Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THORNE
There’s nothing I hate more than when stress overwhelms me.
I just had the literal best sex of my life, and now I’m relegated to Leaf’s bed with my ears buzzing, my hearing mostly gone, and my eyes dancing back and forth so hard the world feels like it’s sideways.
I was supposed to be cuddling with him, maybe trading lazy hand jobs, then fixing each other lunch and making out a little more.
Not this. Not me heaving my guts up in front of him, then curling into bed like a whimpering baby. But it is what it is, and if he actually wants me, he’s going to have to accept that this comes with me. There are no cures and no real treatments.
Just hope, prayer, washcloths, and barf bags.
Luckily, this one doesn’t take me out at the knees all day long. Leaf headed out just as my world mostly stopped spinning, and I let myself sleep off the rest of the fatigue. I don’t know how long I’ve been out when I wake up, but the world is finally still.
My ears still feel stuffy, like someone put Styrofoam inside of them, and for a moment, I let myself hear it. Or, well, not hear it. No, I just experience it. The deafness. The pressing silence that will someday become my full-time reality.
Honestly, it’s not all that bad. I’m still a little afraid, but having worked so closely with Denver and realizing I can still be myself helps. Maybe not FBI agent me, but I don’t have to entirely abandon what I’m good at.
Recently, I’ve been thinking that when I turn in my badge, there’s the option of becoming a private investigator.
Most of that job is looking for cheating spouses, but considering my work on the dark web, I can definitely manage the tech.
And on the good days when I can sink my teeth into a real case, it won’t feel like I’ve lost everything I’ve worked toward.
I set that aside for the moment. It’s something to think about later when reality sets back in. For now, I can have this. I can be in this little farmhouse with Leaf and ignore the weight of my responsibilities and my future.
At least, until my boss drags me back to my desk. Which will probably be soon.
Rolling up to sit, I grab the ice pack and push myself to my feet. I wander downstairs to the kitchen and grab myself some ice-cold water, gulping it down slowly as I glance outside at the overcast skies.
I wonder where Leaf went. Wonder what Michael is doing.
I check my phone and see that Leaf has sent me a picture. It’s one of him in a class, his face slightly red and sweaty.
Leaf: Working out my abs just for you, boo.
His silly message makes me grin, moving around some boxes to go outside. But then I stop, setting my phone and cup down.
My hand flicks a cardboard box top off, and dust filters through the air in the dimming sunlight.
I peer inside and see a collection of rubber bands and staplers staring up at me.
I lean a little closer and shake my head. God, this lady really did hoard everything. I pick up a rubber band, and it disintegrates in my fingers. Wishing I had my crime scene gloves, I paw around, but most of what’s under the ancient office supplies is what looks to be repair orders and…oh.
The work order to start the barn.
Beneath that is another work order. It looks like she had wanted to put in an underground silo, but there’s not one on the property, so I can’t help but wonder if maybe it was left unfinished.
I didn’t see anything that looked like a foundation, but then again, I’m not well versed in what farm property is supposed to look like.
Shifting the box to the side, I walk around the table and find a few rubber storage containers with just as much dust as the boxes. I draw a smiley face on one, snorting before pulling the lid off, and freeze.
Old Avon perfume bottles. I pick up one, the feel and sight of it so familiar.
Suddenly, an old childhood memory hits me.
The scent of baby powder and rose on my grandma’s clothes.
I shuffle around in the box and see that there’s one bottle in the shape of a dog and one that’s in the shape of a yellow lady with a ball gown.
There’s a green one in the shape of an old oil lamp and one in the shape of a Native American wearing a headdress. No fucking wonder that was discontinued.
At least, I hoped it was discontinued.
I also have a vague memory of my grandma shopping out of a tiny catalogue for these things.
I set it aside and pull the next bin close to me. It’s heavier.
The lid doesn’t come off right away, and as I tug, I realize it’s been sealed shut. That raises my hackles a bit. What the fuck could be in here that needed to be glued down? Glancing around, I get up to try and find a knife I can dig at the seal with, when suddenly I notice movement outside.
