Page 75 of Killer Confections
Okay, I can’t really ignore how nothing adds up to me. He’s gone all day only to meet up with me after work. We spend a few hours together, talking, sleeping, whatever we can squeeze in before he’s kissing my cheek and telling me he’ll sneak back in before I’m awake. Whatever he’s up to is exhausting him. He hardly has the time to sleep, but he won’t tell me what he’s doing. Every question leads to another dead end, and I’m tired of his excuses. Once I can say who he is, he’ll tell me.
But it’s starting to not cut it anymore.
“Where do you go?” I ask quietly as he punches in the code to my security system.
He hesitates before opening the door and motioning for me to walk ahead. I comply, but my eyes never leave him.
He sighs. “You know the rules—”
“I don’t give a fuck about the rules!” I throw my hands up. “You’re killing yourself! Why aren’t you sleeping?”
He closes us in my apartment before nodding to my bedroom door. “I’m going to get some sleep tonight. Someone else took my shift.”
I close the distance between us, using a hand to pull his attention to me. “Your shift for what? What do you do?”
There’s a beat between us where he just stares at me forlornly. He wants to tell me and that’s what has my chest twisting when he shakes his head. “Let’s get some sleep and I’ll tell you soon, baby. I need you to trust me.”
I know this song and dance with him. He’s still locked up so tightly, but I could make his life ten times easier if he would just let me in. I care deeply for him, and this is killing me as much as it’s killing him.
But I also know better than to push. I want him to tell me naturally. I want our relationship to flow. If I have to be a little more patient, I can do that.
“Okay,” I whisper before taking his hand and intertwining our fingers. I lead him to my room and he seems to release a breath as he strips down except for his mask.
He likes to sleep naked and since he’s started staying the night, so have I. It’s become our ritual before he eventually leaves, but tonight he’s all mine. I’m not accepting any bullshit excuses or quick goodbyes. He’s staying until the sun rises tomorrow and that’s final.
I strip down with him, giggling when he falls face first onto my pillows. He doesn’t move as he lifts an arm and tucks me against his side. I play with his hair, scrubbing my fingers through it until his breathing evens and I’m more than certain he’s dead to the world.
As I lay awake, I know our game is ending. I won’t last much longer without saying his name. I get closer and closerevery time we’re together to just blurting it out loud.
And these secrets just piling up aren’t helping. I feel so close yet so far from him…
I make it my resolve to do it the next time we see each other. I’ll give us the morning to enjoy the end of this, but after that, it’s on. I’m going to say his name and he’s going to tell me where the fuck he goes at night.
And I’m not taking no for an answer.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Atlas
I’m a controlling guy. I’m constantly in charge of what the fuck happens around me at all times. Which is why waking up to an unbearably sweaty and itchy chin still covered by a cloth mask and the smell of biscuits and bacon smacking me in the face as I sit up groggily from the deepest fucking sleep I’ve ever had is unnatural and disorienting.
The silky pink sheets pool at my waist as I lizard blink into the brightly lit bedroom.
What fucking year is it?
Oh, god. Am I even alive?
My hands fly to my chest and I quickly huff in relief before they shoot to my dick.
I’ve had this dream before. I think I’ve had the best sleep ever, only to wake up and find my cock is gone.
When I feel my genitals are still very much in place and harder than steel with morning wood, my blood pressure finally decreases as I fall back against the headboard. I run my hands over my face, my ears picking up on the light padding footsteps of my girl as she moves around the kitchen.
I glance at the bathroom before tossing the covers off me and heading in to freshen up and let my chin breathe for a few minutes. I rinse my face off in the sink, using some of Loxley’s tangerine and grapefruit scented face wash and pursing my lips at the tingling, minty feeling that opens my pores.
That’s why she likes this shit. I feel like someone shoved a fucking peppermint under my skin.
I dry my face off before relieving my bladder and shoving my boxer briefs back on. I sneak up on Loxley as she hums to herself, her hips moving just under my T-shirt she’s wearing as she uses a spatula to flip the sizzling bacon. I snake my arms around her waist, causing her to jump as she lets out an ungodly screech before smacking me over the head with the utensil.
