Page 24 of Resist Me Not (Bloody Desires #4)

“I’m glad. This is all I want from you, Walker. All I want for you. I am not used to feeling this way, and it is indeed really nice.”

He says it so adorably that I have to laugh.

There is something different about him. Not just because I know more, but he is carrying himself differently.

I think it’s the lack of the walls he must put up to keep people from knowing him too well.

I didn’t even realize there were walls until seeing him without them.

Trey lifts a foot and brushes his toes along my ribs.

“Hey.” I grab it. “I’m ticklish.”

“I didn’t notice that last night.”

I try to tickle him on the bottom of his foot, but he doesn’t even flinch.

Naturally.

I ease the foot back into the water but keep my hand on it, stroking his skin.

“I am ,” I say, “but only right here.” I touch my other hand to that same spot on my ribs.

“Noted. I’ll be sure to avoid that then. Unless you enjoy a good tickle?”

“Not that kind.”

He huffs with a smirk.

I’m still twisted up inside about so much of what’s between us but lounging in a warm bath with our usual rapport not having lost a beat makes me feel even more tingly than how hard Trey made me come last night.

I really want to kiss him.

“Does my good boy want another kind of tickle to do something about our shared encumbrances?”

That we haven’t done something about them yet is only making me harder.

“Still waiting for me to direct you, doctor?”

No one else has ever used my title with sex dripping from the word like candle wax. “Maybe.”

“Do you want me to?”

I know how he wants me to respond. And I know I really want to say it. “Yes… Daddy.”

“Good boy.” Trey holds me with his black stare. “Come here and sit in Daddy’s lap so I can help.”

My cock throbs at the command, and the idea of relief in Trey’s lap sounds absolutely amazing.

I shift my legs beneath me to drift toward his side of the tub and climb on top of him.

I feel my way up Trey’s body from thighs to stomach, chest, and shoulders, and wind my arms around his neck.

The brush of our cocks is muted in the water, but friction is friction, and it feels so good .

I give a little buck against him as I settle in, and he grips me by the hips.

“Kiss me,” he orders.

Yes .

I capture what I already wanted, starting soft, delicate, but I quickly push the kiss deeper with a slide of my tongue. We kiss like that for what feels like three songs worth, until I start to unconsciously rock, grinding our cocks together.

Trey barely has to move, barely can with me on top of him, but his grip on my hips helps to move me, urging me to go faster. He hoists me higher, getting his hands up under me, and starts to finger me.

I moan into his mouth and have to pause for breath, leaning my cheek against his forehead.

Trey lifts me higher , fingers thrusting inside me, and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth.

Fuck . Now I’m the one who can’t move, but just like how Trey had me lifted to fuck me against that padded headboard, he maneuvers my body with ease, rocking me against him, while his fingers pry me open.

I don’t even think he’s stretching me so he can fuck me, just enjoying playing with my ass and how it’s making me squirm.

Trey grinding up into me through it all keeps me continuously breathless. Maybe a little too breathless, because I’m… starting to gasp.

“ Breathe , Walker,” Trey says with a lick up my neck. The order is somehow almost as effective as a puff on my inhaler. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, my good boy… and I am going to keep you and take care of you and unravel you for as long as you allow.”

I come. I come so fast and so suddenly, I don’t even realize it until the aftershocks hit me.

I melt against Trey, limp and letting him continue to sink his fingers inside me and rock me against his cock.

Even under the water, my release helps smooth the slide of our skin.

I don’t mind the heightened sensitivity of already finishing.

It’s all such instant relief, like Trey promised he’d give me, to feel something good after all this insanity.

When Trey comes it’s with a bite on the nipple he had been suckling, a pinch not hard enough to hurt that makes me moan and turn my head to bite the side of his neck.

Like we’re marking each other. Claiming each other.

My hips give another little stutter as if my cock might spring back to life.

Maybe later. I really want more than Trey’s fingers inside me again.

He leaves them there for a long time, while we come down from our releases. My cock is definitely half hard again when he finally slips his fingers free and kisses me.

“More soon, doctor,” Trey whispers. “More any time you want it. But for now, shall I clean us up and take you to bed for a nice long massage?”

If he finishes by massaging my inside again, absolutely. “Yes, please,” I answer and look him right in the eyes when I finish with, “Daddy.”

“Good boy,” he answers and kisses me again.