For a moment, my heart skips around my chest. Is it Michael? Am I going to be the one to take the creature out for the man of my dreams?
But that hope is dashed. It’s only Leaf pulling into the driveway.
I let my curiosity go as I watch him get out of his car, stretching his back into a deep arch and making my mouth water. I want to bend him into a lot of shapes. A square, a circle. A yoga triangle.
He makes a face and winces, and I can’t help but smile. The ab class must have kicked his ass. He reaches into the back seat and grabs a white plastic bag before shuffling toward the front door, so I move to meet him.
“Oh…fuck!” He jumps back with his shout and presses a hand to his chest. “…you…doing!”
I feel a rise in frustration as I miss almost all of what he says. I still can’t hear for shit, and I feel a slight rise in panic because it’s taking a long time for sound to come back. Could this be it? Could it happen this fast?
I swallow thickly, and something in my ear clicks. A few more decibels of hearing return on my left side. “I didn’t catch that,” I tell him.
He looks apologetic. ‘You scared the shit out of me,’ he signs quickly, though not too fast I can’t follow. ‘What are you doing?’
“I was snooping around your house.” I sign along—most of it, anyway. I don’t know what sign to use for snooping. Four semesters under Denver and then some private tutoring have helped a lot, but it’s a living language, so I’m always playing catch-up.
Leaf just smiles. He’s clearly not annoyed by my nosiness.
It’s one more reason I probably should have doubted that he was some kind of murderous criminal.
No serial killer would let a stalker-stranger into their home without real supervision, and he’d done that several times.
I had access to so much, and he’s never been bothered.
“Any leads on Michael?” I ask as he breezes past me.
He sets the bag down and turns, shaking his head. ‘He’s MIA. I wasn’t paying attention to my phone during…’ I don’t know what the last two signs are, and I frown, so he spells, ‘ABS class.’
I grimace and step forward. I swallow again, and my ears click, revealing more sound. “That’s better.”
‘Better?’ he signs.
“My hearing wasn’t coming back as fast this time. It was making me feel a little…panicky.”
He doesn’t look at me with any judgment when he signs, ‘Sorry.’
I touch his lips, then drag my fingers down the front of his throat. “Can you say something? I want to hear you.”
He grins. “How about we go to the bedroom and you can put your hearing aids on, then I can show you how talented I am with my mouth and my hands.”
That sounds like the perfect way to start the late afternoon.
We end up getting slightly distracted, mainly because as we move through the hallway, kissing frantically, we knock into a box, and it falls to the ground, revealing a bunch of random Tupperware lids.
“God, is this where they go to die?” Leaf asks, bending down to scoop them up. He must feel my eyes on his ass because he wiggles it slightly.
“Tease,” I murmur, and Leaf cranes his neck to grin at me.
“I am, but also, I’m intrigued by the level of commitment my aunt had. What else was she hoarding? A box of socks or maybe old fruitcakes?”
I can’t help but meet his smile and bend down next to him, helping him scoop up the lids and stuff them back in the box. “We need a large trash bin.”
“We do. Or a gigantic bonfire.”
My smile slips. “That’s illegal.”
Leaf’s eyes roll, and he shoves at me slightly. “I know that, you goober.”
My brows meet in confusion. “Did you just call me a booger?”
Leaf laughs and then begins to laugh. “No. I didn’t say that. Goober.” He fingerspells it slowly so I can pick up on what he’s trying to convey. When I finally get it, I grin.
Well, that’s enough of that. I stuff the lid back on the box and pull Leaf into me. “Come on. Let’s go. I want to fuck that ass again.”
And it’s true. I want in that again. Besides lying on the bed with vertigo and an upset stomach, most of the day I spent wondering when I was going to be able to fuck him again.
I’ve been in a constant state of hard since I sat up in bed and rummaged through a few boxes downstairs.
Now, all my dreams are going to come true.
I pull him into me and kiss him roughly, feeling the moan he makes rumble through my chest. It only makes me hold on to him tighter.
“Upstairs,” I say, and Leaf nods.
“But if we find a gigantic box of lube, we’ll just fuck right here.”
