TRUSTWORK
Sara
We stay tangled, listening to our hearts calm down. He remains close, resting some of his weight against me while one hand gently traces random shapes on my side as if he’s soothing both of us without needing to say a word.
Eventually, he lifts his head, brushing a kiss to my temple before slowly easing out of me. I wince, and he mumbles something I don’t quite catch. Could be sorry, or you’re okay.
I shift slightly, my skin catching against his. The heat, the sweat, the evidence of what happened between us are smeared across our bodies. I bite my lip, hesitant. “Um... I think we’re kind of... sticky,” I say as though admitting a scandalous secret. “We probably need another shower.”
Chris chuckles. “Yeah, probably. We got a little carried away, huh?”
I huff out a smile, unable to focus on anything but the dip of his navel.
He stands first, reaching for me with both hands, and I let him pull me upright. I’m sore, not painfully so, but enough to be aware of it.
This time, showering together is different. The urgency is gone.
By the time we’re toweling off, I’m cleaner in more ways than one. What cracked open in me didn’t destroy anything. It let a sense of belonging take root.
He pulls me out of my thoughts with the promise of food, then heads downstairs. I tell him I’ll follow soon after he kisses the top of my head, pulls on his boxers, and gives me a moment to myself.
We never really dried off after the first shower, too wrapped up in each other to care.
On the bed, I spot a smear of red. My breath catches.
It shouldn’t be a shock. I knew this could happen, but seeing it makes everything more real.
My first time. The way he held me. How careful he was.
And now this small mark symbolizing the change in me, in us.
I can’t really explain it or predict what comes next, but I know what I felt, and I know I’ll never forget it.
◆◆◆
“You like?” Chris asks as I take in the coffee table covered in finger foods and the TV playing the pre-game show.
“I love,” I reply in awe.
The armchair stays empty and the conversation is light until a thought pushes in. The words slip out before I can stop them, and why should I? They’re fair. “Do you think Cash will be upset?”
He blinks. “Upset?”
“Or disappointed. That we... you know.” I flick my finger back and forth between us.
He pauses with a piece of celery halfway to his lips, then turns toward me. “Sara. No. God, no.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” He takes a bite, chews, then swallows before continuing. “There’s never been jealousy between us. That’s not how we’re built.”
I’m not convinced.
“He’ll probably high-five both of us,” he adds with a smirk, “then ask if you want pancakes in the morning. Not that he’d ever make them himself.”
My shoulders slump, and my hand stops reaching for food.
“It’s about trust. Always has been. We’re in this for more than possession. If you’re happy, I’m happy. If Cash makes you smile, I’m happy about that too. Same for him.”
I let the words sink in. They make sense in a strange way, but another question is already rising. “Why are you snipped?” I’m not sure if I’m even allowed to ask, but the question won’t let go. He doesn’t look older than thirty. It’s unusual to have the procedure done so young.
He inhales deeply, sinking further into the cushions. “In the Navy we were in a special ops unit. They didn’t want distractions, attachments, accidents.”
A frown tugs at my lips.
“They made permanent contraception mandatory. Vasectomies. Everyone got one.”
My eyes widen. “That’s... extreme.”
He shrugs. “That was the job.”
“And you were okay with it?”
“Back then? Yeah. It was what it was. I didn’t think too far ahead. Even now, with the life I live, kids aren’t exactly a good idea in my world.”
Some of the tension eases out of me, and I nod. I don’t want to think about children right now either.
After we finish eating, he pulls me closer and kisses my temple. “This day was... incredible.”
I agree as a strange, fuzzy feeling settles inside me.
We curl up on the couch, a blanket shared between us, watching the game.
Chris’s arm is around me when his phone vibrates, and a clip shows on the display.
He only takes a quick look before setting it back on the table.
Before long, an engine rumbles outside, its roar swelling as it approaches.
He acknowledges the sound with a curve of his lips.
“He’s back.”
“Did you see him coming on your phone?” I ask in surprise.
“You can’t be too careful,” he says, grazing his lips against my ear.
The door bursts open with a whirl of cold air, and confident footsteps approach. My body goes rigid before I can stop it. A second ago, the whole world was narrowed down to Chris and me and now guilt washes over me.
