Chapter Twelve
Shai
That was hands down the best orgasm of my life.
When Rory suggested his little game of hunting, I wasn’t sure what to think.
It was intriguing in theory, but I didn’t know how it would translate in practice.
Chasing him was…exciting, got all my senses involved—smelling his cologne, what I can only describe as an almost amber scent but deeper, with notes of vanilla; holding my breath, listening for any sound he might make.
The whole fucking thing was a rush, and I’m definitely on board with us doing it again.
“What should I do with the condom?”
“Eat it?” he replies flippantly.
“You’re such a dick.”
“Well, what do you want me to tell you? Throw the fucker away.”
“Where’s the trash?”
Rory bends down, pulls his phone from his pocket, and presses something. The lights come on.
“You know it’s ridiculous to have an app to do that, right?”
He shrugs. “It is what it is. I’m gonna go clean my ass. I’ll be right back.” Rory pulls his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off, then disappears down the hallway.
I get rid of the condom, then wet some paper towels, wash off my groin, and get dressed.
Is he doing okay in there? I did my best to be careful with him, knowing it was his first time. I can’t figure out what the hell to think about Rory, but I don’t want to have hurt him. I don’t want to be the source of sexual trauma.
I pace the kitchen that’s the size of half our trailer, until a few minutes later, when I smell the scent of a vape pen and hear his footsteps as he comes into the room.
“Want some?” He holds it out for me.
“Sure.” I take it, our fingers brushing, and damned if I don’t feel an unfamiliar tingle where our skin met.
What the fuck was that?
“Um…are you good?” I ask Rory.
He frowns. “Why the fuck would you ask me that? I just jizzed my brains out of my dick.”
I roll my eyes. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t go too hard or hurt you.”
“Pet…it would take a whole lot more than that to hurt me. My ass is fine, but I appreciate the concern. It’s weird, but…nice or something.” He walks away, heading straight for the pantry door. “I’m fucking starving. Are you hungry? Let’s eat. I swear I feel like I could eat this whole house.”
There he goes, bouncing around topics again. He doesn’t like to talk about anything serious, and I can’t say I blame him. It’s not my favorite thing either, but it feels worse when Rory does it. Why did he act so surprised that I would worry about hurting him?
“I could eat.”
“Bet. Let’s make breakfast. I fucking love breakfast. Your mom made it for me.” He winks, and I give him the finger. I know he’s just trying to get under my skin.
Still, I say, “If I’m fucking you, you don’t get to fuck her.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” He tries to walk toward the fridge, but my arm shoots out, hand wrapping around his bicep.
“I’m not kidding, Cherry. I don’t care if I owe you money or not.
I’m not sticking my dick in you if you plan on putting yours in her.
” There’s no doubt in my mind she would do it.
And whatever, I don’t care if she fucks the whole state of Massachusetts.
I’m down for her getting hers, but I’m not sharing him with her.
His gaze zeroes in on my hand, then back to my face. “I would probably let go of my arm if I were you.”
I relax my hold, before letting go altogether. “Don’t do it.”
“I’m not going to fuck your mom, pet. I just want this.” He palms my dick, and damned if I don’t whimper.
He massages my cock through my jeans, and I do my best to concentrate on this conversation rather than how good it feels. “No one,” I manage to get out.
Rory stops. “No one what?”
“You don’t fuck anyone while we’re doing this.
When you’re done, you can sleep with whoever you want, but until then, you’re mine.
” I have no idea why I’m saying this, why I even care what Rory does with his body, but the truth is…
I want him. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here, regardless of what I owe him.
“If Cillian and Ollie want to play with me, I will never turn them down. I don’t care who I’m screwing.”
There’s something between them I clearly don’t understand, but I don’t have to.
I can see it, feel it, hear it when Rory talks about them, and no matter what we’re doing, I don’t want to deny him that.
I’ve never had that kind of connection with anyone.
