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Kissing is only kissing after all. I’ve kissed many women. That spark, that jolt of electricity had everything to do with where my mind went during meditation. It had nothing to do with her personally. At least that’s what I’ve been trying to convince myself of since it happened.
“You need to get laid,” Ugly says.
My eyes snap back in his direction. “I am not going to fuck Slick,” I tell him, but that feels like another lie.
“I’m not saying fuck Slick,” Ugly says, his brow drawing close together.
I point down to my residual limb, the proverbial elephant in the room that we haven’t spoken about yet. “Not many women around that would be interested in me now,” I explain.
He scoffs as if my words are ridiculous. “You’d be surprised.”
I scrunch my nose up in disgust. “I wouldn’t be interested in any woman who has an amputee fetish.”
Ugly frowns. “A woman doesn’t have to have an amputee fetish to be attracted to you, dude. Then maybe Slick is your only option,” Ugly suggests, his eyes locked on mine.
I do my best not to flinch or clench my hand. “Not only would that ruin our professional relationship,” I say. “I have no doubt that Slick isn’t interested either.”
Ugly shakes his head as if he doesn’t believe me. As if he has some inside information into Slick’s psyche that would make him think differently. He has no idea how fast she bolted off of my lap, earlier when he called. The woman couldn’t get away from me fast enough, and other than small talk, she hasn’t said much to me since it happened.
Ugly doesn’t continue to argue and I’m grateful for the reprieve. I sip my water as he finishes his beer. He’s standing from the recliner, empty beer bottle in hand, when Slick comes back in from her workout.
“I guess I’m gonna head back,” he says as Slick walks into the living room.
“Stay,” she says. “You don’t have to leave.”
Ugly looks between the two of us. “I think Aro needs a nap.”
I have to laugh. I’m not a man who takes naps, but honestly the thought of getting one right now, sounds like the perfect idea. I get so tired so easily these days, and I hate my body’s inability to keep up with my mind. I know things are going to be awkward being here alone with Slick, but things are also awkward with Ugly.
Ugly waves me off when I try to stand to tell him goodbye. “We’ll chat soon,” he says, and it sounds more like a warning than anything else.
Slick follows him out of the living room and onto the front porch. Because I want to avoid whatever awkwardness may come from being alone with her, I stand from the couch and make my way toward my bedroom. I close my bedroom door in time to hear the front door close and Ugly’s motorcycle roar to life.
Chapter 15
Slick
Historically, Aro would go out of his way to watch me. When he wasn’t avoiding the chance that I’d analyze his actions, he’d even joke with me. Always when he was in a group, and never when he was alone.
For the longest time, I wondered if he was putting on a performance for the other Cerberus members because he’d dart away the second he realized we were alone together.
Now, as his lips move over mine, I’m wondering if he escaped my company because he was trying to avoid the temptation of doing this.
The kiss slows, growing softer as his breathing decelerates. He had another panic attack while attempting to meditate. What is supposed to be a calming, relaxing exercise has turned into the trigger for his PTSD. I shouldn’t be obliging him in this way. I shouldn’t be feeding that part of him that calms the hysterics when they start. We should be focusing on getting to the root of the problem rather than triggering it.
I’m being selfish, using his trauma to gain access to him in this way.
It’s despicable and could possibly be considered medical misconduct since Kincaid has me here with him on official business.
I can’t stop myself. The kisses, his hands on my hips, are that damn good.
I pull back, my breaths coming out in choppy bursts. He licks at his lips, his eyes locked on mine, and it sends a tingle of awareness and anticipation through my entire body. When I shiver from the sensation, a slow smile curls up the corners of his mouth.
He looks a little drunk, a little lost, as if he isn’t operating on a normal plane of existence. To be honest, I feel exactly the same way. It’s as if we’re in this perfect bubble, despite what got us to this point.
“I like kissing you,” I confess before I can think twice about my words.
