Page 31 of Quiet Rage (Wicked Falls Elite #5)

Kellen

I can feel her resolve crumbling. Her walls are coming down slowly, and she is giving into the idea of us being together. She is beginning to let go of all the fucked up shit I did to her so we can start over.

I scan her face for any signs of fear, but she simply looks content. Her shoulders are relaxed, and her chest rises and falls at a leisurely pace. Earlier, she even laughed a little. It wasn’t fake or forced, either. It was genuine and came naturally.

“I’m stuffed,” Tamson announces, holding her hand over her stomach.

“Me too,” I lie. I could eat the rest of this and then some, but I want her to have plenty of leftovers. It bothers me knowing she has so little food here. How the fuck does she live like this?

I meant what I told her. I want to take care of her in every way possible. Financially, physically, and emotionally. I care about her in a way I never cared about anyone before. When I’m with her, I’m a different person. I’m the person that I want to be.

We close the containers and put them into the fridge. Tamson places our glasses in the sink before we make our way back to her room.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a message from my dad has come through. My mood darkens as I read the text.

Dad: I need you at the Den tomorrow.

My chest feels heavy. What am I’m going to have to do this time? Whatever it is, it’s never good.

I don’t respond. I don’t have to. He knows I’ll be there. Shoving the phone back in my pocket, I forget about tomorrow and concentrate on the here and now.

“Is everything okay?” Tamson asks, real concern lacing her voice.

“Yeah,” I assure her. “Everything is fine.”

“What do you want to do now?” Her question is innocent, but my mind immediately goes into the gutter. I want to strip her naked and fuck her again, but I don’t want to push her, either. However, maybe I could get at least some of her clothes off.

“How about I give you a massage?” I suggest, hoping she’ll go for it.

She thinks about it for a moment. “Like a back massage?”

“Yeah,” I confirm.

“Okay,” she finally agrees.

“Do you have some body lotion or something like that?”

“Sure, hold on.” She disappears into the bathroom and returns with a bottle of lotion in her hand. I take it from her and flip the top open.

She gives me a nervous look, biting her bottom lip as she grabs the hem of her shirt to pull it off her body. I’ve seen all of her before but she is still shy about being naked. She turns around and unhooks her bra, letting it fall to the ground with her shirt.

I squirt some lotion on my palm, while watching Tamson crawl onto the bed to lie down on her stomach. I set the bottle down on her nightstand and take a seat on the edge of the bed. Her head is turned to the other side, so unfortunately I can’t see her face to gauge what she is thinking right now.

Rubbing my hands together, I warm up the lotion before placing my palms on her shoulders. Keeping my touch light, I massage her stiff muscles gently. My fingers glide over her smooth skin, and I just enjoy touching her. I let my hands run down her back, tracing over her spine with my thumbs.

I repeat the motions a few times, making sure to give every part of her back equal attention. It doesn’t take long for her to relax under my touch.

I’m so fucking thankful she is letting me do this. The need to touch her is constant. Being able to do it now without her resistance feels like a soothing balm on an open wound.

Taking my time, I rub and knead every inch of her back. I do it for so long, I have to reapply lotion twice. When I get ready to reach for the bottle again, she turns her head on the pillow to look at me. Her eyes are hooded, and her cheeks are a hue of red. She gives me a lazy smile.

“So…do you want a turn?” she asks shyly, surprising me with her offer.

The thought of her hands on me in any way is both exciting and dangerous. I want her touch more than anything, but how much of that can I take before I lose control? I hope I can hold on to my sanity, because no matter the danger, I can’t bring myself to turn her down, either.

“I’d love a turn,” I admit.

She pushes herself up from the bed and sits back on her thighs, making room for me.

I try not to stare at her tits as I pull my shirt off and throw it on the ground.

I don’t miss how Tamson’s eyes curiously linger on my chest, before I lay down on my stomach.

She reached over me to grab the lotion from the nightstand.

