CHAPTER 19 #3
“I want to,” Arran cut in. “Stop believin’ that yer a burden to us, darlin’. Yer no’. Me, Cal, and Dario are grateful for every second we get to spend wi’ ye, an’ we’re honoured when ye finally let go enough wi’ us to let us care fer ye for a wee while. That’s what we want, fer ye to trust in us.”
“I do,” I nodded. “I just wish Rafe knew about us. That’s just more guilt. I’m keeping secrets from him.”
I glanced behind me to the closed door of Rafe’s room and felt my anxiety getting a grip on me.
Would he hear us out in the hall? I think a part of me wanted him to, which made me such a selfish cow, because Rafe was in no state to try and deal with the anger I knew he’d feel in response to me loving three different men – men Rafe trusted.
I felt like such a shitty person as my guilt tried to drown me. Maybe it should. Maybe that would have been better for everyone.
I glanced to Gia’s closed bedroom door again and suddenly the landing around me felt too open, too exposed.
My dark thoughts led me to my fears, and that just led to the reason for those fears.
I tried to take a breath and get a handle on it all, and when it just came out shaky and uneven, I slammed my eyes closed, irritated and ashamed.
“Hey,” Arran murmured.
His hand found mine without looking, fingers threading between mine like it was just second nature. It steadied me more than I wanted to admit. He was pressed against my back, his arms still tight around me, his warmth a quiet insistence that I wasn’t alone; that he was right there with me.
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
“I’m getting’ so sick of ye trying to placate everyone with those bullshit words, Cara. Yer no’ fine, so stop lying. Yer foolin’ no one.”
I opened my eyes just enough to glare at him, but he didn’t bite, and I couldn’t even get mad with him.
Not when he was watching me as he was – his gaze gentle, patient, as if he had all the time in the world to wait me out.
Finally I felt myself give in. There was no use trying to hide from him when he saw past every mask I put up.
“I should stay with Rafe,” I whispered. “He’s…he got shot a-and I need to…”
“We’re talking about Rafe here,” Arran cut in, “He’s the toughest bastard I’ve ever ken’t. Even laid up as he is, I guarantee he’s currently plotting someone’s death. Likely Dario’s from what he told me about that nurse.”
A breath escaped me before I could stop it. Not quite a laugh, but close enough that Arran caught it.
“There it is,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Thought I’d lost ye completely to yer guilt spiral.”
I shook my head, but my grip tightened in his. “You don’t understand. If I hadn’t…”
“I understand that ye care about him,” Arran told me, softer now. “And that yer exhausted. And that ye had a very tough workout in the gym this morning, an’ are standing here shakin’ in damp clothes, cold, exhausted, likely hungry, and letting yer panic ride ye.”
“How do you…”
“I’m observant,” he cut in. “And I ken ye well now, lass, better than I think ye even realise.”
“Arran…”
“Come on. Down to yer room. Shower. Food. When yer feeling stronger, we’ll come back and check on yer brother.”
“I don’t know,” I hedged, but he was already guiding me toward the stairs, his hand at the small of my back, steady and warm. With every step down, away from Rafe and Gia’s room, I felt my panic ebbing and myself calming.
“Ye need to know, Cara, no matter what Rafe does or says when we tell him everythin’, I’ll no’ be going anywhere. You were made fer me. I ken that, and I ken there’s no’ a thing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep ye.”
“I’m not letting you go either. I can’t see my future without you in it anymore, and I wouldn’t ever want to.”
He didn’t reply, just turned to me with a resonant smile, and lifted our joined hands to his lips. pressing them briefly to my knuckles.
By the time we reached my room, my anxiousness had dulled to something manageable.
The familiar space helped – the soft lighting , illuminating every corner of the room, the vague scent that was all Cal and Arran, from them both sleeping with me the night before, the familiarity of a room I felt safe in - but it was Arran’s presence that really soothed me.
I hovered just inside the doorway, suddenly unsure what to do with myself.
I’d just had another minor melt down in front of Arran and I felt so sure that he must be getting fed up with it all.