I arch an eyebrow, and he shrugs. “What? I mean it. It’s convenient.”
“I’m not using a hundred-year-old lube, Leaf.”
“Why not? Doesn’t it get better with age? Or is that wine?”
I put my arm around his waist and tug, pulling him upstairs. I refuse for him to search through any more boxes, trying to find something that will work as lubricant.
We have some in the bedroom anyway. There’s no need to go scouring. We aren’t Michael.
When the door swings shut behind us, I use my momentum to propel him onto the bed. He flops down on it, and I follow him, our lips meeting as we quickly divest each other of our clothes.
When we’re both naked, we rut against each other, our bodies overheated, our skin stained with a constant flush.
“Unf. Yes,” I hear him moan as I pull his legs up over my shoulders and use his ass as a sleeve. It’s really perfect. Just the right size to drive me wild. Or maybe that’s just Leaf. The way he looks beneath me, his hair askew, his head thrown back, his eyes screwed shut.
I want them on me, so I lean forward and tap him on the chest.
His eyelids flutter open, and he meets my stare. “What?” he asks, and I lick across his lips.
“Look at me.”
His lashes flutter, and I reach over and grab the lube, wanting to enter him. Wanting to just be inside of him.
The first time was amazing, the way he felt clenching around my cock. But I think the second time might be even better. I think he’s going to make each time a memory not to be forgotten.
I wet my fingers and drag them along his crack, swirling a fingertip around his rim. His hips arch up, and I know he’s using my shoulders as leverage.
He wants this. He wants it so fucking bad.
I watch his face as I push a finger inside of him. The way his lips part, the way his Adam’s apple bobs. He loves it, being breached by me.
I push in further. He arches his hips up once more, wanting me in deeper, so I give it to him, knuckle-deep, until he’s writhing against me.
Then I add a second and scissor him open.
By the time his hole is ready for my cock, just the sight of him has me near the edge. Once I’m inside of him, I won’t last long.
I remove my fingers, then slot my hard length at his hole, asking for permission with my eyes. Leaf nods when he meets my gaze, and I push forward slowly, an inch at a time, reveling in how well he takes me. How that rim just expands until I’m bottomed out.
Leaf is holding his legs against his chest, his own cock hard against his abdomen, inviting me to touch, and I respond immediately. Reaching down, I stroke him, making him cry out loud enough that I can hear it, the desperation in his voice.
“More?” I ask, and he nods frantically.
I pull my hips back until only the tip sits just past his rim, and then I thrust into him. It’s slow at first, a rhythm that I know he can take. But then he starts to get angry, his legs pulled further back, his hips trying to meet my slow-rolling hips. I know what his body is begging me for.
I grab onto his hips, arch him up, and slam home.
I can see the bliss on his face, the absolute pleasure. I fuck him like he means something, like he’s the last thing on Earth I want to touch. Because he does. And he is.
Our bodies rock together, the slap of our skin something even my ears can hear.
And then I feel it, the clench of his ass around me, the jolt of his body as he empties himself against his skin.
I stare at it, the way his cock erupts untouched, and I follow him over, my own release pulsing into him.
Marking him.
I fall against him, my body still inside his. His legs come down around my back, his ankles hooking together, and his hands start rubbing up and down my back.
The comfort there, the care, is almost overwhelming. It’s been so long since I’ve done this with anyone, and it’s never been this intimate. Not even in my younger years when I thought I was in love.
I press my lips to his neck and just inhale him.
“So good,” I hear him. It’s faint, but it’s enough.
And he’s not wrong. It was good. I’m already a little thick at the thought of doing it again.
But instead of pushing back inside him, I roll off him and stare up at the ceiling. He does the same, our bodies trying to recuperate what little strength we have.
Our heads turn toward one another, and our eyes meet.
“I’m obsessed with you,” he says. He signs it too, just so he knows that I can see it and can understand.
I hold on to those words, tucking them inside the space behind my heart.
“Same” is all I can say, my hand moving up to sign it before falling between us.
He must know how tired and utterly wrecked I am, because instead of demanding more, he links his hand with mine, and we drift off.