Until We Fly
Page 36
She walks straight past everyone else and puts her hand on my shoulder. “I’m exhausted,” she tells me. “Are you ready to go?”
I instantly push away from the table.
“Of course.”
I thank Camille, and we walk out.
The entire time, I can feel the glares of William and Maxwell between my shoulder blades.
The entire time, my head is spinning.
Her uncle.
Her f**king uncle.
As we turn the corner, I glance back into the dining room, and see William watching Nora leave. His gaze is rapt and he’s focused only on her.
My stomach rolls.
“I forgot something,” I tell Nora. “Go ahead. I’ll be right out.”
She looks up at me, confused, but I don’t say another word. Instead, I just walk back into the dining room, trying very very hard not to limp.
I walk straight up to the bar where William is refilling his glass.
He glances at me in surprise, and I lean in to speak in his ear, where only he will hear me.
“If you put another f**king hand on Nora, I’ll crush all of your fingers, then break them off and feed them to you. Got it?”
William’s head snaps back and he stares at me, his eyes wide and filled with guilt.
“I don’t know what she’s said to you,” he snaps quickly. “But she’s lying.”
I shake my head slowly, and look into his faded eyes.
“She didn’t tell me anything. You just did.”
His hand is clutching the edge of the bar, so I make a fist and lean on his hand, crushing it under my weight. No one else in the room can see it but the two of us.
“As I said,” I growl softly. “Touch her again, and you won’t have hands left to touch anyone else. And that will be the least of your worries.”
I take my fist away from his hand and he glares at me.
“You don’t have the slightest idea what you’ve just done,” he snaps. “I have the power to be your worst enemy.”
I smile slowly.
“Bring it.”
I walk out of the dining room, careful not to limp. The last thing I see before I turn the corner is the satisfied expression in Camille’s eyes.
Nora is waiting for me by her car, out where the air smells like the lake and the night breeze ruffles her hair. Her eyes are big in the dark.
“What did you forget?”
I shrug.
I forgot to threaten your uncle.
“It’s not important. You ready to go home?”
Home.
Where we live together.
For now.
Her eyes widen at the word and she nods immediately and without question.
“Yeah.”
She drives and the night blurs past us outside the window. I don’t mention her uncle and neither does she.
The quiet is all encompassing, but it isn’t uncomfortable.
Finally, I look at her.
“You ok?”
She smiles, a small tiny movement.
“Yeah. You?”
“Of course.”
She smiles wider and pulls into the drive. “Let me go in and get your crutches. You’ve been without them all night. I know your knee must be killing you.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. I can walk.”
I limp, but I walk unassisted into the house. I’m no pu**y, goddamnit. Although I can’t deny that pain streaks from my knee down to my ankle.
Fuck it.
As soon as Nora walks through the door, she starts shedding clothing. First her shoes, then her dress, then her bra, then finally her panties. When she stands in front of me stark naked, she smiles, her first real smile of the night.
“Ready for bed?”
I smile.
“Always.”
We tumble into bed together and Nora presses her body into mine, limp against me, warm and soft. She runs her fingers down my chest, over my hips, and cups my balls.
I close my fingers over her hand.
“Not tonight, sweetheart.”
Because you need to know that you’re more than a f**k.
I hear her sudden intake of breath. “What?”
“Not tonight. I just want to lie here with you. Does that work for you?”
I pull her even closer, until her h*ps are pressed to mine and our legs are twined together.
“I guess,” she grumbles, “But I was hoping for a little more of this.”
She strokes my dick.
The traitorous bastard springs to life, but I ignore it.
Cold Fish. Cold Fish. Cold Fish.
“Not tonight,” I remind her. “We don’t always need to do that, you know.”
Because she’s more than just that. Whatever happened to her… I have the feeling it skewed her perception of herself.
Her eyes narrow in the night.
“I know we don’t have to,” she says finally. “I just like to. With you.”
After that clarification, she puts her head on my chest and is silent for a few minutes, until finally, her voice is small in the night.
“Thank you for going with me tonight.”
“You’re welcome.”
I wrap my arms around her and hold her until we fall asleep.
Chapter Seventeen
Nora
He doesn’t want me.
I gulp hard, trying not to move because Brand thinks I’m sleeping.
I shouldn’t have taken him to dinner tonight because now he knows what I am. I don’t know how, but he knows. I saw it in his eyes earlier, and now he doesn’t want me.
I hold a fist to my mouth to keep the sounds from slipping out.
I want to go outside and scream to the moon, but I can’t.
I’m tainted.
I’m used.
I’m unworthy.
He knows.
He knows.
He knows.
Without meaning to, I whimper. Brand stirs in his sleep, his heavy arm strewn across my waist.
I’ve got to get out of here. The walls are closing in. I’ve got to move.
I quietly try to slip from bed, but Brand’s arm tightens, pulling me even more closely to him. Even if he knows, he’s still here. He still wants to share this bed with me. He still wants to touch me.
So I’m even more curious now. What exactly does he know?
I wait, inhaling and exhaling deeply, calmly. After a few minutes more, I try to move again. This time, I’m able to slip away.
When I reach the door, I grab Brand’s shirt and put it on in lieu of a robe. The sleeves fall way past my hands, so I shove them up as I grab a bottle of wine and uncork it in the kitchen.