I try to smile, but it comes out small and startled, the kind you give when you’ve been caught sneaking cookies from the jar. My cheeks burn, and I pull myself free from Chris’s arm, certain I look like a living confession. Whatever I thought I could hide is already out in the open.
Chris stays exactly where he is.
Cash pauses at the wardrobe, hanging up his jacket before turning to take us in. His eyes sweep over my face, his mouth curving into a wide grin, eyebrows lifting in that familiar, infuriating way.
“So,” he drawls, dragging the word out, “the storm kicked off more than rain, huh?”
A horrified groan rips out of me, and I bury my face in both hands, peeking through my fingers. “Oh my God.”
Chris chuckles beside me. “Subtle, man.”
Cash shrugs, totally unapologetic. “What? I didn’t walk in on you, did I?”
“Cash,” I snap, half warning, half begging.
He lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, hey. Just sayin’. Big shift of energy in here.”
Chris tilts his head at him. “You talking about the glowing fireplace ambiance, or the part where Sara’s trying to melt into the couch?”
“Bit of both,” Cash says, and I continue staring at my palms. “So... how was it?”
My hands drop and I look at him, scandalized. “You can’t ask that!”
“Sure I can. I’m family.” He winks.
My mouth falls open. Heat floods my face, and I bolt upright. “You two are impossible.”
I march toward the stairs, muttering about being tired, and escape to my room.
They’re talking, but I can’t make out the words from the bathroom.
Although I really want to see Cash, I keep myself from returning downstairs.
The thought of walking in and having both of them turn toward me with those knowing grins makes me hesitate.
So I stay upstairs, crawl into bed, and let the quiet settle around me.
A dry mouth and a restlessness thrumming in my chest drag me out of sleep. Chris comes in and finds me awake.
“Hey,” he almost whispers, a tender expression on his face.
“Hey.” My voice is scratchy with sleep.
He sits beside me, searching my eyes. “Any soreness?”
“God,” I mutter. “Don’t ask me that.”
He chuckles warmly. “Don’t go shy on me, Sara. Nothing to be embarrassed about. If you’re sore, say so. Communication, remember?”
He looks infuriatingly calm, like asking a girl that after sex is the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it is. I don’t know. I’m lacking experience in that department.
“I’m fine,” I say. “A little... yeah. But not bad. I’m thirsty, though.”
“I’ll grab you something,” he offers.
“No, I’ll go. I’ve been asleep too long already.” What a sorry excuse to go downstairs.
“Exhausted, huh?”
There’s that smirk again.
I open my mouth to scold him, but he throws up his hands in apology.
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop,” he laughs, getting comfortable on the bed as I get up.
The house is still except for the creak of wood and the faint hiss of the fire glowing in the living room.
There he is. Cash is asleep on the couch, one arm draped over his inked chest, the other hanging loosely off the side.
His head is tilted slightly, lips parted enough to dull the slyness he usually wears.
He looks... different this way, and I can’t help being drawn to him.
I stand there for a moment longer, watching him. I let the image settle into memory before crossing the room, hoping my steps won’t disturb him. At the kitchen door, I glance back one last time. He hasn’t moved, and I hate how much I wish he would.
The moonlight provides all the illumination I need without flipping on a switch. I fill a glass with water and lean against the counter, gazing out the window into the forest’s darkness.
The door opens. I turn as Cash enters, one hand at his neck, working the kinks out. My heart’s thudding faster already.
“Well, look who can’t sleep either,” he beams the second he spots me.
“I was thirsty,” I say, holding up my glass like evidence, as though I need to justify being here.
“Were you?” There’s a teasing note in his voice.
I roll my eyes, guessing he can’t tell.
He approaches me slowly, each step charging the air between us. “Or you wanted to see me.” The mischievous glint in his blue eyes cuts through the dim light.
He leans his hip against the counter, mirroring my posture. “Did you miss me?”
I ignore the question but hold his gaze. “I... I wanted to check if you were mad.”
“Mad?” he repeats, tilting his head, confusion replacing the playfulness. “About you and Stix?”