Trey takes care of everything, and I’m in a blissful haze all the way until I’m lying naked on my bed, face down, while Trey rubs my shoulders and back.

I’m boneless and weightless and… happy with how my mind has quieted.

It’s nice to not think for a while, to just feel and surrender to how well he takes care of me.

He really does.

He really does…

“I love your choice of ink, doctor, ever since I first saw a peek of it,” Trey says, tracing his fingers up and down my spine over my tattoo.

“I forget it’s there sometimes,” I admit. “I got it when I was accepted into med school. It’s supposed to be a symbol of strength. My job is the foundation of everything I am, everything I want to be and do with my life, and I can never let myself be broken by it.”

“That’s beautiful. Poetic. Elegant.” Trey continues to massage me but pauses to press his lips to the small of my back. “Just like you.”

His words warm me all over again, like we never left the bath. “No one has ever called me those things before.”

“Not even beautiful? Travesty.”

I chuckle but start to wonder something and peer back at Trey. “Is that why you like me? Because you think I’m beautiful.”

“Inside and out,” he says. I must look a little spooked by the wording, because he adds, “That does not mean I plan to open you up, Walker. Well, in one way, many, many more times, I hope.” He drags his hands down over the mounds of my ass.

I hope for that too. Then, before I even realize the words are leaving me, and with Zappy silently judging me from the bedside table, I say, “Trey, the detective on Curtis’s case called me before you got here.”

His hands still. “Thank you for admitting that to me. What did he say?”

I tell him. I tell him everything. And Trey calmly coaches me on what to say tomorrow.

I take it all in a little numbly, because if I actually protect Trey, it’ll be the second time I actively choose to not turn in a serial killer.

It’ll fully make me complicit. I could say I was compelled before, that I feared for my life, but tomorrow, Trey will already be out of town.

I’ll be safe. Free to let my conscience guide me instead.

But I don’t think I want to.

The mood that had been leading to a round two is a little ruined after that, so instead of staying in the bedroom, we get dressed in comfortable clothes—which is weird, seeing Trey in sweats and a T-shirt—and watch a movie, almost like a normal date.

And not some American Psycho , Seven , or Zodiac flick.

We actually throw on Miss Congeniality .

It’s a good comfort movie! And it’s just as much a comfort the way Trey cuddles me while we watch it.

I’m a little annoyed how tired I am once the movie is over, because when Trey brings me to bed again, I pass out almost immediately, and he has to leave for the airport too early the next morning for any carnal activities then.

I sleep so good with him beside me though.

Too good. Almost as if I didn’t have so much weighing on me.

The next morning, I’m back in sweats waiting for Trey to get out of the shower so we can say goodbye—until next time. I’m trying to pick something out to wear before I take my shower after him and accidentally knock his wallet off the top of the dresser.

It lands open face down, so it’s impossible to not see inside it when I pick it up. The usual ID and credit cards are there, but something else catches my eye.

He has one of the photos of me he took in the park that day. I had to beg Curtis to carry a photo of me, and he only did it reluctantly, thinking it was lame. Trey did it all on his own.

I take the picture out to study it more closely. It’s actually a really good photo of me, and it makes me smile that he’d want to carry it around. It makes me smile… until I notice that the man he murdered is in the background.

I sit on the bed to keep my knees from going weak. It’s not evidence exactly, but it is a pretty sobering reminder. Then, since I’m holding the picture, I see that there is another one of me behind it. I take that one out too. I know this photo but Trey didn’t take it.

Bryan did.

This is the photo Curtis carried in his wallet. It’s snipped so Curtis is cut out of it now, but I know it’s the same photo. I have copies, and this was the only one I printed of this size.

This is evidence. Isn’t it? It’s proof Trey had a hold of Curtis’s wallet at some point.

I hear the shower turn off and quickly try to put everything back the way it was with Trey’s wallet on the dresser.

I have to stay calm. I have to stay focused.

I have to think this through. My future, my life is on the line, with multiple winding pathways, each going a direction I can’t predict.

Is Trey enough as he is to keep me on the path with him, even knowing he kills people, whether they deserve it or not?

I’m not sure anymore what I’m going to do when I see the detective, but for now, I don’t put the snipped photo of me that used to belong to Curtis back in Trey’s wallet.

I slip it into the pocket of my sweats.