Decker

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Decker Page 11

by Summers, Eden


  She shrank my shirt.

  My only fucking shirt.

  The cuffs ride up my forearms, tight as sutures. And I can only clasp the bottom three buttons across my stomach.

  “Perfect.” I chuckle. “Fucking perfect.”

  Keira sure as shit wasn’t joking about her lack of laundry skills.

  I don’t even bother grabbing my pants. They’re a problem I’ll have to deal with tomorrow. Instead, I scramble through the dryer and pull out something for her in the hopes the material will be just as tight and revealing.

  I grab a see-through pair of panties and a silken slip of nightwear, then stalk my ass back down the hall.

  When I don’t find her in the living area, I divert my trek to the bathroom, and lean my shoulder against the door frame to find her facing the mirror, eyes blank, mouth lax.

  She’s off with the fairies, glancing into space.

  “I’d stare too if I had a reflection like yours,” I taunt.

  Her lips quirk as she blinks to attention and turns to me. “Sure you would.”

  I hand over her clothes and watch as she slips them on too easily. Not a glimpse of fucking shrinkage in sight while she covers her tempting body. If anything, the black nightdress swims around her waist.

  “What happened to your shirt?” She eyes me up and down.

  “You happened.” I raise my arms to show the new tight fit. “I can’t even clasp the top buttons.”

  “You look…” She covers her mouth with a hand, but it doesn’t hide the laughter in her eyes.

  “Fucking ridiculous?” I ask.

  She snickers. “Kinda.”

  “Hey. Not nice.” I grab her, pulling her into me as I lean my ass against the vanity. “What are you still doing hiding in here, anyway?”

  She drags her gaze from mine and plays with my collar. “Clearing my head.”

  “What are you thinking about this time?”

  “Everything and nothing.” Her fingers graze the front of my shirt, her palms splaying across my pecs. “I want to trust you, Sebastian.”

  Wants to—meaning she currently doesn’t.

  I clench my jaw, fighting frustration.

  “Despite what you might think, it’s not easy for me to let people in. But I’m trying.” She sucks in a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh. “I haven’t had sex in years. Many years.”

  I’d make a joke if it wasn’t for her somber tone. An influx of trepidation fills the room, putting me on edge. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “And I’ve only been with two men. Three including you.”

  I nod and struggle not to shudder under the uncomfortable prickle at the back of my neck. “I appreciate you telling me.”

  “That’s not all.” Her eyes meet mine, the ocean blue stormy and turbulent. “My first sexual experience wasn’t consensual.”

  11

  Decker

  My blood turns to fire, the burn settling into my bones. “You were…”

  She nods. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say it.”

  There’s no fragility in her voice. She’s strong. Far stronger than I am at hearing the admission.

  I shake my head, still unable to finish my sentence. I can’t even say the fucking word. All I can do is pull her closer and cling tight.

  “Sebastian, really, it’s all right.” She hugs me back, comforting me when it should be the other way around. “It happened a long time ago.”

  “When?”

  “I was a child. Barely fourteen.”

  “Fuck.” The curse comes out in a rasp.

  How did I miss this information when I’ve dug into every aspect of her life?

  “Don’t worry. I’ve come to terms with my mistakes. I refuse to let it affect me anymore.”

  “Your mistakes?” I inch her away, holding her at arm’s length so I can meet her gaze. “How could you blame yourself for something like this? You were a fucking kid.”

  “I wasn’t to blame, no. But I wasn’t free from fault either. I should’ve been more careful.” She shrugs. “I trusted someone I didn’t truly know.”

  The same way I’ve been pressuring her to trust me.

  Jesus. Fuck.

  Guilt pummels me.

  I’ve pushed. I’ve manipulated. I’ve instigated a million different tactics to get what I want, not knowing what I was truly asking for.

  “That’s why I’m telling you,” she adds. “Not because I want you to pity me. Or because I need to justify my short list of lovers. I want you to know why it’s difficult for me to open up.”

  “I understand.” I’m an asshole. The biggest fucking asshole. “You don’t have to say another word.”

  I’ve made her feel obliged to cut herself open and bleed her secrets, all because I demanded her trust.

  “Do you want to take this out into the living room?” I slide along the vanity, inching toward the door as I grab her hand. “Have you eaten dinner? You must be hungry. Let me warm up the lasagna for you.”

  She grips my fingers, pulling me back. “Please don’t get weird on me now. I’m not fragile.”

  “I’m not being weird.” I attempt a smile. “And I sure as hell know you’re tough as nails.”

  “Good.” She closes in, sauntering by me in her silken nightdress. “Because I’d have to tie you to a bed and torture you for days if you started treating me like glass.”

  “Wait. That bed torture thing is an option?” I fake the joke, hoping it comes out lighthearted when my chest weighs more than a ton.

  She chuckles. “Not a good one, no.”

  “To you, maybe.” I follow her into the hall and pretend I’m not holding onto her emotional baggage tighter than she is. I can’t quit picturing what she must have gone through as I reheat her meal.

  I struggle to stop the brutal thoughts of a violated young girl as she eats.

  My sadistic imagination runs wild with the carnage, stretching out the silence into long uncomfortable minutes.

