Chapter 9
NINE
Conrad
My wine glass was halfway to my lips when my buzzer sounded.
I frowned and walked over to my front door.
I pressed the call button, which lit up a grainy screen showing me the doorman’s face in black and white.
“Mr. Stafford.” There was something off about Vernon’s face, the lines around his mouth tense.
“You have a visitor who will only give me one name, which is against our policy and…” There was a murmur behind him, and Vernon flinched, then swallowed and spoke again. “He says to tell you that Tav is here.”
I hadn’t seen him for weeks. I had thrown myself into Soto’s attack on Devlin and was just beginning to get some of my sanity back.
I usually only thought of Tav once a day right before sleep, when my brain was too tired to fight.
That was the only time I allowed myself to descend into the madness of my all-consuming want for him.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t let Tav up and wreak havoc on my emotions.
I was exhausted from my legitimate work and that of Soto.
I wouldn’t cave to Tav. Gripping the wine glass so tightly that I nearly crushed it, I said, “Tell him I’m not available. ”
And then I shut off the screen with my heart pounding like a herd of elephants in my apartment.
The buzzer sounded again immediately. I stood in my foyer, frozen, wishing that I’d drank the whole bottle of pinot noir, so I was drunk right about now.
I thought about putting on my headphones, or blaring music, or something because that buzzing wasn’t stopping.
It was going on and on in my head, pounding, stinging, and…
I lunged at the call button. “I said—”
But it wasn’t the doorman’s face in the screen.
It was Tav’s. There was a butterfly bandage below his left eye, and a darkened area on his jaw.
His lower lip was swollen on the left side.
His eyes shone eerily in the black and white screen, one lighter than the other.
There was a voice in the background, and I assumed it was poor Vernon trying to get Tav away from the door.
I might have paid money to see my five-foot-seven-inch-tall doorman make Tav do anything.
I’d have to give him a massive tip to make up for this.
Tav stared at the camera. He couldn’t see me. The camera only went one way, so he was staring into a blinking red light right now. “Let me up,” he demanded.
My breath whistled between my teeth, and I curled my hand into a fist beside the screen and leaned closer, my gaze taking in every darkened area on his battered face.
It was on the tip of my tongue to refuse him again, to rescind the ultimatum and tell him that I changed my mind.
That this entire thing was over. But he was hurt, and I was weak.
I was so weak, because this was Tav. Big, beautiful Tav who submitted to me like a dream.
He leaned closer, so all I saw was his eyes. “Please, Con,” he whispered.
That voice, it went right through me, called to the very depths of my soul, yanking thread after thread.
My finger pressed the buzzer to approve his entry.
Immediately, I wanted to take it back, but the screen was off, Tav having disappeared the instant I’d admitted him, and I knew he was on his way up.
I swirled the wine in my glass, watching as the red liquid coated the inside, then I tossed it back in one gulp.
Minutes later when a fist pounded at my door, I was waiting. I opened the door and stepped back, granting Tav entrance into my apartment. He walked by me, smelling like leather and sweat. His hair was damp, the dark strands sticking to his forehead and neck. He needed a haircut. And a shave.
He shrugged off his leather jacket and held it in his fist. He wore a pair of sweatpants, the outline of his cock visible through the cotton. There was a sheen of sweat on his face and drops of blood on the collar of his tight T-shirt.
I crossed my arms over my chest, dangling my empty wine glass in front of me. “You look like shit.”
He snorted and shifted his weight, ducking his head.
When he lifted his gaze to look at me, there was a smirk to his lips.
The little shit. I had thrown down that ultimatum at my office, and I should have been demanding everything from him right now.
His name, his occupation, his fucking biography, and yet all I could do was think about how badly he needed to be cared for.
And that was why I abandoned my own rules and decided his well-being came first. You’re weak, the devil on my shoulder whispered.
Weak for Tav, the angel on the other shoulder whispered. Only Tav.
“Take off your shoes.” I turned on my heel and walked down the hallway leading to the bedrooms. I heard two thumps, and then the sound of Tav’s footsteps as he followed me.
