Chapter 32 #3
“I couldn’t stand the thought of you out on your own in the world again, unprotected,” he continued, teething at my fluttering pulse point.
“So I asked my brother to interview you for the private chef position. If he didn’t like your food, I would’ve hired you myself and prayed you didn’t recognize me.
I told myself it was my fault you couldn’t work at the restaurant Weber might go back to or live somewhere he could find you.
But really, I just wanted you close. I wanted you somewhere I could watch.
When I moved out of Saint’s guest house, I told him it was so you’d have somewhere safe to stay, but the real reason… ”
He nipped my ear. “The real reason was, it made me hard to think about you showering in the same place I used to; sleeping in the same place I did, like we were connected. Sometimes, I’d even go stand in my brother’s kitchen after you left just so I could smell you.”
“God, Atlas…” I breathed. That was so fucked up.
It also made me hard as a rock. Grinding my hips up into his, I said, “I can’t believe you held out on me for so long over this.
We could’ve been having really hot shower sex this whole time.
After you mate me, we’re gonna fight about it, and then I’m gonna make you sit and watch me jerk off while I think about you watching me while I’m in the shower. ”
He stilled above me. “Is that… something you’re into?”
The tone of his voice, wary and seeking, brought me to the surface. Surely, he wouldn’t draw the line at exhibitionism after confessing that?
“Um…” I said. “Well. Yes, actually.”
I took a deep breath. He’d just bared his deepest, darkest desires to me. I could do the same in return. “You remember the first night—well, I guess not the first—but the night you broke into my apartment and asked me to help with your rut?”
“I recall.”
Fuck. Did I really, really need to tell him? His eyes were expectant, though, almost like he anticipated what I was about to say. It wouldn’t be right to lie. Not now. Not ever again, after he tore down the walls between us.
“I think I was already feeling the start of my heat after seeing you, and I sort of made myself come. While thinking about you.”
He blinked. “You were… thinking about me?”
“Mmhmm.”
“What about me, exactly?” he asked, that wolfish flare back in his gaze. It made my cock pulse.
“Uhh…” In for a penny, in for a pound, right? “I imagined you were… watching me. From outside the window. I thought about you jerking off with me.”
Atlas froze. Tick, tick, tick. God, how loud was that clock?
I cleared my throat. “Is that too weird?”
Still frozen.
I huffed. “Okay, you just told me you broke into my apartment to smell my sheets. There is no way this is worse than—”
“Max.”
My mouth clipped shut. “What?”
Again, he just looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time. Awe shone in his eyes.
I protested when he rolled off, but he pulled me up so we sat side-by-side on the edge of the bed.
Then, he pointed to the top drawer of his nightstand. “Open it.”
“Ya know, I’m good. I’m not really interested in your cummy tissues.”
“Max.”
I sighed. “Fine. But if this turns out to be a dick in a box joke, I’m starting another fight.”
When I opened the drawer, however, there were no used tissues or suspicious holes. Instead, I pulled out a ziplock baggie with some kind of clothing inside.
“What is this?” I asked, holding it up.
Atlas went rigid next to me, like I was a tiger about to pounce. The way he looked at me, I knew—this was it.
The thing he feared most; the thing he thought would make me leave.
“They’re yours,” he croaked. “I stole them out of your hamper the first night I asked for your help. I shoved them in a ziplock bag so the smell wouldn’t diminish.”
My head grew fuzzy with that velvet heat. I looked closer, and… yes. My boxers. I probably would’ve never missed them, having several identical pairs. If anything, I’d have thought the dryer ate them. “You… stole my boxers?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I was so worked up after seeing you again, I stole your boxers, drove home, stuffed them in my mouth, and came in my pants from just the scent of you.”
Molten lava rushed through my veins. He came from just my scent? I reached for him. “Atlas—”
“Wait,” he said, gently grasping my wrist. He kissed the scent gland there, too. “Wait.”
Tick, tick, tick.
He looked straight ahead. “I was sitting right there,” he said, pointing at the chair in front of the windows. His voice grew raspy. “And then I watched you while you—while you thought about me and fucked yourself with a dildo until I came a second time.”
My heart stopped. “You… were… watching? You actually saw that?”
He nodded but wouldn’t look at me.
Was that too far? At the time, I thought it was only a fantasy, not reality. I thought my hidden desires were just that—hidden, never to see the light of day.
But Atlas was watching. He’d always been watching, since the moment we met.
I searched for the fear and violation that should’ve made me feel, and… nothing. It only warmed my chest to know he’d always been there. It wasn’t normal, but it was real.
It was us.
Mouth opening and closing, I finally found my words. “But… How?” I asked. “Did you put a camera in my room? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
He leaned forward and palmed his face. “No, sweetheart. Look out the window.”