Wrath (Sinful Secrets 4)

“Listen to me,” he says. I feel like I’m falling into his eyes, even as I’m held in his arms. “You’re not the bad guy, angel. I can feel it. Whatever happened…to—” He swallows, his eyes widening and his face looking nervous as he struggles to avoid poking my sore spots. “That shit’s not real now. Not while we’re together. You feel me?” His hand rubs over my tight chest. “Right now, all that’s real is you and me. And we’re here together.”

His eyes are so blue. I fucking swear, they’re seeing right through mine. Emotions flicker over his face as if he’s watching a movie. Then he blinks, breaking the spell, and leans a fraction away.

“All that shit is in the past now.” His hand cups my shoulder. “I’m your person. And you’re my guy. Don’t you wanna be my guy, Ez?”

I nod. My throat stings so bad that I can’t even say it.

“All I want is you to be honest with me,” he says softly.

I want to say I don’t know how. But I hear myself say, “Okay.”

His lips brush kisses over my eyelids, my temple. “Let’s go outside, angel. Sit in the grass.”

I nod and manage to stand up first, so I can give him a hand. For a second after he’s on his feet, we stand there smiling. I kiss his cheek, even though I still feel cringey and embarrassed.

His hand comes around the back of my head, and he presses my cheek against his. “You want to go home? Take a hot shower and watch a movie or something?”

I shake my head, closing my eyes. “I want the grass.”

“You want a blow job in the grass?” I feel his cheek smiling against mine.

“I want to hold you in the grass,” I whisper. “Just for a little while.”

So that’s what we do. Miller leads me to the house’s ancient-looking cemetery, crypts rising like spires under tall, moss-draped trees. There’s a brick wall around the ornate-looking markers. I look around the grassy acreage, which runs all the way to the cliffside overlooking the lake, and all the way back in the other direction to the train tracks. I didn’t even notice the beauty last time I was here.

Miller leads me to a tree that’s got a rope-and-wood-plank swing on one side. He walks around the other side and sinks down with his back against the trunk, the way he said he would. The tree is big and mossy. The grass is thick and bright green—a lot of clovers. Everything smells like the river.

I sit by him, feeling hot and sore and good and weird, and he urges me down into his lap, draping an arm over my back. I wrap my arms around his waist, and his hand comes up under my shirt, stroking chills onto my skin.

“A long time ago, this was a spot for Creek Natives. You know what they called it?” he asks.

I shake my head against him, and his fingers draw a line on my back.

“The point of beginning. Before some of the cliffs fell down into the water, it was an easy access point onto the Chattahoochee River.”

I feel him go still. Just as I notice his body feels tense, he blows a long breath out.

“Ez.” My name’s a whispered groan. “Is this where you parked?”

I nod, feeling grateful that my face is pressed against his lap.

“Shit. I didn’t even think about it.” His hand caresses my back as he blows another breath out. “I didn’t mean to bring back…”

“Nah, dude, don’t be sorry.”

His hand, gentle, rubbing circles…moving up to stroke my shoulders.

“I can’t stand to think about it,” I whisper.

His hand plays in my hair. “It had to be so fucking scary. I’m so sorry, angel.”

My eyes sting and my throat aches as I say, “Not because of that.” I hug him harder, drawing my knees up toward my chest. “What I hate is that I left you there…in your boat.” Miller’s hand cups my head. “I left you twice,” I choke out. “Two times when you needed me there.”

I’m not a good person. I’m not a good lover—even though I want to love him so good. A tear drips onto his shorts, and I feel like a broken child…always hungering for Miller. His warmth, his gentle hands, his steadiness.

“You’re with me every night now,” he whispers after a moment. “Every night, I’m just as happy as the last one. Did you know that? It’s not wearing off.” He gives a soft laugh as his arm locks tight around me. “Everything about this shit with us makes me so happy. It’s like drugs or something. I’m addicted to you.” He laughs again, stroking my back. “I only need one thing.”

“What?” I force myself to whisper.

His arm tightens on me, and I feel him inhale. He blows the breath out, and when he speaks, his voice is raspy. “Don’t leave me again.”