Page 23 of Safe (King’s Heart #1)

Grant

Something has switched inside of me.

I’m always the dominant one. The one in charge. In all things, really, but especially in sex.

But there’s something about Landon. When he tells me what to do, I feel… safe.

Something I come close to feeling when everything is in order.

When I’m the one calling the shots.

When no one knows.

When I’m far away from everything that was before.

But apparently with fucking poor, dirty Landon, it’s different. He’s in charge, and making everything in my brain messy and chaotic, but it feels fine. It feels good. For once.

It’s all really fucking with me—making old stuff bubble up. More than it usually does.

I stretch my hand, looking down at the barbed wire across my knuckles.

Even though he’s causing this unrest in me—this crisis—I crave more of him. I need more.

The first time something happened between us, I did everything I could to avoid him.

I got the fuck out of our room right after Landon left and stayed the night at Javi’s house until his stepdad found me in the morning and started acting like a prick as usual—kicking me out.

After that, I walked around aimlessly—spent a few hours on a park bench.

It hasn’t gotten that cold yet, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Ended up sleeping in my car the next two nights.

And I honestly didn’t care. Anything to not have to sleep by him.

To smell his skin in the air and be tempted to let him sink his claws into me again.

But now, after the second time I’ve let him dominate me, there’s no denying what this is, even if I don’t quite understand it.

He’s something I’ve been chasing ever since I stepped into that house when I was ten.

Ever since I learned my parents were dead and Uncle Nate was all I had in the world.

Ever since I landed in the hospital that first time.

I swipe my keycard in front of our door, quietly opening it and slipping inside.

It’s four in the morning.

I did as much random shit as I could so I didn’t have to come back here right away.

But now, I’m out of things to do. And besides, I want to talk to him about this. Propose something, I guess.

The moonlight streams in from the opened curtains, barely guiding me through the room until I’m standing by his bed where he sleeps peacefully. He’s laying on his front, his skin luminous against the light as his back gently rises and falls.

I kick at the bed frame.

He murmurs a little, shifting to lay on his side but still not waking up.

I kick it again. “Hey, Fuckface.”

He startles awake, eyes blinking wildly into the darkness. “What? Huh? Grant?” he rattles off.

Squinting his eyes, he sits up, letting his blankets pool around his waist, exposing more of his smooth skin to the moonlight. My eyes greedily devour the sight—trailing down his chiseled form.

“What the fuck are you doing? What do you want?” he grouses sleepily.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out, and I quickly snap it shut, because what the fuck am I thinking? Am I out of my mind? Have I forgotten everything I’ve perfectly crafted? Everything that his presence will fucking decimate.

All because of a feeling he gives me?

I’m fucking pathetic.

But I still don’t move.

And something rises in my throat.

“Let’s fuck.”

It flies out of my mouth.

He stares at me a moment. A dip forming in his brow as the cogs in his brain process what I’ve said. Then he smiles.

My insides take a vicious rollercoaster ride from high to low when that smile turns into a full belly laugh. “You’re kidding, right?” he asks around the laughter spilling out of his mouth.

“No,” I answer.

The smile disappears and his face screws up before he whips the covers off of himself and stands out of bed, speaking as he walks past me. “Well, then no.”

My brow scrunches as I turn to watch him. “What do you mean, no?”

He roughly pulls some gym shorts on and spins back to me, stepping in close. Close enough for me to notice how the smell of his skin makes me feel dizzy and drunk.

“I mean ffffffuck no.” He pulls his fleshy bottom lip through his teeth, making sure to emphasize the “F” in fuck. Some of his spit hits my face. I want more of that. I want it in my mouth. On my hole. On my dick.

God, I should be ashamed of how desperate my thoughts sound. But I just don’t care. I need it.

I can’t really think of what else to say, so I just watch him get dressed for the gym, until his motions stutter and he looks at me with confusion on his face. “Why?” he asks.

“Huh?”

“Why?” he repeats more forcefully. His voice rising angrily as he continues.

“Don’t be an idiot, Grant. You could find anyone else to hook up with.

Why do you try to come to me? You fucking hate me.

You punched me. You insulted me. You got my mom fired.

You locked me in that goddamn room with that demon horse.

You hung her fucking mugshot in front of the whole school! Why. Me?”

Because you settle me. Because you feed a deep part of me that I thought had been killed off. I don’t understand it, but you do. And I need it. I need that feeling.

You make me feel safe.

Safe. Safe. Safe. Safe.

I can’t say any of that.

I’m silent—practically choking to keep it all inside.

He sighs, picking up his bag and walking away from me.