Who wouldn’t? I was fed up with it! I longed to just be able to keep it together, but too much had happened, and even as hard as I was trying to take steps forwards, the darkness occasionally found its way in again.
“Okay,” he announced gently, turning to face me. It was obvious he had noticed me wavering. His hands settled on my arms, thumbs brushing slow, grounding circles against my skin. “Yer gonna shower. Warm, not scalding.”
I looked up at him with shock and opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off.
“Ye didnae think we’d realise when yer always coming out of the shower with yer skin almost blisterin’?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrow.
“That’s an exaggeration,” I mumbled. “It helps sometimes. I…after I have certain nightmares or flashbacks, I just….it makes me feel so dirty. My skin crawls. The heat helps,” I tried to explain.
I didn’t add that the shower had to be hot for me to feel even remotely clean, because I was too afraid and damaged to linger for more than a few minutes under the water.
“No more. If ye need help, ye talk to us. Ye don’t burn yer beautiful skin away and harm yerself.”
“I’ll try,” I whispered shakily.
I felt so raw and exposed in that moment as it hit me that I hadn’t really been successfully hiding any of my fucked up from the men I loved.
“That’s a start.” He leaned in and kissed the top of my head. “Let’s get you sorted then, lass. A shower and clean clothes, and ye’ll feel human again in ten minutes.”
“And you?” I asked, looking up at him. He’d trimmed down his beard so it was shorter, and he looked so handsome with his hair tied back, his eyes twinkling.
“I’ll start it fer ye,” he told me, “Then I’ll stay close and make sure yer no’ tempted to turn that water up to lobster boiling temperatures.”
A corner of my mouth lifted half-heartedly, and he reached up to cup my cheek in his hand, smoothing his fingers over my skin there.
“Stop over thinkin’ everything, darlin’.”
“Over thinking is sorta my thing,” I shrugged.
“Ye need a new thing.” He leant in, pressing a brief, reassuring kiss to my temple. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
I watched him disappear into the en-suite, the sound of the shower running a moment later.
I tried hard to focus on that, and on what I needed to do in, and after the shower.
Anything to stop myself from feeling the ridiculous loss I felt not to have him wrapped around me anymore.
My hand felt cold without his fingers intertwined with mine.
I found myself staring at the bathroom door, knowing how pathetic I was, but feeling too raw to stop it. When he came back out, a faint curl of steam followed him, and I had to stop myself with everything in me from running into his arms again.
“All set,” he smiled. “In ye go.”
I nodded and told myself to get in the damned shower and pull myself together. I didn’t do that though.
Instead, I stepped toward him, needing to be closer to him, wanting his touch on me again. It was like my feet carried me to him without my permission. I didn’t even really think about it until I was already there, my hands gripping his shirt, rising onto my toes to press my mouth to his.
He stopped frozen for half a second, surprised maybe, but then his hands came up to my waist, firm and sure.
He tilted his head, deepening it just enough to make my pulse jump.
He didn’t rush, or press for more than I was giving, but he wasn’t holding back either.
I felt his thumb brushing along my side, and then I felt it everywhere.
My core clenched and I knew I needed more of him.
I pulled back a fraction, gasping, my breaths uneven.
“Arran…”
“Hmm?” He rested his forehead lightly against mine, but his grip tightened, like he feared I may try to move away.
“I stopped over thinking,” I smiled. “Do you think this could be my new thing?”
“Sounds like a possibility,” he smirked. “I’d be willing to help ye give it a good test run, trial the theory as much as ye need to.”
I huffed out a laugh, but it was cut off when he kissed me again - slower this time, deliberate, like he was feeling out just how far I’d let it go.
I had no intention of applying any breaks by that point though.
My fingers slid up to his collar, tugging him closer so he was leaning into me more. He made a quiet sound against my mouth, something pleased and low that sent heat straight through me and had me feeling satisfied that he seemed to need me as much as I needed him.
“Cara,” he uttered, clearly about to ask me if I were sure, despite the fact his hands had already shifted, drawing me closer until I was flush against him.
I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, needing him to know without doubt that I was sure. “Come in with me…in the shower.”