  “You’re going to have to suck it up,” she mutters around a bite of lasagna. “Stop thinking about it.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Sure.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m not the person you’re picturing, Sebastian. I haven’t been weakened by it. I’m stronger.”

  I smile despite my doubts.

  But she is strong.

  I do know that.

  I just hate that some low-life piece of shit forced her to be that way. “I wasn’t thinking—”

  “And I like sex,” she adds.

  I give her a half-hearted smile and lean forward, stretching my arm across the table to brush her wrist. “I learned that firsthand, remember?”

  Her lips quirk. “I remember.”

  I try to hold onto the companionable mood. I cling and fucking cling, but it drifts, being snatched away by more tumultuous thoughts.

  She sighs. “What part of this is eating away at you?”

  I don’t want to ask. Well, I do, but even a dumb fuck like me knows it’s inappropriate.

  “Just ask, Sebastian.”

  “Okay.” I pull my arm back and sit up straight. “You said you’ve come to terms with what happened. And that you enjoy sex, but you’ve only slept with one other guy…”

  Her actions don’t really gel with the story.

  “There are reasons for my abstinence.”

  “Do most of them revolve around having a psychotic brother?”

  She presses her lips tight, containing a laugh. “No, not a lot. The lack of talent swimming in my family’s social circles is actually the biggest reason. Then there’s the risk of sleeping with someone who is only trying to get close to Cole. Along with the whole drug thing, too.”

  “Drug thing?”

  She gives a barely-there nod. “Despite my family’s association with narcotics, I don’t approve of using, have never used myself, and I don’t want to be with anyone who does.”

  “How do you know I don’t fall into that category?” />
  She gives me a coy smile. “You’re not the only one who’s been paying attention.”

  I should be concerned. Instead, I’m turned on as all fuck. “You’ve been spying on me, sunshine?”

  “I wouldn’t call it that.” She pushes from her chair and takes the dirty plate to the sink. “I’ve just noticed you. A lot.”

  I smirk.

  “Don’t turn all cocky on me again. I’ve been doing my due diligence, that’s all.”

  I release an exaggerated sigh. “Don’t treat you like glass. Don’t get cocky. Don’t shove my dick up your ass. Jeez, Keira, you’re a bossy little thing.”

  Her cheeks darken, and those lips keep twitching in mirth. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” She walks around the kitchen and heads toward the sofa. “Come watch television with me for a while.”

  I oblige, even though the last thing I want to do is stare at anything other than her. The next few hours are spent on the corner of the sofa, her head on my lap, my hands in her hair, as a mindless sitcom plays on the screen.

  This time I play with the delicate strands without remorse. I drag my fingers through the lengths and enjoy the calm. I could easily kid myself into believing I have a sweet and innocent woman resting against me. That we could have a normal life with a normal outlook for the future.

  But none of that is true.

  We’re all guilty of a long list of crimes. And the reality of the situation is that I’ve just taken a giant leap closer to having a clip unloaded in my skull because I slept with Torian’s sister.

  Hopefully I’m lucky enough not to see the bullet coming.

  “I know you’re probably still wide awake after your fifteen-hour nap this afternoon,” she sits up and turns to face me, “but I’m wrecked. I’m going to take a shower and crawl into bed. Where do you plan on sleeping?”

  “On you.” I grin. “Sorry, I meant in bed beside you.”

  “Sure you did.” Her lips curve, but there’s little flirtation, no excitement. The mood between us is different, her playful banter replaced with committed intent.

  There’s no backing out now.

  We’re a thing. Together. And yes, that’s daunting as fuck.

  “Let me tidy up out here, and I’ll meet you in the bedroom soon.” I kiss her temple, and we both push to our feet. “Enjoy the shower.”

  She pads away, leaving me to do a full interior check of the house. I test the windows and doors, making sure they’re all secure before I start cleaning the dirty dishes in the sink.

  What I should be doing is contacting Hunter, calling Anissa, even telling Torian about the cell Keira found to make sure it’s untraceable. But I’m not ready to kill this buzz just yet.

  External influences will only drag us apart. I need to establish myself in her life before that happens.

  Once the kitchen is tidy, I turn off the television and the lights, take a quick detour to the main bathroom to brush my teeth, then make my way to the bedroom. The bedside lamp casts a dull glow over the master bed. The water echoes through the pipes in the adjoining bathroom.

  I contemplate joining her, bathing her, salivating over the sight of her body covered in rivulets of water.

  And I would, if only it didn’t feel like I was pushing my luck.

  I have to take this slow. Do things right. Make sure she’s comfortable.

  I pull back the bed covers and shuck my kiddie-sized shirt, letting it fall to the floor.

  As the water turns off, I climb into bed and wait with my hands behind my head on the pillow until she walks back into the room.

  “How was your shower?”

  “Lonely.” She gives me a pointed look before flicking off the lamp and crawling onto the other side of the mattress.

  She nestles into me, allowing me to wrap my arm behind her neck as she huddles close, her warmth sinking under my skin. The smell of soap fills my lungs. The itch of temptation twitches through my fingers.

