CHAPTER twenty-four
The Quiet Scream
Denver, Colorado
I wait until the hush of late night fully settles over the bus after the Denver show—Cody’s trademark snore-sawing now drifting from his bunk. Jasper and Sasha are holed up in the back room, leaving me temporarily in Jasper’s bunk.
Once again, I could hardly tear my eyes away from Elias as he commanded the stage.
Under the glow of the lights, he was all fire and rhythm, pouring himself into every lyric like he was singing directly to my soul.
At one point, he glanced my way, catching me mid-stare.
A slow, knowing smirk curved at the corner of his mouth, and my breath caught in my throat.
He saw me gawking and wasn’t afraid to tease me for it.
I pull out my phone and fire off a message:
Me: I can’t believe you sleep in this thing every night. How does your spine not shatter?
Elias: Just used to it I guess.
Me: Well, I’m way too cute to be living like this.
Elias: Tour life too tough for you, Flowers?
Me: I never said I couldn’t handle it… but I will absolutely complain.
I grin at the screen, but before he can answer again, a surge of daring bubbles up in me, playful and a little reckless. On impulse, I swing my legs out of the bunk and quietly tiptoe across the narrow aisle. Kneeling in front of his curtain, I gently ease it open.
Amber eyes flick up to meet mine in the dim light, his expression is caught somewhere between surprise and amusement, like he wasn’t expecting me, but he’s definitely not mad about it either.
“You gonna invite me in?” I whisper.
Without a word, he shifts back against the wall, making just enough space. I slide in, pulling the curtain shut behind me. The bunk is barely wide enough for two, which means every inch of us touches—his bare chest flush against my back, his breath brushing my neck as he exhales slowly.
He loops an arm around me without hesitation, fingers resting gently across my collarbone as he pulls me closer, our legs tangling instinctively. His breath brushes the back of my neck, and I feel the tension in his body melt as I settle in.
“Feeling dangerous, huh?” he whispers against my ear, and the feeling of his breath sends a shiver through me.
“What if I am?” I reply, shifting slightly, letting my backside brush against his hips.
A low sound rumbles in his throat.
“I knew you were trouble.”
His lips find the curve of my neck, teasing with slow grazes that send a rush of heat through my veins. I shift against him, my body instinctively seeking more. A low, rough groan escapes him, and the heat of his breath spreads onto my skin as we move together in the tight space.
His hands begin to explore, the touch purposeful and maddeningly slow. One slips beneath the hem of my shirt, fingertips skimming the sensitive skin of my stomach before drifting higher. When they find my breast, his thumb circles with lazy intent, a gasp escapes me before I can stop it.
He presses his other hand gently over my mouth, a smirk in his voice as he whispers against my ear, “Bite if you need to.”
I offer a silent prayer of thanks to the emo gods that Cody and Grady both sleep like the dead with their earplugs in, because I’m sure we are not being entirely quiet.
His touch deepens, palm curving around me, fingers dragging out sparks with every subtle pass. His hand slides lower now, inching along the waistband of my shorts, just barely dipping beneath—teasing, testing.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve been aching to touch you.”
I arch into him, back bowing in silent plea, each nerve ending lighting up in anticipation. His hand finally trails exactly where I need him to.
“Fuck, Ramona, you’re so wet.” The gravel in his tone sends a shiver down my spine. The first touch nearly undoes me, two fingers circling slowly as he trails his lips along my neck. He takes his time, reveling in every reaction I give him.
His fingers move with more purpose now, the rhythm deepening, drawing heat low in my belly—tight, urgent, impossible to ignore. Every slow, deliberate stroke pulls me closer to the edge, unraveling me one breath at a time.
I reach behind me, my hand sliding down until I find him through the thin fabric of his shorts.
He responds instantly—growling a curse that vibrates against my neck as his teeth graze the sensitive skin there.
The bite is just sharp enough to steal my breath, but he soothes the sting with a kiss.
Another soft, involuntary sound slips past my lips, and his mouth hovers at my neck.
“Shhh,” he warns.
I reach up and gently remove his hand from my mouth, my voice barely above a breath.
“You keep telling me to be quiet,” I tease, “but you’re the one talking.”
His eyes spark, that crooked smirk curling at the edge of his lips.
“Then shut me up.”
A flush of heat spirals through me. Matching his smirk, I twist in the narrow space of the bunk, carefully shifting until I’m facing him. Our eyes meet and hold, noses nearly brushing, uneven breath mingling in the warm, charged air between us.
My lips find his in a kiss that silences us both—slow at first, all tension and electricity—then deeper, hungrier, as our hands continue to stroke each other in the dark.
The kiss is searing, our tongues demanding, desperate.
He tastes me like he’s starved for it, like he needs this as much as I do.
My whole body melts into him, ignited, lost in the fire he’s lighting under my skin.
His skin is unbelievably smooth beneath my fingers, warmth pulsing beneath the surface as I wrap my hand around him. The way he reacts—hips shifting as I swallow his moan. Our mouths stay fused, breath and need tangling as our bodies move in sync, chasing that rising edge together.