Arran lifted his head a little more and studied me, the words hanging there between us.
“Ye sure?” he asked, voice gentle, but steady. “You were upset before. Is this a distraction?”
“No. This is me wanting you,” I stated, surprising myself with how certain I felt. “…needing you.”
Something in his expression softened completely and he seemed to steady himself with a small breath.
“Alright,” he nodded.
He released his hold on me and took my hand again instead, his fingers linking between mine. It felt so right, as did the small distance he led me toward the bathroom. Everything in that moment was as I wanted it to be.
Inside the bathroom the air was warm, fog steaming up the large mirror above the sink. The sound of the shower filled the space, rhythmic and almost soothing. We stopped just inside, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
“I need ye to be clear right now, Cara. I dinnae want to get our signals crossed and fuck up,” he told me as he turned to face me.
“I want all of you,” I answered almost shyly.
“I…I want you to show me…th-that it can be good. That sex isn’t always about fear.
I know we…before with Cal, I know and that helped, but I…
I want more, Arran, with you. Now, here.
Will you make love to me? Please?” I bumbled embarrassingly.
“Fuck,” I sighed as I slammed my hand into my face, knowing I’d just made myself sound like an idiot.
“I’ll show ye, darlin’. I’ll prove to ye that sex is about so very much - so many amazing, incredible, exciting experiences.
But there’ll never be fear when yer with me.
If it starts to creep in, ye stop me, right?
Ye tell me and we talk. I never want ye to feel scared or worried when we’re together.
I only want ye to feel loved, cherished, and worshipped. ”
“Yes,” I gasped as I looked up into his intense eyes and let go of every last thread of indecision and worry that I was holding onto. I wanted what he had just said. All of it, and I had no fear about Arran ever hurting me.
“That’s ma girl.” He looked to me with so much adoration, and I only felt relief when his fingers found the hem of my sports bra.
“May I?” he requested and I nodded eagerly, trying to curb the smile on my face, not wanting to look too eager.
He lifted it slowly, carefully, like it mattered.
Like I mattered. His knuckles brushed my skin as the fabric was lifted, and the touch lingered, sending heat racing through me.
I briefly closed my eyes as the top went over my head, but when I opened them again, Arran was watching me, checking on me, always taking care of me.
Then it was my turn and I couldn’t wait to see his perfect body again.
My hands weren’t as steady as his. I felt a little unsure, having never undressed a man before, but he didn’t rush me.
Just watched patiently, as I tugged at his shirt, reaching on my tiptoes in an attempt to get it over his head.
I just about managed to reach, pulling the shirt free and tossing it aside.
I couldn’t have stopped my fingertips from tracing the lines of his abdomen if I’d have tried.
I just wanted to touch him. His well-honed body was too perfect to believe without feeling it for myself.
I almost jolted when he reached down to take my hand in his, pulling my touch from the defined lines of his abs. I squeaked in complaint, but then he pressed a lingering kiss to my lips and I felt the promise of all that was to come.
“Come on,” he coaxed softly.
I held onto his hand with both of mine and followed behind him to the large shower enclosure.
“We still have clothes on,” I dumbly pointed out when I thought he was about to step in.
“That can be remedied, can it no’?”
Before I could even contemplate what to do next, Arran had shoved down his jeans and boxers in one fast move, then stepped out of them, kicking them aside.
Not wanting to waste time, I did the same, but not quite as gracefully.
Still, I remained upright and kicked my leggings over to where his jeans were.
Then I tried desperately not to cover my naked body from him.
I knew he didn’t like that. He and Cal had told me before.
They wanted to look their fill, and knowing that gave me more confidence to stand proudly before him.
Arran took my hand again and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it.
“Yer so beautiful, Cara,” he told me and I smiled bashfully.
He pulled me closer and held my hand tightly as we stepped into the shower, then forward into the warmth.
Arran got the door, and the rest of the world slipped away behind it as he pulled it closed.
Right there, right then, it was just us.
No anxiety. No threats or fears. No worries or work.
No past. No future. Just us – me and Arran – and the peace we found in one another.