Edison (The Henchmen MC 10)

And I had a man's life hanging in the balance, it was becoming more and more clear that I was going to need to use all the training I had gained to take the breath out of his unworthy lungs.

I needed a good fuck, not feelings.

I had the fuck.

It was over.

It was time to shake it off, and move the hell on.

I didn't have time for this.

I didn't have the brain space to deal with my weird reaction to him.

"Uh-oh," Edison mumbled into my neck. "There she goes."

I pulled back, looking down at him with creased brows. "There who goes?"

"The real Lenny," he told me, voice matter-of-fact, eyes almost a little... disappointed?

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, voice a little more snippy than it should have been. But I was tired, confused, and I didn't know why I refused to move off of him, to disconnect. Usually, I couldn't lift off fast enough.

"Got to see the real you for a while tonight, love. Without all the guards, without the barbed wire and the growl."

My spine stiffened, not liking that, not wanting anyone to be able to see that I wasn't just who I portrayed myself to be, that there were other levels. It would serve no good purpose for that to get out.

"The guards and the barbed wire and the growl are the real me," I countered, voice seething.

"Don't lie to my fucking face, Lenny," he demanded, voice offended.

"I don't know who..." I started, then pushed hard at his chest, pulling against the hold that was still around me. "Let me up. I'm not having this argument with your cock still inside me," I snapped, shoving harder, this time him letting me go so I could jump off the end of the bed. "I don't know what the fuck you think just happened. But this is just sex. Just scratching an itch. You didn't get to somehow see behind some guards at some deeper, mushy Lenny. Your cock isn't a sledgehammer. Get the fuck over yourself."

I snatched a random shirt off the floor, pulling it on, glad when it came past my vag, giving me at least a little bit of cover.

"Right," Edison said, his voice still frustratingly calm as he moved to stand, reaching to pull his boxer briefs and pants back on, but leaving the front open, likely still all-too uncomfortably aware of his need to deal with the condom, but like me, needing to have a fight at least somewhat clothed. "So that was why when you came, you had tears in your eyes, right? That's why you looked at me like you'd never had a cock before. That's why you relaxed into my hold instead of pushing me away. Tell yourself whatever you need to tell yourself to be able to face yourself in the mirror, Lenny, but don't ever fucking lie to me and tell me that I didn't see what I saw. And that was that there is something else to you. Maybe you didn't mean to show it to me, but too fucking bad. You did. Deal with it."

"Deal with it?" I hissed, eyes getting small as my arms crossed over my chest.

Deal with it.

That was exactly what I needed not to do.

I needed to deny deny deny.

I needed to pretend this entire fucking night didn't happen. Even if I would feel the ache of him between my legs for a whole day.

"Tell you what," I said when he just stared at me with eyes that were boring in way too deep. "I will deal with it. By getting you out of my apartment. Goodnight, Edison. Thanks for the sex. Fuck you for this," I said, waving between us.

He nodded a bit solemnly at that, reaching to snag his shirt, pulling it on. He moved toward me after, head ducked down to keep unyielding eye-contact that I knew I couldn't break.

"I see you, Lenny," he told me, and those words had depth, sank down deep inside me where they most definitely didn't need to be. "And you're not as fucking scary as you think you are. I get you need this, the space to try to put your shields back up. But know this," he told me, snagging my chin hard enough so I couldn't simply whip my head to dislodge it, "I'm the only one who can see you. And you are going to fucking crave the freedom not to have to try so hard to hide yourself. And you are going to break. And call me. And despite this," he said, releasing my chin, waving between us, meaning the argument we were having, "I am going to pick up. Think you've never had a man who gave a shit enough to tell you that. So I'm telling you. Push me, shove me, spit your venom at me, but I'm still going to pick up when you need me."