Chief pulls me closer, his lips finding my temple. “I love you, baby. You’re good.”
Then, he leaves.
I sit on the side of the bed for a while, how long, I don’t know. Eventually, the door swings open and Travis slips in, silent as a shadow. He kneels in front of me, his face twisted with confusion. He doesn’t understand what happened out there, why would he?
“Tell me what the fuck that was, Violet?”
“I can’t,” I whisper. “Just...I don’t want to think about it anymore. Make it go away, Travis.”
He leans up and presses his lips to mine, gentle at first, then insistent, hungry. My fear bleeds into something else entirely—relief, desire, a desperate need to be consumed by something other than memories. Before either of us can think better of it, we’re both on the bed, stripping off clothes with urgent hands, breath ragged, fingers trembling against buttons and zippers. The cool air against my bare skin makes me shiver, but Travis's hands are warm, so warm they seem to burn away every dark thought.
Travis's mouth is everywhere, on my collarbone, tracing the hollow of my throat, along the curve of my ribs, down to the sensitive skin of my hip, igniting nerves I didn't know were starved for touch. Each press of his lips feels like salvation, like he's marking me as something precious rather than broken. I slide my fingers through his hair, pull him closer, needing more of this exquisite distraction. His body presses into mine with a firm promise; it's not my first time, but it feels like I've never known pleasure this fierce, this consuming.
"Let me take it all away," he whispers against my skin, and I believe him. I believe he can.
I wrap my legs around him as he settles between my thighs, the weight of him anchoring me to this moment, keeping me from floating back into terror. His hands cup my breasts, thumbs tracing hardened peaks until I'm gasping, arching into him, silently begging. The lightning outside seems distant now, replaced by the electricity between us. I watch, mesmerized, as he rolls a condom down his cock, his eyes never leaving mine.
He slides into me in one steady motion that takes my breath away. There's a sharp heat, a moment of exquisite stretch that borders on pain but never crosses that line. His eyes search mine, checking, caring, and I nod, pulling him deeper. Then rhythm begins—slow at first, letting me adjust to the feel of him, then building, intensifying. Each thrust drives deeper, closer to that place where fear dissolves entirely, where Lillian's face fades and there is only Travis, only this, only us.
I dig my nails into his shoulders, matching his pace, meeting him thrust for thrust. The bed creaks beneath us, a counterpoint to our ragged breathing. His hips move harder, faster, and I feel the coiling pull of release building low in my belly, spreading outward like wildfire. "Trav—" I gasp, voice trembling, breaking on his name.
He shifts, angling deeper, hitting a spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. "Let go," he commands, and it's the tenderness in his voice, not the demand, that undoes me. "Let me take it all away."
He curses and picks up speed, one hand sliding between us to circle my already aching clit. Our skin slaps together in the dim glow, sweat slick and sweet, the scent of us—of sex and need and comfort—filling the room. I shatter around him in a fierce, shuddering climax that seems to go on forever, waves of pleasure washing away every trace of fear, every memory, until there is only this perfect moment of release.
He follows seconds later, his rhythm faltering as he stiffens and then growls his release, his voice a low, husky rasp. We collapse, tangled and spent, hearts racing in tandem. We stay like that for a long time, until he pulls away, leaving me cold and empty. I push up on my elbows, watching as he pulls his clothes on, the moment gone.
“You’re going?”
“Chief would kill me if he found me in here, you know that.”
My heart sinks.
I know he’s right, and I hate it.
Because I want him to stay.
“I know,” I whisper.
“You need me, you call, yeah?”
He places a finger under my chin and tips my head back, bringing his lips to mine.
“Maybe one day, you’ll tell me what broke you so fucking bad.”
My heart skitters and I meet his gaze. “Maybe one day.”
He kisses me one more time, then he’s gone.
And just like that, the storm outside continues raging on.
MORNING SHATTERS THEsilence.
The door slams and Chief walks in, boots thundering on the floor. He yanks the curtains open so hard the rod groans. Sunlight floods my room and I hiss like a feral vampire being tossed into the light for the first time.
“Good morning, Mischief.”
I squint, tangled in blankets. “Ahhh, it’s early. Make it go away.”