Chapter 38 #2
We lock eyes, and that’s what does it. His jaw goes slack, his abs clench, and his hand tightens in my hair.
He comes all over my neck and chest in a way that is frankly territorial.
He sways slightly on his knees, and I press my palm flat against his stomach to steady him. His muscles are still twitching under my hand.
“Holy fuck, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is,” he pants, staring down at the mess he’s left behind.
“Why not?” I ask. “It’s much better than other ways animals mark their territory in the animal kingdom.”
He laughs his deep Leo laugh and collapses beside me, pulling me to him so the stickiness on my chest becomes a shared problem, which feels about right for us.
“We’re going to have to leave such a big tip for the hotel staff,” I say, eyeing the destroyed bed around us, and he chuckles again.
It’s like after our first time together. He just can’t seem to stop touching me, running his hands along my arms, my ribs, the curve of my hip.
I touch him back, tracing the lines of his collarbone and the ridge of muscle across his shoulders. My fingers find the hollow at the base of his throat where his pulse beats steady and slow, and I press my lips there because I can. Because he’s here and I’m here, and how incredible is that?
We lie there holding each other until the stickiness goes from romantic to uncomfortable.
“Shower?” I suggest.
“Shower,” he agrees.
Of course washing each other in the shower leads to kissing, which leads to his hand wrapped around both of our cocks.
This time it’s more gentle, less urgent. We’ve burned through the desperation and hunger from being apart, and what’s left is something slower and sweeter.
The water makes everything soft and slippery and unhurried. We’re not chasing anything. We’re just…here. Which sounds simple, but for two people who’ve spent months running from this, it’s the best kind of simple.
When we finally make it back to bed, damp and sated, he tucks me against his broad chest. I press my face into the curve of his neck, where his skin is still warm from the shower.
His arm is heavy across my waist. I can feel his heartbeat against my shoulder, steady, solid, real.
The kind of heartbeat that says I’m not going anywhere.
I thought I’d lost this forever.
And that thought causes a tiny nugget of anger to rise up inside me.
“At some point, we need to talk about the fact that you thought you knew what was best for me and made a decision without consulting me,” I say, raising my face to look at him. “That’s not okay.”
Leo pauses. His thumb stops its slow circle on my hip. “I thought the most important thing was that you repair your relationship with your brother.”
“You thought that was more important than what we had together?” I can’t hide the hurt in my voice.
“I tried to tell you how I felt about you, but you weren’t ready to hear it,” Leo says, the muscles in his throat working.
“I thought… I thought you wouldn’t ever be able to love me back the way I loved you if you had the wound inside you that Vaughn had caused,” he continues. “And I thought that you wouldn’t be able to repair your relationship with your brother if I were around. I just want what is best for you.”
I lie there, replaying Leo’s words in my head, examining them from all angles.
I can’t deny that I retreated any time Leo showed signs of wanting more. I’d been so conditioned by Vaughn’s rejection—by the slow, grinding lesson that loving someone fully only gives them more of you to find unbearable—that I’d treated Leo’s deepening feelings as a countdown to him leaving.
“You might have been right in this instance,” I finally concede. “But going forward, I need to know you won’t make any decisions you believe are in my best interest without talking it through with me first.”
He strokes the side of my face. “Oh, trust me, Archie, I’m never making a decision about your happiness without you again.”
“And I might not have been ready to hear how you felt about me before, but I am now,” I say. “In fact, feel free to tell me as many times as you like.”
Leo reaches out to thread his fingers through mine.
“‘I love you’ doesn’t feel strong enough,” he says quietly. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel this way about someone.”
He nuzzles into my neck.
“I love the playful Archie, but I also love the serious Archie. And I love everything in between.”
I blink hard. Several times. There appears to be a situation developing with my tear ducts that I’m going to attribute to dust and absolutely nothing else.
“Okay, those are good words,” I manage to say.
“I aim to please,” he says. “Although I’m still struggling to get my head around the fact that you knew the truth about your accident the whole time. I was plagued by guilt over it.”
I can’t keep a small grin from sneaking onto my face. “You were so committed to making it up to me that it seemed rude to stop you. Do you know how hard it is to find a man who’ll voluntarily dress as a mermaid?”
He huffs out a laugh.
“We’re like that painting of Lady Grey,” I say. “The details might have been false, but the emotional truth of us isn’t.”
“I’m not sure if comparing our relationship to an unfairly executed seventeen-year-old is the most romantic analogy possible,” he replies.
“It totally fits,” I argue. “Don’t forget the painting was found by accident while someone was looking for something else.”
A smile crosses his face.
“You’re right. I was looking for revenge and found something better than I ever imagined.”
“Meanwhile, I discovered that being drenched in maple syrup and breaking my ankle can have a remarkable silver lining. It’s fair to say we both learned things in this whole experience.”
Leo laughs. Then he pulls me closer, pressing his lips against my hair, and I feel his smile against my skin.