I eagerly wait for her touch, the anticipation making my skin hypersensitive. She scoots closer to me until her leg is pressed up against my side. Then her hands are finally on me. Her palms glide over my shoulder so softly, it feels more like a caress than a massage. I smile into the pillow.

Her fingers move over my skin hesitantly, like she is not sure which way to go or how much pressure to apply.

“Is this okay?” she asks in a hushed voice. “I’ve never done this before.”

“It feels amazing,” I tell her honestly. I seriously can’t think of anything else I would rather do than lie right here and have her delicate hands run all over my back.

I don’t want to say that this is better than sex, but damn…it’s pretty close.

She works her way up and down my spine slowly. I savor every second of it, wishing it would never end. I close my eyes and relax into the mattress.

Tamson massages me for maybe twenty minutes. It’s not enough to satisfy me, but I know she must be getting tired. I slowly stretch my arms out before rolling over on my back. I immediately miss her touch.

She sits back and looks at me like she is waiting for instructions on what to do next. I hold open my arms, gesturing for her to lie with me. She hesitates, looking unsure for a moment before deciding to go for it.

Warmth fills my chest as she moves her half-naked body around the bed. She climbs into my embrace, pressing her breasts against my side, and slinging her arm around my torso. Her cheek is flush against my chest, her breath fanning over my skin.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her even closer. Lowering my head, I bury my nose into her hair and suck a deep breath in. She smells like heaven.

Tamson giggles, her body slightly shaking in my hold. “Did you just smell me?”

“Yes,” I admit shamelessly.

“Okay, weirdo,” she says lightheartedly. “What do I smell like?”

“Something sweet and flowery,” I explain as best as I can.

“My shampoo has lavender in it. That’s probably what you are smelling.”

I don’t really care what it's called. I just know it’s my new favorite scent.

“Tell me something about yourself,” I ask, almost desperate to know everything about her. With each new piece of information, I feel the connection between us growing.

“Mmm… Christmas is my favorite holiday,” she offers. “I don’t like the cold weather around that time but I just love the atmosphere. It makes me remember being a kid and how magical everything was back then.”

I try to recall the last time I felt that kind of childlike wonder, but it’s been so long ago, I can't recall it.

“Do you guys decorate the whole house and everything?”

“We put up a few decorations and usually get a small tree, but we never put up any lights. I think my dad just doesn’t want to spend the money.

However, my parents would drive us around the rich neighborhoods and let us look at their lights,” she says like she is recalling a fond memory.

“What about you? Do you have a favorite holiday?”

“Not really. I haven't celebrated one in a really long time,” I reveal.

“How come?”

“After my mom died, we just stopped.” I remember how disappointed I was when there was no tree and no presents. I asked my dad about it once and never again. I learned my lesson the first time around.

“Maybe we can celebrate together this year,” she offers, filling my head with thoughts of us being together in the future.

“We could rent a cabin. Something with a fireplace. I would string lights all around it, and we would get a big tree.” The more I think about it the better I like this idea.

“Could we play Christmas music all day?”

“All day,” I confirm. As long as it makes her happy, I’ll listen to whatever she wants to.

It’s scary how much that matters to me now. Her happiness has become important to me. The feeling of caring about someone like this is foreign to me, but I crave more of it.

We talk like this for a long time. She tells me more about her brother, about her childhood, all her favorite things, her fear of spiders, and her dream of visiting Italy one day.

I tell her about the few fond memories I had from my childhood, and how I’ve been friends with the guys since middle school. I talk about the crazy parties Carter used to throw and how he is dating his stepsister now.

Our conversation goes on for most of the night. We cover everything from music to ice cream flavors. I memorize every little detail, soaking in everything she is willing to share.

I’m not sure what time it is, but my eyes are heavy, and Tamson hasn’t said anything in a few minutes. I’m fairly certain she is asleep, and I know I should do the same, but I don’t want this night to end. I want to stay in this bubble we have created.

I fight sleep for another few minutes, and when I finally let darkness take hold of me, it’s with the hope that tomorrow morning she’ll still be in my arms.