The Fall

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The Fall Page 19

by T Gephart


  His boxer shorts were the next thing to go, one hand whipping them off while his other stayed busy against my core.

  He was heavy on me but I didn’t ask him to move, his legs pinning my thighs open as he took his hard cock and guided it into me.

  It was fast; pushing himself deep before I was fully ready, filling me completely as my body shook underneath.

  I cried out, my body struggling to accommodate him as he thrust again, his powerful muscular arms punching either side of me as I writhed underneath.

  He bowed his neck down and caught my mouth with his, kissing me as his hips swung again, my hand wrapped around his torso as my body responded to his.

  There was nothing romantic about it; he was raw power as the muscles in his abs flexed as he moved against me. Surging faster and faster as if he was in a race against himself.

  I was hot, slick and needy for release as my hips bucked against his, the touch of his skin on me making me feel more alive than I’d ever been.

  It was too much, the desperation building inside me quickly until in a blind rush it exploded, every cell in my body tingling as the waves rushed through me.

  A second later he’d found his own release, his body shaking as the tension in his face bled out. His eyes softened as they looked down at me, his skin glistening with a thin veil of sweat.

  We didn’t talk, our chests heaving in and out as we tried to rein in our breathing.

  I couldn’t look away; he was beautiful in this light. The soft glow of the lamp beside us danced against his slick skin, the scars and marks reduced to shadows, and without his usual scowl, he looked almost kind.

  The heaviness had disappeared, the lines from his forehead relaxed. Like at that moment, he wasn’t fighting whatever war he usually was and he was still with me.

  Before I could stop myself, I raised my hand to his face, my palm flattened against his cheek. He hadn’t shaven in over a day, the hair prickling my skin as I slowly moved against him, his eyes widening as I continued to study him.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” His brow creased as he shifted.

  “Your face . . . it just looks different.” I swallowed the rest of the sentence, not sure exactly how the words would be received. I assumed telling him I thought he looked beautiful wouldn’t be seen as a compliment.

  “Yeah, well. It’s the same face it was last week.” He pushed off me in a hurry and landed flat on his back.

  “I know, I just meant . . . you looked happy?” I hadn’t meant it as a question, but once again words were not my friends. I felt like if I said anything too observant he would spook.

  “Don’t.” His face hardened as the darkness returned.

  “Don’t what?” I asked, turning onto my side to face him.

  “Whatever you are thinking right now, just don’t.”

  It was like whatever door had opened, slammed shut and took with it everything that felt good.

  “I wasn’t thinking anything,” I lied, trying to smile. “But it’s okay to admit you enjoyed the sex. I did too.”

  His body visibly tensed, like he wasn’t sure if I was feeding him a line or baiting him for a response. In truth, I wasn’t trying to do either. I craved the closeness, needed the connection even though I knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere. I wanted to have the night, to feel good again. And as dumb as it sounded, I wanted the same for him. To connect with him in the only way he’d let me.

  “Is that so?” His brow rose, while his mouth twitched at the edges, hinting at a smile underneath.

  “Yes, I would have thought the orgasm was enough of a clue.” I smirked back.

  Okay, so I wasn’t entirely honest, but if I told him exactly how I felt, he would read it completely the wrong way.

  I didn’t have my head in the clouds, planning the seating arrangement of our fictional wedding, but I wasn’t the type of girl who slept with a man she didn’t care about either. And I cared for him. As much as I didn’t understand why, I really, really cared for him.

  “You going to freak out if we do that again?” His hand stretched out, his knuckle grazing my belly.

  “The sex, or talk?” I cocked my head off the pillow, interested in where this was going.

  “You know I hate to talk.”

  “I’m not a china doll, Michael. You won’t break me.”

  “Good, because I don’t want to.”

  Was he still talking about the sex, or was he saying something else? Short of driving myself insane dissecting the sentence, I decided he meant the sex. He wasn’t gentle and I could tell part of him was still holding back. But his darkness didn’t scare me.

  “You won’t.”

  With a nod he shifted closer, and I was surprised at how much I wanted this. No victims, remember? And I wasn’t going to start acting like one now.

  ***

  I lost count of the times we reached for each other—three, maybe four—but the last time it had been different. Maybe it was fatigue, both of us worn out, but he was slower, more deliberate than he’d been before.

  He wasn’t holding back either. He was still just as raw as the first time, but different. Like he was giving me more of himself, and whatever mask he’d been wearing was well and truly off.

  When I looked into his eyes, I saw him. I saw who he was, not who he thought he’d become, and I saw kindness. There was humanity in him, there was good in him, and he had to have felt it too. The layers slowly stripped away from both of us.

  I don’t remember deciding to fall asleep, I don’t remember wrapping myself around him, but I do remember feeling calm and safe as my eyes slowly began to close. We were naked together—it had nothing to do with our state of undress—and no matter what the consequences were tomorrow, I wouldn’t regret it.

  Consciousness came at me in a rush.

  Like I’d been kicked in the ass, my eyes flew open while my spine felt like some asshole had it hooked up to a car battery.

  I was holding her.

  Not just holding her, but our bodies were so intertwined in a twist of limbs that I wasn’t sure where mine ended and hers started.

