Chapter 10 Wraith #2
“Preaching to the choir, man.”
I nod, stepping closer to put my hand on his arm. “I know it runs deep, but no man is worth losing yourself over.”
“Oh, I know. It wasn’t even like that. It was…” His words trail off as his eyes turn glassy again and he looks away, focusing again on unpacking. “Complicated.”
“I get it.”
There’s a soft knock at the door.
“Come in,” Stealth says.
The door opens and Shadow steps in, looking surprised to see me. That’s my cue to bail.
“I’ll talk to you later, Stealth. Welcome home.”
“Thanks, man,” he says softly, focused on his clothes and not our boss.
Definitely something going on there, but fuck if I know what it is. I head back to the rec room, my thoughts shifting to the sexy hockey player whose moans I can still hear in my mind. Wonder what he’s doing tonight. There’s no game until Saturday, so maybe he actually just gets to relax.
I could text him and find out. Maybe he’d be up for meeting in between games. Fuck knows I sure would. He’s fucking hot and I want more.
Before I get too far in those feelings, I’m accosted by my brothers, wanting to know what Stealth wanted to talk to me about privately.
“Oh, I wrote something in the letter I sent and he just wanted to thank me. He liked all of our letters,” I add quickly.
“He’s good?” Whisper asks.
“Ja, bror, he’s good. He seems solid and clear.”
“Good.”
“But what the fuck was that vibe with him and Shadow?” Phantom asks. “You all felt it too, right?”
We all nod, and then I say, “I told him about Bellamy. He didn’t know.”
Specter pulls his head back. “The fuck did you do that for?”
“He asked.”
“Asked what?” Ghost says.
“If Shadow had anyone.” I shrug. “I didn’t think lying would be good, so I told him the truth.”
“Awesome.” The sarcasm is heavy in Carnage’s voice. “Shadow just told us not to tell him about Bellamy.”
My jaw drops. “Why not?”
“He was cryptic,” Carnage replies. “He said it was the past and had nothing to do with now.”
My eyes shift to Colson, who’s perched on Specter’s lap, picking at his nail polish. I’m pretty sure Colson knows more about the situation than he lets on, but maybe this isn’t the time or the place.
“Well, I didn’t know. I guess I’ll tell Shadow that I—”
“Wraith!”
I squeeze my eyes shut as Shadow’s voice booms from the top of the stairs.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter, already heading in that direction. “I didn’t fucking know,” I say as soon as I see his tense expression. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”
“It’s not a fucking secret,” he says through gritted teeth. “But why?”
“He asked, boss.”
“He asked what?”
“If you had someone.”
“You could’ve said no because I don’t.”
“But you did, and that was the nature of his question.”
Shadow nods, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “Sorry. I’m just…” He shakes his head.
“What I said before still stands. You can talk to me.”
His gaze settles on me, softening a touch. “I know. I need to sort through my shit, but I’m okay. It’s good to have Stealth back. Really good. Right?”
“Yeah, of course. We’re a family.”
“We are.” He actually smiles slightly. “I’m okay. Sorry I snapped at you.”
“I can take it.” I pat his shoulder. “Are you coming back down?”
“No. I need to be alone for a while.”
“I understand.”
Shadow nods and turns to go to his room. It’s obvious that Stealth brought up Bellamy pretty quickly, and I can’t help but wonder why. I let it go though. Gossiping about my boss isn’t my bag.
Instead of going back down with the guys, I head to my bedroom, pulling my phone out of my pocket on the way to text Bouche. He might hate it, but I won’t know if I don’t try.
Me: Hey
The message shows as read right away, but it takes several minutes before the dots pop up and a reply comes through.
Bouche: Hey
Me: Busy?
Bouche: At the gym finishing my workout.
The vision of him dripping in sweat pops into my head and my cock swells.
Me: Mm, I bet you smell divine. Manly.
He sends a picture of his face, indeed covered in sweat. He’s wearing a tank top that’s soaked through. Jesus, this man is hot.
Me: I want to lick you.
The dots appear and disappear several times before a message finally comes through.
Bouche: I want to let you.
Fuck yeah.
Me: You want me to fuck your slutty little hole again tonight? Say the word, Bouche, and I’m there. I can’t stop thinking about how tight and hot you are inside.
The message shows as read, but there’s no answer and I wonder if I’ve pushed him too far.
Ten minutes pass before my phone buzzes again.
Bouche: Made me pop wood in the middle of a set. Asshole.
That makes me laugh.
Me: Is that a yes?
The dots pop up again and I wait for the paragraph he must be typing.
Bouche: Give me an hour.
I smile. That’s what I’m talking about.
Me: Don’t shower first. I want to smell you.
Bouche: You really don’t.
Me: I’ll be the judge of that. I want you naked and sweaty and waiting for me.
Bouche: 1280 Washington Ave.
Me: See you in an hour, Bouche. Get yourself ready for me.
Bouche: Okay.
After tossing my phone on the bed, I head to my bathroom for a shower. I took a chance and it paid off. I can’t wait to get inside that man again. This is gonna be good. I’ll get him out of my system then I can focus on my target Saturday night.
Chuckling to myself, I start the shower and peel out of my clothes.
Who am I kidding? I’m fucking Bouche any chance I get for as long as I can.
I shouldn’t want this job to wrap up and remove my excuse to go and see Bouche play.
Not that I’m interested in the game. Just the man on skates plowing through other grown men like bowling pins.
I think he likes it when I dominate him a little though. It’s a contrast to his on-ice persona, but maybe that’s why it works. He’s always in charge, but the look in his eyes when I take over says he doesn’t always want to be.
I can definitely work with that.