I instantly push away from the table.
“Of course.”
I thank Camille, and we walk out.
The entire time, I can feel the glares of William and Maxwell between my shoulder blades.
The entire time, my head is spinning.
Her uncle.
Her f**king uncle.
As we turn the corner, I glance back into the dining room, and see William watching Nora leave. His gaze is rapt and he’s focused only on her.
My stomach rolls.
“I forgot something,” I tell Nora. “Go ahead. I’ll be right out.”
She looks up at me, confused, but I don’t say another word. Instead, I just walk back into the dining room, trying very very hard not to limp.
I walk straight up to the bar where William is refilling his glass.
He glances at me in surprise, and I lean in to speak in his ear, where only he will hear me.
“If you put another f**king hand on Nora, I’ll crush all of your fingers, then break them off and feed them to you. Got it?”
William’s head snaps back and he stares at me, his eyes wide and filled with guilt.
“I don’t know what she’s said to you,” he snaps quickly. “But she’s lying.”
I shake my head slowly, and look into his faded eyes.
“She didn’t tell me anything. You just did.”
His hand is clutching the edge of the bar, so I make a fist and lean on his hand, crushing it under my weight. No one else in the room can see it but the two of us.
“As I said,” I growl softly. “Touch her again, and you won’t have hands left to touch anyone else. And that will be the least of your worries.”
I take my fist away from his hand and he glares at me.
“You don’t have the slightest idea what you’ve just done,” he snaps. “I have the power to be your worst enemy.”
I smile slowly.
“Bring it.”
I walk out of the dining room, careful not to limp. The last thing I see before I turn the corner is the satisfied expression in Camille’s eyes.
Nora is waiting for me by her car, out where the air smells like the lake and the night breeze ruffles her hair. Her eyes are big in the dark.
“What did you forget?”
I shrug.
I forgot to threaten your uncle.
“It’s not important. You ready to go home?”
Home.
Where we live together.
For now.
Her eyes widen at the word and she nods immediately and without question.
“Yeah.”
She drives and the night blurs past us outside the window. I don’t mention her uncle and neither does she.
The quiet is all encompassing, but it isn’t uncomfortable.
Finally, I look at her.
“You ok?”
She smiles, a small tiny movement.
“Yeah. You?”
“Of course.”
She smiles wider and pulls into the drive. “Let me go in and get your crutches. You’ve been without them all night. I know your knee must be killing you.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. I can walk.”
I limp, but I walk unassisted into the house. I’m no pu**y, goddamnit. Although I can’t deny that pain streaks from my knee down to my ankle.
Fuck it.
As soon as Nora walks through the door, she starts shedding clothing. First her shoes, then her dress, then her bra, then finally her panties. When she stands in front of me stark naked, she smiles, her first real smile of the night.
“Ready for bed?”
I smile.
“Always.”
We tumble into bed together and Nora presses her body into mine, limp against me, warm and soft. She runs her fingers down my chest, over my hips, and cups my balls.
I close my fingers over her hand.
“Not tonight, sweetheart.”
Because you need to know that you’re more than a f**k.
I hear her sudden intake of breath. “What?”
“Not tonight. I just want to lie here with you. Does that work for you?”
I pull her even closer, until her h*ps are pressed to mine and our legs are twined together.
“I guess,” she grumbles, “But I was hoping for a little more of this.”
She strokes my dick.
The traitorous bastard springs to life, but I ignore it.
Cold Fish. Cold Fish. Cold Fish.
“Not tonight,” I remind her. “We don’t always need to do that, you know.”
Because she’s more than just that. Whatever happened to her… I have the feeling it skewed her perception of herself.
Her eyes narrow in the night.
“I know we don’t have to,” she says finally. “I just like to. With you.”
After that clarification, she puts her head on my chest and is silent for a few minutes, until finally, her voice is small in the night.
“Thank you for going with me tonight.”
“You’re welcome.”
I wrap my arms around her and hold her until we fall asleep.
Chapter Seventeen
Nora
He doesn’t want me.
I gulp hard, trying not to move because Brand thinks I’m sleeping.
I shouldn’t have taken him to dinner tonight because now he knows what I am. I don’t know how, but he knows. I saw it in his eyes earlier, and now he doesn’t want me.
I hold a fist to my mouth to keep the sounds from slipping out.
I want to go outside and scream to the moon, but I can’t.
I’m tainted.
I’m used.
I’m unworthy.
He knows.
He knows.
He knows.
Without meaning to, I whimper. Brand stirs in his sleep, his heavy arm strewn across my waist.
I’ve got to get out of here. The walls are closing in. I’ve got to move.
I quietly try to slip from bed, but Brand’s arm tightens, pulling me even more closely to him. Even if he knows, he’s still here. He still wants to share this bed with me. He still wants to touch me.
So I’m even more curious now. What exactly does he know?
I wait, inhaling and exhaling deeply, calmly. After a few minutes more, I try to move again. This time, I’m able to slip away.
When I reach the door, I grab Brand’s shirt and put it on in lieu of a robe. The sleeves fall way past my hands, so I shove them up as I grab a bottle of wine and uncork it in the kitchen.
