Chapter 5

The water ran warm over my skin, washing away the sweat, the shame: I cried the whole time. It wasn’t pretty crying either. No, it was ugly, hiccuping sobs that shook my insides and made my throat raw. But Torin didn’t withdraw, he kept one arm locked around my waist like he was afraid I might fall apart if he didn’t. His other hand moved slowly, carefully as he washed my hair: he didn’t rush me or himself.

When he turned me so my back rested against his chest, this body heat soaked through to mine, and my body, traitor that it was, reacted immediately. Even exhausted and weak, my breath hitched when his hands moved over my ribs, my stomach, as his palm flattened over my breast, not squeezing, not claiming, just washing, I couldn't help a small utterance of pleasure. It shouldn’t have felt intimate, but it did.

Behind me, I could hear as his breathing deepened. His hands paused, just a fraction of a second, then continued: slow, deliberate. The pad of his thumb brushed the underside of my breast and my body responded, tightening, nipples hardening against the heat of the water.

At my reaction, a tremor went through him and he exhaled hard through his nose like he was trying to get control of something.

“Torin…” I began, my voice barely existing. However, turning my face gently with his fingers, he leaned in, settling his lips against mine. The kiss wasn’t rough. It wasn’t hungry. It was restrained: his lips pressing to mine like he was afraid he’d lose control entirely, and God help me, that restraint undid me more than anything else.

My fingers fisted on his shoulders, feeling him against me: hard, unmistakable, but he didn’t push forward. He didn’t grind. He didn’t claim. He pulled back instead. Then, forehead resting against mine, his breathing hard, he muttered, “Don’t.”

I didn’t know whether the order was for himself, or me.

“I need you,” I whispered, because I did. Not the drugs. Not the numbness. Him.

His jaw flexed. “Not like this,” he said quietly, but there was steel in it, before turning me back under the water, he finished washing me like nothing had almost happened. Like his hands hadn’t trembled. Like mine hadn’t clung.

When he’d finished he shut the water off, but didn’t step away, instead, he wrapped a towel around me, and began drying my hair with another. Gentle. Methodical.

A shiver raced through me and he pulled me against his chest, holding me there until it passed. No urgency, no demand…just heat, breath, and restraint, and when he finally carried me into his bedroom, it wasn’t to devour me, it was to lay me down.

Afterward, he slid into the bed beside me, still damp and still breathing too hard. Pulling me against him, he rested my back against his chest, before slowly sliding his arm around my waist, he anchored me against him, his hand resting flat on my stomach. 

I could feel his arousal, but he didn’t move, and instinctively, I shifted against him, but he stilled me with a firm hand. “Sleep,” he muttered against my shoulder.

Hours later, I woke to warmth and Torin’s mouth pressed against the curve of my shoulder. For a second, I didn’t move, just breathed.

His lips moved again, slow, dragging along my collarbone and up the side of my neck: he didn’t rush, instead, slowly explored.

My fingers slid into his hair without permission and he made a low sound in his throat. Not quite a groan, not quite a warning.

With a gentleness that nearly broke me, his palm skimmed down my waist, over my hip, then up again…testing.

Unable to stop myself, I turned toward him, our eyes meeting. The hunger in his, wasn’t hidden this time…it was raw, unfiltered. The kind that builds over years. Over stolen glances in garages. Over nights pretending not to feel something too big.

He kissed me again, this time deeper. Still not frantic, but less controlled. His hand flattened against my thigh, sliding higher, then stopped, the restraint deliberate.

Painful.

“Torin,” I breathed.

His thumb traced the inside of my wrist instead of where I wanted it. “I know,” he murmured, but he didn’t give me more. He rolled us so I was on top of him. My hair falling around us like a curtain. Then, hands gripping my hips, not pushing, just holding, his gaze moved over me slowly, like he was memorizing. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he said quietly.

It wasn’t dirty. It wasn’t crude. It was honest and heat pooled low in my stomach. I shifted slightly, feeling him beneath me, solid and very aware.

He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again. “If we start,” he said, voice rough, “I won’t stop.”

His words settled heavy between us. My breath came shallow, part of me wanting him to lose control. The other part knew exactly what it would mean if he did. He was a man who made decisions carefully, and once he committed? He burned everything.

Slowly, he rolled me off him, pulling me into his chest again. His hand slid into my hair. “I won’t take you when you’re barely standing,” he said quietly. “Not when your body’s still fighting.”

It wasn’t rejection, it was protection.

~~

The next morning I awoke to an empty bed. Confusion swamped through me as I climbed off the mattress, then made my way out of Torin's room and toward my own. 

After softly closing the door behind me, I made my way over to my dresser and pulled out clean panties, a tank top, and a pair of shorts. Once dressed, I hurried from my room and toward the kitchen. Entering the room's large expanse, I was happy to see the only one occupying it was Crystal. 

Over the rim of her coffee cup, she eyed me, amusement and a knowing look written on her features. Smiling at me, she greeted me with a chuckle in her voice. "Good Morning, Marlowe. Did you have an enjoyable night?" 

"Morning, Chrys," I returned, giving her a curious look at seeing her lips twitch with held back laughter. 

What's with her? I mused, giving my head a small shake. 

The sound of bike's revving their engines filtered into the kitchen as I moved about, preparing myself a cup of coffee. There was always some kind of noise and activity going on in the compound, and it seemed today was no different than any other. I could hear the buzz and grind of power tools being used in the shops. As well, the sound of a playful argument out in the yard. But even with the usual sounds, it was quieter than normal. 

"Why's it so quiet?" I asked. 

"Guys went on a run. Something about the Proofers trying to muscle in on some of our territory," Crystal responded nonchalantly. 

Torin hadn't even woken me up to say goodbye.