Then he slips two fingers inside me with a slow thrust that has my breath catching hard. When he curls them just right, pleasure pulses through me so fast, so sharp, I can’t stop the cry that escapes.
“Elias.”
He quickly presses his hand over my mouth again, his voice a rough whisper against the shell of my ear.
“As much as I want to hear you scream my name, you’ve got to keep it down, baby.”
The growl in his tone paired with the endearment sends another shiver coursing through me, and I nod beneath his touch, doing my best to stay quiet even as my body trembles.
Our bodies move together in rhythm, breath ragged, pulses racing.
I buck against his hand as he matches my pace, and within moments we both tumble over the edge—lost in the storm we’ve built between us.
My teeth sink into his palm to muffle the sound threatening to break free, and I feel the warmth of him spill against my hand, evidence of how completely we’ve unraveled each other.
As the aftershocks ripple through me, Elias softens his touch, guiding me back down with careful strokes and whispered kisses pressed to my cheek, my temple, the corner of my mouth.
Slowly, he pulls his hand away, and I do the same, lifting my fingers to my lips with a teasing glint in my eyes.
I suck them clean, watching as his pupils darken, breath catching in his throat.
“Holy fuck,” he rasps while mirroring my motion, bringing his tattooed fingers to his mouth, groaning low as he tastes me, his eyes locked on mine like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
“I knew you were naturally good at everything,” I whisper, half-teasing, voice still heavy with heat.
He lets out a quiet laugh and buries his face in the curve of my shoulder, chest rising and falling against my back.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Flowers,” he says kissing up my neck.
I lie still for a while, cocooned in the haze of afterglow, his body warm and steady behind me. There are no words, no need for them—just the rhythm of our breathing and the kind of closeness that speaks louder than anything we could say.
Eventually, I start to shift, carefully untangling myself, reluctant but knowing I should return to my own bunk before we risk anyone noticing. I barely make it an inch before I feel his arm tighten around my waist, pulling me back with insistence.
“Stay with me,” he murmurs against my ear, half command, half plea.
I turn in his arms, meeting his eyes in the dim light. He cups my face, brushing his thumb over my cheek. There’s something vulnerable in his gaze, something that tugs at the center of me.
“What about the guys?” I whisper.
“I’ll wake you before anyone else is up,” he says, voice low and sure. “I’m always the first one awake.”
A smile tugs at my lips as the last of my hesitation melts away.
“Okay,” I breathe, settling fully into him.
My fingertips glide over the skin of his chest, mapping the curves and textures beneath the ink.
The intricate wings that stretch across his skin are beautiful.
I trace the heart featured in the center adorned with a cursive ‘J’.
I feel the subtle ridges of healed skin, uneven and jagged in places underneath, it catches my attention.
I follow the edge of one with my finger, slowly tracing the contour of a feathered line. My voice is quiet when I speak, barely more than a breath.
“Can I ask what happened?”
His gaze shifts, breaking away from mine, and the silence in the space deepens. The spark dims behind his amber eyes, replaced by something heavier.
“I was in a house fire when I was a kid,” he says finally, each word feeling like it’s pulled from somewhere deep.
I shift, propping myself up on my elbow so I can see him better. He doesn’t look at me right away, and I don’t rush him. There’s an exposure in his silence, a vulnerability that presses into the air between us.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” I offer softly. “Not unless you want to. But… I’m here. Always.”
His eyes flicker back to mine, and for a moment, the wall drops—just enough to let the truth linger in the quiet.
“I know. Thank you.”
And that’s enough. For now.
I nuzzle back into the curve of his neck and let my body melt into his, draping one leg over his. The rhythm of his heartbeat under my cheek lulls me further into contentment, sleep tugging gently at my edges.
I stir in the predawn hush to the gentle brush of lips trailing across my cheekbone, then my jaw. The delicate scrape of teeth grazes my neck, pulling a breathy hum from my throat.
“Ramona,” Elias hums, his voice low and rough with sleep, the kind of tone that makes my toes curl.
I shift against him instinctively, the heat of him pressed along my back as his fingers sweep a few strands of hair from my face.
“What time is it?” I whisper.
He leans over and checks the watch on my wrist.
“4:15.”
A groan escapes me as I bury my face into him. Every bone in my body wants to melt into him further and drift right back to sleep.
He laughs low as he brushes his lips behind my ear, “If you want to keep our little secret, you’ve gotta sneak back to your own bunk, sweetheart.”
Reluctantly, I peel myself from the cocoon of his warmth and tiptoe across the narrow corridor, slipping into Jasper’s bunk. Elias watches me with that small smirk I could become addicted to, sleep-mussed hair, boxer briefs hanging low on his hips, and shadows still clinging to his jaw.
He changes clothes and disappears through the bus doors a moment later, heading out for his sunrise run like some kind of sexy, tortured god. I collapse into the borrowed blankets, a grin still ghosting across my lips, and doze off again.