My body came alive. My nipples hardened. I grew wet.
He only had to touch me, and I wanted him.
A piece of my heart ached as I stood in his arms.
Just because I’d learned not to push him didn’t mean that sleeping apart had become any easier. It hurt to hear him cry out sometimes in his sleep. To hear the back door click closed and know he’d gone to sleep under the stars from a particularly bad nightmare.
I wanted to help him. To hold him when he dreamed of painful things.
But it wasn’t a simple matter of asking him to join me in bed.
I understood his fear of hurting me again. His meds were helping keep his mind from deep, dark places, and the therapy sessions seemed to assure him that he wasn’t alone in the feelings he still had to work through, but he still didn’t trust himself.
Until the day came that he unequivocally knew he wouldn’t wake up killing me, he would continue sleeping at a distance from me.
I didn’t care if it would take him a year to feel comfortable sharing my bed. I had time. I wasn’t going anywhere.
I loved him.
It was that simple.
Pulling away, he’d smiled and kissed me.
The kiss evolved until our hands were in places that would definitely lead to a delayed supermarket visit, but he’d stopped before we went too far, inhaling hard as if it took courage he didn’t truly have.
“I’ll go to the gala,” he murmured, his fingers sending fire over my cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Are you sure? There will be a lot of people there. It will be loud and crowded and—”
“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” He smirked, stress tightening his eyes. “Because it’s been a fucking hard decision to make.”
“No.” I cupped his cheek. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re signing up for. There will be more people there than you’ll be comfortable with. We don’t have to do it now. We can wait—”
“But you said it would help others, right? It will give a voice to those still missing, still hurting?”
I nodded, my heart breaking all over again at his selflessness. His need to protect others like him. “Yes. This platform is the perfect opportunity to reach a massive audience. It’s not news that children are trafficked, but hearing it from someone like you might make more people take notice.”
He bit his bottom lip, sucked in a heavy breath, and wedged his forehead to mine. “In that case, how I feel or what I’ll go through in such a big crowd is irrelevant. At the end of the night, I get to come back here with you. I get to lock a door and be in a safe space where no one can touch me against my will. No one can starve me or beat me.” His voice thickened with rage and grief. “So...this gala isn’t about me at all. It’s about them. It’s about those kids who don’t get to lock a door, or don’t get to have a hot meal, who don’t get to sleep safely without bastards breaking them apart.”
Tears stung my eyes. “You’re incredible, you know that.”
He cleared his throat and kissed me. “No. I’m not.” His lips moved over mine before he murmured into my mouth. “I’m only able to share a piece of myself because I have you. And because I have you, I will do whatever it takes to help others like me. Because you taught me how.”
I leaped into his arms.
And my supermarket trip had been delayed because I couldn’t stop myself.
He was so damn brave. So selfless to share his pain in order to help others. We’d ended up naked on the couch, me spread over his legs, riding his lap while his hands latched around my hips.
The way he’d filled me so deep.
The heat of his skin and the shudder of his body as he came—
“Watch where you’re going, will you?” a snooty woman snipped as I accidentally bumped her cart with mine. My daydream of what’d happened this morning rudely vanished, dropping me back into the brightly lit, grocery-laden shelves of my local store.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, darting away and heading toward the checkouts.
While waiting my turn, I logged into my emails and brought up the details about the gala. With trepidation in my heart and hope in my fingers, I typed that Kas had agreed and that we would be attending this weekend.
Pocketing my phone, I placed the food items on the conveyor belt, cursing the small bubble of fear in my belly. Kas was doing this for others like him. I knew he still felt guilty that the family he’d done his best to save had ended up right back in hell. He wasn’t the type of guy to let Jareth hunt everyone down without offering support.