Page 25

TWENTY-FIVE

WHAT A PAIR

Theo

Natalie was limp in my arms, which were shaking almost as violently as her legs.

Until I could control my shaking limbs and my breathing, I laid there, poised above her.

The last thing I wanted to do was pull out of her, but eventually my cock slipped free, and I stood on unsteady legs. Watching my cum spill out of her stretched hole was almost enough to make my cock stir back to life. But the mascara running down her cheeks and the red blooming across her chest and thighs made me think twice.

Instead, I scooped her into my arms and walked us into her bathroom. Without letting her go, I stepped into the dark, luxurious shower and turned on the water. While we waited for it to warm, I held her closer and buried my nose in her hair.

She still smelled like her—sweet and warm—but she smelled like me, too. And god, it would be a shame to wash away that perfect scent that was the essence of us. But the warm water was calling my name, and I stepped under the stream and carefully set Natalie on her feet.

I tilted her head back into the water and drug my fingers through her hair. She kept her eyes closed as I pumped shampoo into my hands and lathered it into her dark locks. With steam surrounding us, I washed her hair and her body, and she returned the favor. She demanded that I kneel down so she could wash my hair, and while she rinsed the shampoo, I ate her pussy until she came all over my tongue.

I shut the water off and wrapped her in a towel, carrying her back to bed between her giggles and arguments that she was capable of walking. She crawled under the comforter, and I followed her with the intention of only staying a few minutes until she undoubtedly fell asleep like I usually did. But her sweet voice, her soft, warm body curled against mine, and her idle hands tracing the patterns of my tattoos were too tempting.

Each night it had grown harder and harder to leave. Somehow, I managed to convince myself that slipping from her bed was best for us both. It was that final line, the last boundary we had yet to cross for our own good.

For the past week or two, I’d awoken with my hands searching the bed beside me, slipping over the empty sheets for something that wasn’t there. Her. And each time I realized she wasn’t there, it was nearly impossible to fall back asleep.

If I could, I would have built a wall so thick and high that nothing could touch us. A wall so impenetrable that it wouldn’t matter what we did behind it or what happened on the other side.

But it was a dream and the furthest thing from reality I could imagine.

Until Natalie fell asleep on my chest, and I lay there awake for nearly an hour trying to will myself to leave. I did as I always had, running through the reasons why I couldn’t stay for both her sake and my own. And what it would mean if I did stay, especially for the first time after all this time. It would be a statement, a claim that I was dying to make on the woman in my arms. But I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to.

Through clouds of thick emotions, I considered maybe she’d want to be mine. Maybe she’d decide that it would be worth it.

But that felt like another far-off dream.

Finally, I decided. I began to slip from the bed, my muscles fighting with the wrongness of it all. I circled my fingers around her wrist and started to lift it away from my chest when she tightened her hold on me. Then she mumbled something I didn’t quite catch. I froze when she said it again.

“Stay,” she muttered sleepily, her black hair a dark halo across her pillow.

I already didn’t want to leave and her subconscious, sleepy plea obliterated what little fight I had left.

She told me to stay, so I stayed.

When I woke up, I was greeted by Natalie’s warm lips against my jaw. Her nails followed, dragging through my stubble, down my neck and my chest.

I reveled in the feel of her hands on me, and when I opened my eyes, I found her staring up at me. Blue eyes still bleary from sleep, I could faintly make out the smile curving her lips with the help of the small stream of sunlight filtering through the window.

She held me hostage in those moments when we were both still waking, letting the sleep fall away. As we both realized that I’d stayed and what that could mean.

“You stayed,” she whispered so quietly I barely heard it over the pounding of my heart.

I breathed out through my nose and pushed her hair from where it caught on her lower lip. “I did.”

I brushed her nose with mine and whispered my lips over hers. She hummed softly, and I tasted the little sound. It was so sweet, and I went in for more, wishing to stay in that perfect, quiet, peaceful moment forever. But too soon, that moment shattered when a door somewhere else in the house slammed and raised voices followed.

Both of our eyes went wide, and I was sitting up, about to jump from the bed, when the bedroom door swung open.

Ryder stepped into the room, and his eyes bounced between us. We were both still beneath the covers so we weren’t exposed, but we were caught in the one position that we couldn’t deny.

Guilt churned in my gut while shock and shame washed over me in enormous waves.

The rage brimming behind Ryder’s eyes was palpable, and his white-knuckle grip on the doorknob was telling of all the vengeful, murderous thoughts running through his head.

I’d decided several months ago that if it came to this, I wouldn’t stop him. Ryder wasn’t a fighter, but if he wanted to beat the shit out of me, I wouldn’t swing back.

But he didn’t get a chance to even take another step in the room.

Another man, dressed in a police officer’s uniform that he didn’t deserve to wear, shoved past Ryder. A cop I didn’t recognize was hot on his tail.

