Chapter 15 #2
“I want to do things with you I’m not entirely sure are legal,” Sawyer said. “Well, more specifically, I want you to do things to me that...”
Ciaran hissed and shifted his leg, bringing his knee up. “You probably shouldn’t say things like that to me,” he whispered, voice tight. “We need to talk. About everything, what it all means, before we...”
“Before we fuck?”
Ciaran groaned. “Sawyer,” he warned, eyes ablaze. Sawyer noticed then that Ciaran’s hands were fists gripping the blankets. “We were supposed to talk last night, but you decided seeing was better.”
“It was.”
Ciaran ducked his head, a brief smile tugging at his lips before he schooled his expression. “You were not...” He flinched. “Scared? Repulsed?”
Sawyer shook his head. “No.” Then he relented. “It’s still weird. It’s still a lot to get my head around, and I have questions. A lot of questions. But I wasn’t scared, or repulsed. In fact...”
“In fact what?”
“I felt safe. And it was fun. I wanted to stay underwater with you. I actually forgot I needed air.”
Ciaran growled at that. “You... you cannot forget such things. Do you know how dangerous that is? You cannot be reckless like that.”
“What is it about the water?” Sawyer asked. “Why does it call to me? Why does it feel like home to me?”
Ciaran’s nostrils flared and a different kind of fire burned in his eyes. “I don’t know.”
“Is it because of you? Because we’re... mates?” Sawyer made a face. “Is that the right word?”
“Yes. But technically, our bond is not complete, so we are not—”
It dawned on Sawyer what he meant.
Why he said they needed to talk before they fucked.
“So, you fucking me will complete the bond,” he said, nodding sagely.
He slow-blinked. “Yes.”
“That’s why you need us to talk first.”
“Yes.” Ciaran flinched. “I would never do such a thing without your consent. It would bond us for life, and—”
“Life?”
Ciaran’s gaze met his, honest and exposed. “Yes.”
Well, shit.
“Mine or yours?” Sawyer asked. “How long do you live for, anyway?”
“If we are bonded, our lives are entwined. One cannot live without the other.”
Sawyer looked at him then. “Well... well, that’s...”
“A lot.” Ciaran flinched and, after a long moment, pulled a thread on the blanket. “There is much we don’t know because you are human.”
“I’m the first, huh?”
Ciaran nodded. “We believe so, yes.”
“And if I decide that I don’t want to go through with it?” Then Sawyer thought about that. “Wait. I do have a choice, right?”
“Of course. You will always have free will.”
“Except if you die.”
“Well, yes.” He drew his gaze slowly up Sawyer’s arm to his face. “A mating bond is so intense, you will not want to fathom a life without your partner.”
“We wouldn’t be one of those annoying too-clingy couples that can’t be apart for a minute, would we?” Sawyer cringed. “I mean, you’d still go off and do your octo thing, and I’d do my cop thing, and—”
“My octo thing?”
“Well, yeah.”
Ciaran snorted out a laugh, one corner of his mouth lifting up into a crooked smile that lit Sawyer up inside.
He would kill to see it again.
Literally.
He would literally... what? Kill someone just to see Ciaran smile?
Yes.
“Jesus Christ.”
“What?”
Sawyer shook his head. “Uh. You said it’s intense. How intense is normal? Because I’m having some unusual thoughts.”
Ciaran looked concerned. “Such as?”
He squinted his eyes shut, ridding his mind of homicidal thoughts of doing anything to make Ciaran smile, including murder. “Nothing. It’s fine. We should probably get dressed. Being naked isn’t helping.”
Just then Fraser called out before he waltzed into the room.
“Hey.” He stopped mid-step, smile dying.
“Wow, the pheromones. Jeez. And you’re both naked.
I heard you talking and assumed you had clothes on.
” His eyes went wide, aimed directly at Ciaran.
“Did you...? Are you...? Did you complete the bond?”
“No,” Ciaran murmured.
“It smells like you did,” he said, making a face.
“Fuck off,” Ciaran grumbled. “And I’m not naked.” He pulled the covers back to show the waistband of his shorts.
Fraser laughed, but then he launched himself at Ciaran as if to tackle him on the bed, and Sawyer reacted without thinking.
Without intending to.
Pure instinct.
Sawyer cleared the bed and before Fraser could lay a hand on Ciaran and had him by the throat and pinned to the wall. “Do not touch him,” he seethed, hand tightening.
Then he realised what he’d done.
Sawyer didn’t know who was more shocked, him or Fraser.
He pulled his hand back with a gasp. “Fuck. Sorry. I’m sorry.” Then he spun around to look for Ciaran, who was now on his feet, stunned as well. “What the fuck was that? Why did I do that? What’s wrong with me?”
Ciaran pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around Sawyer because, fuck, he was still naked.
Sawyer cocooned himself in it and slumped onto the edge of his bed. He dared look up at Fraser, who was rubbing his neck. “I’m so sorry,” Sawyer whispered.
Jesus Christ.
First the thought that he could murder someone to make Ciaran smile, and now physical violence because... because what? Fraser had been about to happy-tackle Ciaran?
“The fuck is wrong with me?”
“It’s okay,” Ciaran whispered. He turned to Fraser. “You’re okay?”
Fraser nodded, his smile long gone. “Uh, yeah. Guess I won’t be roughhousing with you anymore, though. Jeez.”
“I didn’t mean it,” Sawyer tried. “I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing until... until...”
Ciaran knelt in front of him and slid his hand along Sawyer’s jaw. “It’s okay. You couldn’t help it. It’s not your fault.”
How the fuck wasn’t it his fault?
Then he realised...
Oh.
“Is this the bond thing? Is that what made me do it? Because the thought of anyone touching you or hurting you...” Sawyer shook his head. “This is fucked up.”
Ciaran frowned and leaned back on his haunches. He looked smaller, somehow. He gave a single defeated nod. “I’m sorry.”
Seeing him sad was worse than thinking Fraser was any kind of threat. “No, no,” he said quickly, trying to get his hands out of the blankets. He cupped Ciaran’s jaw, then touched his neck, his shoulders, and back to his face again. “Ciaran, it’s not your fault.”
His copper eyes met Sawyer’s, so freaking sad. “If it weren’t for me...”
Sawyer shook his head, trying to stop whatever this was.
If he thought having ideations of murder was bad, this was so, so much worse.
The ache, the anguish, was a physical pain like a burning lump in the middle of his chest.
He put the heel of his hand to his sternum. “What the fuck is happening now? Why does this hurt?” He couldn’t seem to catch his breath.
At all.
No matter how hard he tried, the searing ache was only getting worse, and it was getting harder to breathe.
Ciaran’s eyes scanned him, his palm pressed over Sawyer’s heart, and he turned to Fraser. “Get Kellan,” he barked. “Now.”