  I haven’t had beauty in my life for a long time. Only darkness. Hatred and punishment.

  I’ve lived to work, and worked to live. Nothing else has mattered.

  Until now.

  Until Keira.

  “Are you tired?” she asks.

  “Not really. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t mind lying here with you.”

  She stretches her arm over my chest, her hand resting against my ribs. “What are we going to do tomorrow?”

  I shrug. “Hunter will meet up with us at some point, and I need to get some clothes. If you’re up to it, I think we should stock up on supplies so we don’t have to leave the house again.”

  She nods. “Okay. That sounds good to me.”

  “Is there anything you want to do?”

  She hugs me tighter. “I need to call Layla. But apart from that, I’m happy just to spend time with you. I want to get to know you better. I want to learn who you are.”

  No, she doesn’t.

  She only wants to get to know the playful Sebastian. The persona. If she knew the parts of me I keep hidden she wouldn’t be nestled this close.

  “Sebastian?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Thank you for everything today.”

  For someone entirely badass, she has a tendency of surprising me with her sweet as nectar routine. “Are you referring to me pulling a gun on you in the back yard? Or when I berated you in the car for stripping?”

  She huffs out a barely audible chuckle. “I’m talking about you listening when I needed you to.”

  “You don’t have to keep thanking me. You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.”

  “It’s starting to sink in.” She pauses, long enough to make me feel like a sappy chump. “I don’t open up to many people. It was nice to have someone to confide in. It’s as though a weight has been lifted.”

  My pulse increases.

  This, right here, is everything I’ve been waiting for since the first night I set her in my sights. I’ve wanted to carry her burdens. To be her confidant.

  “You feel like home, Sebastian,” she whispers. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

  I tug her closer. “It’s the same for me.”

  Her fingers circle over my skin, forming an intricate pattern. “There’s something else I want you to know.” Her tone holds the same ominous ring from our earlier conversation. This time I refuse to let it spook me.

  “You can tell me anything.”

  She moves her hand to my chest, her palm resting directly above my heart. “You know how my father hasn’t shown his face around here in a long time?”

  “Yeah.” I know. I’ve been watching. Everyone has. The cops, the Feds, the DEA. “He’s somewhere in the Greek Islands contemplating retirement, right?”

  “No.”

  The sharp denial piques my interest.

  I focus on my breathing, making sure it doesn’t betray my rampant curiosity. News on Luther Torian is a goldmine. One that many people would kill to gain access to. Including me. But unlike the secret she divulged earlier, I’m probably not the best person to spill Luther gossip to.

  If she isn’t comfortable with the way I taunt Cole, there’s a high probability she won’t appreciate me hating on her father.

  “He’s gone, Sebastian.”

  “Gone?” I let the question hang. “What does that mean?”

  “He’s not coming back. He’s dead.”

  I don’t react. I don’t fucking move.

  She isn’t making any sense. A man like Luther Torian doesn’t simply die without the whole world noticing.

  Her world. Our world.

  “Sebastian?”

  Shit. “I don’t know what to say.”

  I can’t give her my sympathies, because I don’t have any. Not a single one. Not for a sick motherfucker like her father. The feelings currently slamming into me aren’t anything she would want to hear about.

  She sits up, the delicate skin of her shoulders glowing red from the bedside clock.
I’m not sure what the hell is going on, but something isn’t right. She shouldn’t be blurting out this information. Not to me. Not to anyone.

  Not unless I’ve finally wormed my way under her beautiful skin.

  “I appreciate you telling me.” I reach out, strumming my fingers over her nightdress. “But why? Try as I might, you know I’m horrible at the whole comfort thing. I don’t have the first clue of what to do when it comes to other people’s grief.”

  “I don’t need your comfort. I suppose I’m finally realizing that every moment we’ve shared has revolved around you being my warrior. It started the first night we met and hasn’t stopped since. When I need protection, you’re always the provider. And right now, I need that protection more than ever.” She glances over her shoulder, her shadowed eyes meeting mine. “My family is in a really bad position, and Cole continues to keep me in the dark with all his plans. I don’t know who else to count on.”

  Victory rushes through my veins. It’s fucking pathetic at a time like this, but extracting her from the clutches of her psychotic family has always been my aim. At least as far as she’s concerned.

  And here she is doing it all on her own.

  She’s breaking the tight leash her brother chained around her neck.

  She’s starting to take drastic actions to revolt.

  Praise the fucking Lord.

  “Tell me what to do, Sebastian.”

  I fight to focus on her instead of the celebratory dance running riot in my head. “It’s okay.” I tug her down, reclaiming her at my side. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ll keep you safe.”

  “Do you really believe that? Everything is such a mess at the moment.”

  “It will get better. I promise.”

  Problem is, it’s going to get a whole lot worse before that rainbow beams down its pot of gold.

  Once Luther’s death is broadcasted to Torian’s enemies, we’re all in trouble—Hunter, Sarah, and every other son of a bitch who works for Cole.

  There will be a fight for power. A struggle with anyone who wants to take over the multi-million-dollar drug trade in Oregon, along with the innumerable illegal contracts that bring a huge amount of money to the family.

 

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