“Theodore Wilde.” Not a question but a statement said with an easy, brazen arrogance. He knew exactly who I was, and he was relishing what he was about to do.

“Officer Needledick,” I quipped, the insult rolling off my tongue with the same disdain I usually conjured in his presence.

His chubby face turned beet red and his fingers tensed, reaching back for his gun like he was contemplating pulling it on me just for insulting his manhood. “Get up,” he said through clenched teeth.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Natalie, surprise blazoned across her features and her attention bounced between everyone crowded in her room.

“Whatever you have planned, at least let us get dressed first.”

Still standing in the doorway, half-hidden by the other cop, Ryder visibly tensed at the reminder that I was naked in bed with his mother. I internally cringed at the thought. But the anger already simmering in my veins strengthened when I considered that there were three other men in the bedroom and only a thin sheet hid Natalie’s naked body.

“Knowing you, I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried to leave out the window. I’m not letting you out of my sight,” the officer explained.

“Fine,” I growled and ripped the sheet off. They all averted their eyes as I quickly stood, naked as the day I was born, and scooped up my briefs.

“Hey, watch it,” my favorite officer chided. He glanced back long enough that I caught his eye and couldn’t resist the opportunity to rile him up even more.

“You like what you see, Officer?” I said ruefully as I tugged on my jeans.

“Still such a fucking asshole. Hurry the hell up.”

My anger turned white-hot when he dared to glance at Natalie, who was still clutching the sheets to her chest. I contemplated ripping his eyes out right then and there. I might have thought Ryder would have my back. But he was still glaring unwavering daggers at me.

Natalie’s clothes were too far away for her to reach, and she looked like she was about ready to rip the sheet from the bed and tie them around her body. Her confusion and concern made me spring into action.

“Turn around,” I growled and stepped around the bed.

I brushed past Officer Dumbass, and he opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a snarl. I got in his face, noting the sweat forming on his forehead.

“Try it. Fucking try it,” I warned.

His partner took a step toward us, but the officer raised his hand for him to stay where he was. He appraised me up and down, a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue before he thought better of it and snapped his mouth closed.

He didn’t try it again as I continued around the bed, collecting a T-shirt and shorts from the floor. The two officers turned around, and Ryder dropped his eyes to the floor.

“Come on, baby girl.”

Natalie eyed my outstretched hand and glanced over my shoulder. Her eyes hardened, and she tugged the blankets tighter around her before she stood and walked into the bathroom to my left.

“Do not follow her in there, son,” Officer Shithead warned from behind me.

I handed the clothes to Natalie and reached to close the door. She took the clothes with one hand but stopped the door with the other.

“What are they doing here?” she asked, and I intentionally didn’t look at her. Instead, I stared down at where her small hand and red-painted nails shook as she held the clothes I’d just given her.

I knew that this was it. It was the end. It had come sooner than I’d hoped, but we couldn’t resist it now. And it would be easier to let the end pass if I didn’t watch the same realization cross her face.

“I don’t know but get dressed. I’ll figure it out.”

I tugged on the doorknob, but she pushed against the door harder.

“Theo.” She’d only whispered my name, but the emotion within it nearly made me push her back into the bathroom and kiss her until she was moaning my name instead. I clenched my jaw so hard, fighting against the urge, that my teeth ached.

“Get dressed,” I said and tugged on the door again. She stepped back and let me close the door with a soft click.

The kind officer barely gave me a second to turn around before he was stepping toward me, cuffs in his outstretched hand. “I’ve been waiting to do this again for a while,” he drawled with a smile, and I should’ve been more surprised with what he said next. “Theodore Wilde, you are under arrest for breaking and entering and attempted arson. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say…”

I tuned him out after I heard—and felt—the cuffs click closed. He made sure they were extra tight, and Ryder seemed to enjoy my pained expression when the officer walked me down the hallway and right past him.

The officer shoved me down the stairs, muttering something about me being worthless and a waste of space.

The perp walk out the front door and down the sidewalk would surely be the talk of the neighborhood for weeks to come. Especially with Ms. Morris peeking out her living room window and another one of the neighbors conveniently trimming their rose bushes at a little past six in the morning on a Sunday.

“Get in,” the officer instructed, and he didn’t miss the opportunity to shove me inside the car. Without my hands to catch me, my head slammed into the top of the frame before I fell onto the seat. The door slammed closed behind me, and my head immediately began throbbing. I struggled to sit up as he climbed in the front seat. He was talking about how meaningless my life was again, but I wasn’t listening.

I’d caught sight of her. Natalie was standing on the front porch, arms wrapped around her middle, only wearing the thin T-shirt and cotton shorts I’d shoved at her. The despair and regret plastered on her beautiful face were enough to make my withered and dead heart shatter in a million pieces.

“What a pair the two of you are,” the officer muttered as he pulled away from the curb. “Lying to your best friend and her son. You’re a stupid punk, and she’s just a fucking whore.”