  Her hand was resting on my chest, and I could feel her hot breath blow out of those puffy pink lips as she slept soundly.

  This shit was out of control.

  It wasn’t the sex. Hell, if all that had happened was fucking, I could have lived with it. Two consenting adults, and even though circumstances weren’t great—no harm, no foul.

  But we hadn’t been just fucking.

  Nope.

  Fuck knows what the hell I’d been thinking, but my last few interactions with Sofia had been far too close. And the sex—that just sealed the deal and put me into a sea of what-the-hell-was-I-doing that spelled a world of trouble.

  Edging her off me, I moved off that bed so fucking fast, the indent of my body was still left on the mattress. I needed away from it, away from her, as my throat constricted and I felt like I was going to be physically sick.

  The same hands that had been minutes ago palming her tits, slammed the bathroom door and locked it as my vision started to go. My chest expanded and contracted like it was supposed to, but the amount of air I was getting not enough to keep me conscious. What the fuck was going on? My fucking body swayed like a big ass tree about to go over until my hands hit the wall to stop it.

  Not good.

  My legs couldn’t be trusted to keep me upright so my ass hit the toilet just in case. Splitting my head open on the sink because I’d fainted like a pussy wasn’t happening. It was bad enough I felt like I was having a heart attack, I didn’t need a concussion as well.

  “Michael, are you okay?” She knocked at the door, her voice faint against the wood.

  I had no idea if she was whispering or something had fucked up my hearing, but none of it was registering.

  “Go back to bed, Sofia.” My head fell against my open palms as the useless airbags in my chest did the best they could to keep me breathing. “Just . . . go to sleep or so
mething.”

  “If you’re sick, I can help you.” She stayed at the door, not listening to a word I’d said about leaving me the hell alone.

  “I don’t need help, go back to bed,” I shot out, hoping that this time she’d take the hint and go back to sleep. It was bad enough this shit was going down in the first place, I didn’t need an audience.

  “O-kay,” she agreed reluctantly. Either that or she was saying whatever she thought I wanted to hear and was camping outside the door. Now that I thought about it, the second option was probably the most accurate one.

  What the hell was I doing? And why the hell did I care so much? My head had gotten so fucking messed up lately, I was forgetting that guys like me didn’t get to be with women like her. Not because she was too good for me, because I didn’t subscribe to that bullshit stereotype. But because guys like me had no fucking future. Not one we could offer anyone.

  And not that it fucking mattered because in a day or two, she was going to be history and then what was I going to do? Cry into my fucking Wheaties like a fucking five-year-old? Please.

  “You’re breathing too fast, you’re going to hyperventilate.” Her voice came from beyond the door.

  See, option number two. I knew she hadn’t left.

  “I’m fine, Sofia.” I gritted out through my clenched teeth.

  “No, you aren’t. You are having a panic attack,” she responded, like she was the all-seeing oracle and knew what the hell she was talking about.

  “I don’t get panic attacks, so stop trying to WebMD me.”

  Panic attack? If anything I was having a heart attack, which was completely inconvenient and needed to rectify itself pronto.

  “Open the door, Michael,” She called out, not willing to let me die in fucking peace.

  “Jesus Christ, woman. Can’t you just let it go?” My hands fumbled with the lock and tossed open the door. It was either that or listen to her bitch through wood, and I knew she wasn’t giving up.

  “You don’t believe in Jesus Christ.” She folded her arms across her chest. The chest that had previously been naked was now wearing one of my T-shirts. “Now put your head between your knees and slow down your breathing.” She took a step forward, crossing the threshold into the bathroom while keeping her eyes pinned on me.

  “No offense, but I’m not in the mood to attempt to give myself a blowjob.” I nodded toward my dick. I hadn’t bothered with pants, being too caught up with getting the hell off the bed and into the bathroom to worry whether my cock was covered.

  “Then concentrate on your breathing. In for three, then out for three.” She demonstrated, puffing out her chest as she took a mouthful of air and then slowly blew it out.

  My breaths started to mimic hers, keeping time with the long ins and outs, and what do you know? The pain in my chest started to ease, with my heartbeat slowing down as well.

  “It wasn’t a panic attack.” Three in . . . three out. “I must have inhaled too much smoke or something before I came to bed.”

  “Right, because smoke inhalation takes hours to show up.” She rolled her eyes, not buying what I was selling.

  “Fine.” The word fired out of my mouth. “I woke up with you all up on me and I didn’t like it. Whatever is happening between us can’t happen.”

  “It’s too late for that,” she hissed, not backing down.

  And fuck me, she was right. Damage had already been done. Exhibit A was that I was in the fucking bathroom having the conversation in the first place with exhibit B being I’d not only agreed to spare her life—going against everything I’d ever done—but was helping her do the right thing.

  “Tomorrow I’m delivering the bones to your father. What happens after that I have no fucking idea, but I know that you can’t be part of that equation.” She lifted her hand as if to protest but I cut her off. “Don’t get defensive; the only way I can do this is alone. I know you don’t understand that, but it’s not because I don’t care, Sofia. You were right, it’s too late. But I know that if you are with me, you are constantly going to be looking over your shoulder. Only one of us died tonight, don’t toss away your free pass to be with me.”