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “I mean... I didn’t know if it’d be weird.”
His eyes linger on me for a long beat before he puts me out of my uncertainty.
“Sara, don’t worry, okay? This,” he says, circling a finger between us, “all of this, it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.”
I look down at my glass, turning it slowly in my hands.
“If you want to hug me, you can.”
There’s that tone again.
I glance back up at him. “That sounds... unexpectedly decent.”
He winks. “Don’t get used to it.”
That lands a spark in my chest. “Is a hug all you want?”
Cash arches a brow, steps closer and puts one hand on either side of me on the counter, caging me in. His mouth is barely an inch from mine. “You know the answer to that.”
I blink at him. “Then why did you send me away the other night?”
“Because I didn’t think you were ready.”
I hate how sure he sounds.
“I am,” I say before I can stop myself. It’s almost childish how much I need him to know that. Maybe it’s the hour, or the way the night hushes the world. Maybe it’s the countdown ticking in the back of my mind, how little time we have left.
“Are you?” he asks, one corner of his mouth lifting.
Instead of answering, I put my hand on the nape of his neck, rise onto my toes, and close the distance between our lips. It’s not just a kiss. It’s a kiss that says I mean it.
His body stays still at first, letting me take the lead, then his tongue answers in kind.
“Do I come across as not ready?” I ask confidently.
He exhales an amused laugh, but it’s not mocking. It’s affectionate. He opens the belt of my robe to find me in my panties and a tank underneath. I swallow hard but hold his gaze.
“Chris had you here, right?” he murmurs, the back of his hand gently brushing my pubic bone, “What if I wanted you there?” He snakes his arms around me under the robe and draws me in.
At an agonizingly slow pace, his index finger skims down my spine all the way to my tailbone and then a little further.
His touch steals the breath from my lungs. I blink, unsure if I even understand what he’s referring to.
As realization hits, my eyes widen and a cold ripple courses through me. Chris’s teasing earlier turned the world light and easy, but this? This is entirely different. I didn’t expect Cash to be this... intense.
My shoulders slump. I look down, then away.
I don’t know what to say. Everything inside me is an aching mess. This is too much, too fast. I’ve gotten in over my head.
He eases away, giving me space. “That’s what I mean,” he says with conviction. “We’re not there yet.”
“Why would you want to do that to me?”
“It’s not about doing it to you. It’s about doing it with you,” he explains. “Nothing compares to the way someone surrenders to the unknown, to the rising intensity or even the crack of pain. It’s the ultimate act of trust. Experiencing that with you would mean everything.”
I absorb his words. They stir curiosity instead of fear.
What he says is dangerous and electrifying.
A warning and a dare tangled together. It’s like standing too close to the edge of a cliff.
Every instinct screams to step back, to play it safe, but there’s this magnetic pull dragging you forward.
You know it could hurt. You know you could regret it.
But the thought of not doing it feels worse than the fall ever could.
His gaze wanders down my body, stopping at the hanging ends of my robe’s belt. He takes them in his hands and searches my eyes. As if reading my thoughts, he says, “Do you want a taste of what I’m talking about?”
My stomach flips. “Depends,” I say, more stiffly than I intend.
Cash studies me for a moment. “I’ll take this,” he says, holding up one end of the belt, “and I’ll tie your hands behind your back.”
I frown, the idea blindsiding me. Inside my head, sirens wail and a red light spins wildly.
“Then I’ll stroke your arms, your face, your neck, and I’m going to kiss you.”
He stops talking.
“That’s it?” I ask, my throat suddenly dry. “Why would you want to tie me up for that? I’d let you do all that without—”
When his hand rises and touches my cheek, the rest of my words dissolve into silence.
“That’s where the trust comes in,” he says softly. “You trust that I’ll do exactly what I said I would. Nothing more. That’s the point.”
“I thought Chris was more the controlling type.”
He leans in and whispers, “If Chris were part of this, we wouldn’t need restraints.”
I’m dizzy. The floor is cold beneath my feet, but it hardly registers. I don’t move or breathe too loudly.
“Okay.” My mouth betrays me before my brain can object.
Between us, gravity shifts, pulling me toward the cliff’s edge.