Once we were in the bedroom, I held out my hand for his jacket, which he handed to me.
I hung it up in the closet and then pointed to the bathroom door.
“Shower. Towels are on the rack. Use whichever one you want.”
When I turned toward him, his gaze flicked to the bathroom and then back to me. “Shower?”
“Have you had one since whatever happened to you…” I waved a hand. “…happened to you?”
He shook his head, and a red flush colored his cheeks.
Shame? Embarrassment? Whatever, it didn’t matter.
He was here. He’d come to me in this state.
That had to mean something, that he’d be willing to give something to me.
Anything. My subconscious was a herd of wolves, fighting over whatever scrap Tav would give me.
I exhaled slowly. “So shower.”
He obeyed immediately like he always did and walked past me into the bathroom.
When I heard the shower turn on, I headed back to the kitchen.
I placed a bamboo tray on the table and set a small bowl of red grapes on it.
Then I loaded it up with two bottles of water, some baguette slices leftover from my dinner, as well as some pita chips and roasted red pepper hummus.
Content with the nutritional value of the snacks I gathered, I carried the tray into the bedroom and placed it on the nightstand.
The door to the bathroom was open, the shower still running. I pushed open the door and leaned on the counter opposite the shower, bracing myself with my fingers curled around the edge, feet crossed at the ankle.
My shower was custom-made, a tiled enclosure with two rain shower heads and clear glass.
A whirlpool tub was beside it. Tav stood in the shower with his back to me, his head down, one hand braced in front of him while the other rinsed shampoo from his hair.
I watched as the water ran down his tattooed angel, over his muscled ass, and then down his furred thighs.
He leaned his head back, letting the water hit him in the face and upper chest before turning around.
When he opened his eyes, he didn’t seem surprised to see me.
He was half-hard, his cock beginning to rise from his body.
In the bright light of the bathroom, the red and purple bruising on his torso was livid, along with a couple of large blooms on his chest. His face wasn’t as bad as I thought.
He’d been beaten up, but something told me in the way he held himself that he’d come out on top.
I’d think later that I should have asked questions then, before I let him in my shower, before I let him in my bed.
I should have made him tell me everything, so that I could have gotten out while I could.
But later, I’d also know that it was too late even then, that I was already too far gone for the mysterious Tav.
His lips curled slightly as he ran a hand down his chest, cupping his balls and then stroking his cock. I shook my head, and he smiled wider, immediately taking his hand off himself. That smile. I wasn’t sure I’d seen him smile that wide ever. He had dimples.
He smacked the shower wall, turning off the water, and stepped out. He grabbed a towel off the rack and rubbed it on his hair, then swiped his chest before tying it around his waist.
I walked toward him and ran a hand over the cut on his face. He’d removed the bandage, and the wound was seeping a little. I led him over to the toilet and pushed on his shoulders. He sat, those two-toned eyes watching my every move.
I pulled out a first aid kit and after I dabbed the area with hydrogen peroxide, I placed some antibacterial ointment on it before covering it with a bandage. I fingered the bruise on his jaw, the area on his lip which had already begun to decrease in swelling. “Do you need any ice?”
He shook his head, eyes pleading with me not to ask questions.
Against my better judgement, telling myself I’d ask later, I kept my questions to myself.
Tav
That shower had been fucking fantastic. Man, now I knew how the better half lived.
I could have stayed in that damn thing all night…
if Con would have come in with me. But he had wanted to watch, which was an odd feeling.
I hadn’t thought of my body as anything other than a weapon for years so for Con’s greedy eyes to watch me like…
like I was something he wanted, like I was something that turned him on…
well, that was a high I couldn’t remember feeling.
I hated that he saw me like this, with my face fucked up, but compared to how I’d been in the past, this was nothing.
And I’d had to see him. After the fight, I’d told myself to go back to my apartment, get some food and sleep.
But instead my feet had taken me in the direction of his place.
In the moment when I thought he was going to turn me away, I’d considered ending it all rather than go back to only being Husk.
He’d shown me Tav was still somewhere inside, and I needed it now, craved it.