Page 49 of Strangers in Love

For example, most showers weren’t made for people my height. My parents had needed to put specialty showers in half the bathrooms in our house because of how tall most of us were. Alec and I were the same height and our stepbrother, Rome, was just an inch shorter, but all the men in our family were over six feet. I couldn’t count the number of times Alec, Rome, and I had come home with bruises on our foreheads from low doorways and the occasional ceiling fan.

I knew I was thinking about all this stupid shit to ignore my…unexpected complication.

No, it wasn’t the inch-long gouge in my arm from the bullet. It wasn’t the thinner scratches from the fence either. And it wasn’t the baseball-sized bruise from the bullet that had hit me right next to my solar plexus.

No, the ‘complication’ was the fact that my cock was rock hard.

Part of it was just the usual rush that came from surviving a life-threatening situation. People who’d never gone through anything like that might’ve thought it was weird, but there was something about danger that made people want to fuck. Maybe it was us wanting to prove or celebrate that we were alive. It’d been pretty common in the army for guys to want to go out and get laid after a firefight.

Except I couldn’t completely blame the adrenaline or the excitement. Yeah, I’d participated in my own share of shit like that, but this was different. Every other time, it’d been about going to a bar or club, finding some random hot girl, hooking up, and then never seeing her again. Aline was…well, she wasn’t some random hot girl. I could say that much.

Not that she wasn’t hot. She was. Even under all the dirt and with all she’d been through, I’d seen that she was attractive. Then, when she’d walked out of the bathroom, it’d hit me like a punch in the gut. It wasn’t just physical with her either. She was fearless and strong and didn’t take shit from anyone. And she hadn’t stared at my scar. Maybe that was why her face was in my head, and I was more turned on than I’d been in a long time. Hell, I was hornier than when I’d been with that woman in Seattle.

But I wasn’tthatguy. I’d never taken advantage of a woman in my life. If she evenlookedtoo drunk to consent, I wouldn’t touch her. I’d sent more than one woman home in a cab after threatening the drivers if they didn’t make sure the lady was safe. I also didn’t mess with women who were emotionally vulnerable. Some guys liked to find women who’d just been dumped or just caught their man cheating on them, that sort of thing, but not me. I didn’t need all that emotional shit when all I wanted was some fun.

Which meant Aline was off-limits.

In real life.

My imagination was a different story. Under other circumstances, she wouldn’t have been hands-off, so that was what I let my mind dream up now. A time and place where I could actually know how soft her skin was. What it would feel like to bury my hands in her hair. How she would taste.

I needed to get my shit together before I went out into that room and slept in the same room as her. And I knew just how to do that.

I closed my eyes and braced myself against the wall with one hand. My other hand went around my cock. The water didn’t do much to cut down the friction, but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t trying to draw this out, and a rough edge was what I needed right now. I had to get off quick so I could handle the rest of the night without looking like I wanted to bend her over the nearest piece of furniture and find out what it sounded like to have her scream my name.

As I worked my hand over my cock, I imagined it was her hand sliding and squeezing. Those light green eyes looking up, all that intensity focused on me. My fantasy Aline wet her lips, and I wanted her mouth so badly it hurt. Soft and hot. I imagined what it would be like to slide between her lips, to have her tongue moving over my skin.

Would she take me all at once?Couldshe take all of me, or would she need to keep her hands around the part of me she couldn’t get into her mouth? I’d only met one or two women in my life who could deepthroat all of me. Did she use long, slow licks or small ones like she was just taking a taste a bit at a time?

My fingers flexed on the wall as I thought about burying my hand in her hair, using it to guide her, show her what I liked. Would she want me to pull on it? Not a lot, but just enough to get her attention, to make sure she wasn’t thinking about anything or anyone else. Only me.

According to Freedom, Aline was a ‘good girl,’ and I wondered if that would carry over into the bedroom. Was she shy and timid, in need of someone to lead her? Or the sort of woman who lost all her inhibitions in bed? One who seemed all proper but then let go when she fucked? Somehow, I thought she was the type who did everything with enthusiasm, and the idea of seeing her lying beneath me, her entire body responding to me as I made her come…

“Fuck,” I growled as my vision went white.

The tension bled out of my body, and my muscles finally relaxed. I let myself enjoy it for a couple seconds before I straightened and washed up, going through the motions like I’d done for years in the army. Quick and efficient, not really requiring a lot of thought. I dried off the same way.

I wrapped the towel around my waist and then turned my attention to my injuries. The bruise on my chest already looked nasty. I was going to feel it for days.

The one good thing I could say about what’d happened to me in Iraq was that my pain threshold was a hell of a lot higher than it used to be, and I’d never been a wimp about pain before. This bruise was going to suck, but it wasn’t going to make me second-guess my decision to go back after the others once I got Aline to the plane.

The deepest scratch from the fence didn’t look like much of anything, but I still put some antibiotic cream and a bandage on it. Who knew what sorts of shit I could get from that fence. I’d seen more than one soldier go to the hospital with blood poisoning because they’d let something small get infected. In a fight, sure, we ignored anything that didn’t stop us from doing our job, but once we had the time, there was no excuse. Who cared if someone thought we were weak for taking care of shit like that? Idiots. We had to take care of our bodies so we could do our jobs.

Knowing that was what had made Cain bring a decent first aid kit with us to the hotel. More than decent, actually, I realized as I opened up a pocket and found a tube of superglue. I’d washed the cut in the shower, but if I wanted to put antibiotic ointment on it, I’d have to use a bandage instead of the much easier superglue since the cream would keep the glue from being as effective. At the moment, a bandage would attract more attention. The soap and water would be good enough until we got on the plane. I’d just keep an eye on it and get it looked at as soon as we got home if it looked bad.

It wasn’t until I’d finished gluing my skin together that I realized I hadn’t brought any clothes into the bathroom with me.

“Shit.”

I tightened the towel around my waist and reached for the doorknob. I just hoped Aline didn’t take me coming out in only a towel to mean I was coming on to her. She already didn’t like me. The last thing I needed was her telling her sister I’d done something sleazy.

Thirty-Five

Aline

The sandwiches were good,and as soon as I took the first bite, I was ravenous. I knew I had to pace myself, though. If I ate as many as I thought I wanted, it’d only just come back up again. I finished most of the first one before setting it back on the tray.

That was when the guilt hit me.

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