  She opened and shut her mouth a few times before she finally settled on what she was going to say. “Whatever I decide, it should be my choice.”

  “Not if it involves me.”

  Her face pinked like she’d been slapped, her feet taking her back out the doorway.

  “I’m not asking you for anything.” She wrapped her arms around her chest, her body dwarfed by my shirt. “I’m not expecting you to change.”

  “Yes, yes you are.” My eyes nailed hers as I stepped closer. “You think this is something you can fix and I can’t be repaired. It’s enough that I don’t want to kill you, don’t ask me for things I can’t give you.”

  It was as honest as I was going to get. She’d cracked me open, and I’d told her things that no one else could know and still be breathing. She had been the first person I’d ever wanted to keep safe, and while those emotions made no sense to me, I indulged them anyway. Probably because I had no idea what the fucking alternative was.

  “I need to go out.” I didn’t wait for a response, grabbing my duffle and pulling out some clean clothes.

  “You’re running away.” She moved slowly to the bed, her ass lowered onto the mattress as she watched me pull on a pair of boxer shorts.

  “No, I’m not.” I shook my head still wondering if my bright fucking idea wasn’t going to explode in my face. Hell, this had bad news written all over it and the fact I was still considering it was boggling.

  “That’s bullshit, I never run.” I snapped a little more than I would have liked. “I want nothing more than to climb in that bed with you, get inside you some more and forget what we are dealing with,” I said slowly, deliberately meeting her eyes so she knew I was on the level. “But the reason I’m walking is because I feel that way. I need to make sure you come out of this whole.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” Her brows scrunched up in confusion, not having the benefit of my plan to help her connect the dots. It was better if she didn’t know. There were still no guarantees any of it would come together anyway.

  “Then just trust that I gave you my word.” I pulled on a pair of jeans and zipped up the fly. “It’s all I’ve ever had and I don’t throw it around lightly.”

  She nodded slowly, hopefully understanding what those words meant but continued to watch as I got dressed.

  “Try and get some sleep.”

  I walked over to where she was sitting on the edge of the bed, tipping her face in my hands. Her eyes were glassy, and she was blinking fast but no tears fell.

  She wouldn’t cry in front of me right now; I knew she wouldn’t. She wanted me to know she was strong, that she could do whatever it would take and she figured not crying would send me that memo. What she didn’t know is that I already knew she was a gladiator; I’d seen her strength time and time again. But I didn’t tell her that, probably because if I did then she’d give herself permission for those tears to fall. And I just couldn’t see that now.

  “One way or another, Sofia, this will all end soon.”

  I grabbed the rest of my stuff and walked out of the room.

  ***

  It was still dark when my boots bounded up the stairs of the old church. The heavy doors slammed behind me, the sound ricocheting off the walls loud enough to wake the dead while the moonlight filtered through the big stained glass.

  I hated this place.

  I’d fantasized about torching it and watching it burn so many times I’d been almost surprised to see it still standing. But there it was, still rock solid on its foundation. The huge ass crucifix mounted on the back wall glaring accusingly at any of the sheeple gullible enough to swallow the lie, and in my pyro daydreams, it was the first thing I’d set alight.

  It never closed, a twenty-four hour minimart dealing out redemption to those who believed their slate could be wi
ped clean. Except it couldn’t, but the lie they told themselves helped them sleep at night, and it was cheaper than Ambien.

  “My son.” The collared asshole who seemed to be in charge walked toward me, rubbing his eyes like he’d just woken up.

  His kindhearted smile faltered when he saw my heated glare. I didn’t exactly have a good track record with parental units in the past and I sure as shit wasn’t looking to expand now.

  “I’m not your son.” I squared my shoulders as my skin prickled, warning me killing this dumbass wasn’t a good idea. Even though it would give me an insane amount of pleasure, I would let this useless meat suit keep living. For now.

  He stuttered, the usual response when someone looked at me for the first time. “We are all God’s children.”

  “Save it for the ones who toss coins into your collection plate.” I barked out a laugh. Seriously? He was going to get all Colossians 1:16 on me? I’d read the Bible, which is how I knew it was all a bunch of fairytales designed to make people conform. “I’m not here looking for salvation.”

  To my step forward, he stepped back, his hands adjusting the collar around his neck like it was a noose tightening. “What is it that you want?” His Adam’s apple bobbed like he couldn’t quite swallow what he had in his mouth. “We don’t have any money here. No drugs.”

  Another laugh, this time a little louder than the last. Of course this asshole would see a guy like me and assume he knew the score. So much for not judging and we are all God’s children blah, blah, blah. I didn’t even bother setting him straight, not worth wasting the breath correcting him because I really didn’t give a shit.

  “I want to speak to Sister Catherine.” I casually moved to one of the pews and sat down making it clear that I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Sister Catherine?” He looked at me like I’d suddenly grown another head. “What is this about? And it’s the middle of the night.”

  “So, wake her up. Or would you prefer me to do it?” My sick smile curled at the edges and I watched him visibly shrink into his skin.

 

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