Page 22 of Faded Rhythm

Julian

Sable is knocked out.

I should be, too. Long day ahead. But I’m not. My mind is racing too much.

The room is quiet except for the steady whisper of the air conditioner. My eyes are fixed to the ceiling, searching for something…sleep. Peace. Normalcy. I don’t know, but whatever it is, I’m not finding it up there.

I blow out a sigh. I feel pinned down, like the weight of the night is pressing down on my chest. And I can usually deal with that feeling just fine. The aftermath of a kill or the sting of a mission that didn’t go quite right; I’ve felt it all before and come out just fine on the other side.

But this?

This is different.

This is the heaviness of having said too fucking much.

I still can’t believe I told her about the compound. The woman. Things I’ve kept locked up so tight I forgot how much they still hurt.

But she listened. She didn’t judge me.

Then again, I didn’t tell her everything.

I turn my head to look at her, my gaze landing on the curve of her bare shoulder, glowing in the dim, gray light of the moon. Her lips are slightly parted, her lashes fluttering occasionally. She looks peaceful. Innocent. But I know there’s something beneath that softness. A fire. A determination.

And something worse.

Something treacherous.

I didn’t miss the way Brett used that word. I stole the nigga’s money, so it makes sense to use it to describe me. But what did she do? That’s the hundred-thousand dollar question.

It won’t be answered tonight, though. And I’m not even sure it matters. And if it matters, I don’t think I care. Not after experiencing her. Not now that I know just how fucking good she feels.

I still hear her soft voice in my head, urging me to cum inside her, to enjoy myself for once. And I damn sure did. Because being inside her…it unraveled me.

I’m fully compromised now. And not even because I had sex with her. It’s because I felt something.

I shift closer. Just a little at first so I don’t disturb her.

Then, more. She’s drawing me to her like a magnet.

My chest presses against her bare back. My knees slide behind hers.

I drape my arm over her waist and smile when she lets out a quiet sigh in her sleep.

Then she melts into me like she was waiting for this in her dreams.

I smell her everywhere. Warm skin. Lavender.

The lingering musk of sex. I bury my face in the back of her neck, nuzzling the delicate space behind her ear.

I let my fingertips trace over her body, exploring the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip, the back of her thigh.

Her skin is so fucking soft. Like silk warmed by the sun.

I move slowly, savoring every inch I can reach, mapping her like she’s a destination I have to reach.

My eyes close, and for one brief second, I let myself imagine something impossible.

A life with her.

Some Brady Bunch shit.

They loved that show over there. That, and Happy Days .

Our TVs played them constantly. Those people were family.

Smiling and happy. It was as foreign to me as the country I was stationed in.

But maybe life can really be like that. Maybe I could have her in my arms like this every day, without the shadow of death hanging over us.

We could laugh. We could make love. And she’d feel safe.

I’m hard just thinking about it.

I press a kiss to the back of her neck, slow and deliberate. Then another, just below her ear. She stirs slightly, murmuring something I can’t make out.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers into the darkness.

“I can’t sleep,” I murmur, lips brushing her skin.

She turns her head slightly, and I take the invitation. Another kiss, softer this time, just below her jaw.

“Can I make you cum?” I ask.

She hums, “Mm hm,” in response, and it sounds like music.

I slip beneath the covers, easing between her legs. She parts them without hesitation, welcoming me. I kiss my way up her inner thighs, finding her pussy warm and wet. I tell myself she was dreaming about me. And this.

She said she likes slow, so I take my time with her. I lick. I suck. I french kiss her pussy. I tease and taste as she arches into me, rolling her hips, one hand on my head and the other twisted in the sheets. My dick pulses hard when she moans my name.

When she cums, her trembling thighs clamp tight around my head while the sounds she makes carve themselves into my brain. It’ll be nice to have a good memory in there for once. Something pleasurable I can flash back to.

I kiss my way back up her body. She pulls me in, in every way. Arms, legs, and pussy. They all invite me, and once again, I oblige.

I go slow again. Deep.

But I concentrate this time. Not on how wet and tight she is.

I’m staring at her face, her expressions, gazing into her eyes to see if I feel something again.

She teased me about being a machine before, but that’s lowkey how I feel sometimes.

Even something this good is more cerebral than I want it to be.

The physical feels fucking amazing, but I want the mental and emotional, too. I need it all.

Her eyes lock on mine, and something unspoken passes between us. It’s something that feels real to me, but also fragile. Maybe even dangerous. But it’s a feeling, so I take it. File it away.

She wraps her legs around me again. I cradle her face in my hands. We don’t speak. We just feel .

I stroke her harder. Fuck, she feels so good.

Faster. I play with her nipples until they stiffen.

She grabs my chin and pulls me close enough to suck my tongue into her mouth.

She swallows my groans, nails digging into my back.

I’m fucking her now, losing control, bucking like a wild animal in heat.

It feels desperate and unhinged on both sides, but her moans tell me she likes it. We both do.

She lets out a scream when I hit a spot deep inside her. I bring a hand to her throat, letting it linger there, a promise of things to come and maybe a testing of the waters. Her eyes flash with something wild, then she locks her ankles again and I know…I’m not the only one who has a dark side.

“Look at you taking this dick,” I murmur. “I’m surprised.”

“Why?”

“You’re not as innocent as you look.”

“I look innocent?” she asks, smiling slyly. “If you say so.”

I don’t have time to think about what that look on her face could possibly mean before her eyes roll back and she cums again, whining and writhing against me. I hold back as long as I can, but I have to pull out. I’m too close, and I don’t want this to end yet. I like it too fucking much.

The first rays of sun are bleeding through the blinds by the time we finish. We’re both panting, spent, our skin flushed and dewy with sweat. My body is vibrating with satisfaction, but my mind is still. Peaceful.

It’s an odd feeling.

We doze for a while before I’m awakened by her voice.

“Hey, baby.”

I open my eyes at the sound of the maternal tone.

“Did you sleep okay?”

There’s a pause, then her whole body goes still.

“What did he say?” she asks, sitting up.

I sit up, too, on high alert.

“How? I have your phone!”

Her eyes flicker over to me, and I see more terror in them than I did the moment I stuck my gun in her back.

She listens for a few moments longer, then modulates her voice as best she can.

“Okay. No, it’s fine. I love you.”

She stares at me, her eyes wide and filled with panic. “He messaged Kelice on her tablet.”

“What did he say?” I’m already on my feet, grabbing a shirt out of my bag.

“He said he’d see her soon,” she says, her voice rising. “That was a threat, Julian!”

“I know. Get dressed.”

I don’t tell her this, but that was more than a threat. It’s a trap. A way to draw us out into the open. But I don’t care. I’m built for this shit, and if he lays one finger on those girls, I won’t hesitate to put his ass in his fucking grave.