are cuts up and down his arms, bleeding sluggishly, and bruises on his face and chest where Julian hit him, starting to bloom in different colors.
His clothes are crusted with blood and sweat, and I toss them to the floor and kick them to one side.
Luckily, none of his cuts are big enough to require stitches. Julian was going for maximum pain, but he wasn’t trying to kill him or make him bleed out while he tortured him.
“Get in the shower,” I tell Priest. “I’ll be there in a second.”
He does as I say, stepping into the bathroom. A second later, I hear the water turn on and he lets out a low hiss, probably when the hot water hits some of those cuts.
I quickly strip out of my own clothes, letting the remains of my dress fall to the floor, then I hurry to join him in the shower.
He watches me as I approach, not saying anything. I step into the spray with him, and the water runs red as it rushes down to swirl around the drain.
Priest’s eyes are intent, seeing everything the way they always have, but there’s nothing I don’t like about that now. It’s not the same way he used to look at me, like he was trying to see through me and find something, anything, that would give him a reason to make good on his threats to kill me.
Now he’s just... looking.
Because he wants to.
Because he likes what he sees.
We stand there in silence for a bit, just letting the shower water take away some of the aches and pains of the fight we were in tonight.
Priest is the most banged up for sure, but I can feel the aftermath of my fight with Julian as I stand there. There’s an ache in my neck where he tried to strangle me, and I have bruises on my body from where we slammed each other into the concrete floor.
That tiredness is even more apparent with the heat of the shower soaking into my muscles and bones, but I keep myself from giving in to it just yet.
After a few moments of silence, Priest speaks up.
“I’ve been wanting to do that with you for so long,” he says, his voice soft. “I was afraid, and that was holding me back. But in that warehouse, watching you fight Julian and not being able to help you…” He shakes his head, shuddering a little as if the very thought of it is horrible to him. “I had so much regret that I let fear hold me back from doing the things I wanted to do. From showing you how I feel about you.”
“There’s nothing to regret,” I tell him, my throat going tight. “Even if… if things had gone differently with Julian, and we’d never gotten a chance for anything more, I already knew how you felt about me. Iknow. You show me every day, in so many little ways.”
Priest blinks, as if he’s surprised by my words. I think sometimes he still sees himself as cold and closed-off, the unreadable man of ice. But the truth is, that’s not who he is anymore. He’s still outwardly less expressive than the other men, and that will probably never change. But in bits and pieces, in small moments and little gestures, he’s let me see who he is.
And even though I’ve been dying for him to fuck me, dying to feel that connection with him, it’s not because I didn’t know how he felt about me.
I just… wanted him.
I still do.
Resting my hands lightly on his chest, I tilt my head up, going up onto my toes a little as I find his lips with my own.
The kiss deepens, and we both lean into it, giving it all we’ve got.
He’s hurt, and I don’t want to make it worse, so I try to pull away from him. But he won’t let me. He wraps his arms around me, keeping me close.
“I need you, River,” he murmurs, and I can hear the truth of it ringing in his words. “I need you so fucking much.”
My body responds to that immediately, humming with the same desire. We just fucked in that warehouse, but that was different. That was desperation and fear driving us to prove to each other that we were still alive and okay.