Why would I want to deprive him of it? “They’re safe? ”
“They’re negative, and they’re exclusive—me being the only exception, and I’m negative too. I’m tested monthly, always go in wrapped, and you’re the only person who’s ever been inside me. I was last checked a week ago.”
Heat flushes down my skin hearing him say I’m the only one who’s ever been inside him. Fucking him. I’m the one who gets to fuck him, pleasure him, hunt and take control of him. There’s something incredibly addicting about that.
I nod. Okay. I have no idea what any of this means or why it’s going down the way it is, but I feel better knowing the parameters.
“Does my pet want me all to himself?”
“No. Just doing my due diligence. You should try it sometime.”
“I just told you I get checked monthly and always wear a rubber. I’m like a fucking saint.”
I laugh. He’s got a point. “I’m negative too. I haven’t been with anyone but you since we moved here, and I’ve been checked.”
“Good. Now can we fucking eat before I shrivel up and die?”
“God, you’re dramatic.”
“Yeah, well, get used to it.”
We make bacon, eggs, and toast. I wonder if all this food was sitting in the house, or he went and got it for this weird-ass game we’re playing.
Rory rambles nonstop while we’re cooking. Half the time, I have no idea what he’s on about, and he switches topics every other second, but it’s fun listening to him. I never know what’ll come out of his mouth next.
When the food is ready, Rory grabs a box of Golden Grahams from the pantry and milk. We sit down at the small kitchen table, a mountain of food between us.
“I love cereal,” Rory says.
“You love food, from what I’m seeing. Where do you put it all?”
He shrugs, taking a bite of eggs. “So, you’re into music?”
His question surprises me, but then I remember he’s been watching me—and had listened to me play—so there are probably a lot of things he knows about me.
“Yeah. Mostly guitar. Piano would be my second favorite, but I don’t have one.
I think my brain functions on music. I’m self-taught, can pick up any instrument and play. ”
“Cil plays piano. He stopped for years but started again because of Bunny.”
Yeah, Ollie told me he played. I don’t know why Rory’s sharing this with me. Are we supposed to be bonding now? Becoming friends?
“What about you?” I ask. “What do you like?” Frankly, I don’t care about Cillian—as long as he doesn’t hurt Ollie—but the man before me is an enigma, and I can’t stop myself from wanting to know more about him.
“I’m not musically inclined. I’m good at fighting and fucking, which you saw. I don’t like long walks on the beach. I do enjoy a little stalking, I suppose, following people, shit like that.”
“Yeah, I’ve been on the receiving end of it.”
“And look where we are now! I think that says just as much about you as it does me. You think I’m wild, but you like it.”
I could deny it, but there’s no point. We both know it would be a lie. “Yes,” I reply.
“And you like holding people at gunpoint and stealing from them.”
“You unlocked that new pleasure in me.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot. It’s not as fun without me. None of the others compare.”
I roll my eyes, but he’s right.
“We’ll do something together sometime. Just for fun.”
A smarter man, a better man, would tell him no, but I don’t. Because when Rory joined me in the fight at the bar the other night, I had fun. “Okay.”
He grins, and I do the same.
“What else?” I ask him.
“What else what?”
“Do you like?”
“Food. Oh, and video games and horror movies.”
“I love horror movies.”
His eyes widen with a different kind of excitement than I usually see from him. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
“I think we’ll get along just fine, pet.”
I wait for the nickname to rub me the wrong way, try to be annoyed, but I’m not.
I was in the beginning, but maybe that was partly because I thought I should be.
This whole situation between us is exactly what I need, something that’s mine in a world where I’ve spent most of my life worrying about others—or one other person, that is.
And though this won’t last, though I don’t want it to or trust it to, I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it while I can.
“Wanna watch something before I take you back?” Rory asks.
“Yeah, sure. Let’s do it.”
I have to try hard not to smile, but I don’t let myself think too much about it.