Page 62 of The Player
She sighed, her hand finding mine as we lay together, our fingers intertwining. “I don’t think we’ll be okay for a long time. And knowing he’s still out there, it means none of this is over. It’ll never be over. Not until he’s caught. He could be out there taking someone else right now, playing his sick games.” Her body stiffened beside me. “He could be watching us. Waiting to strike, again.”
“If he ever dares to come near you again, I’ll be ready for him.”
The tension radiating off her was palpable.
“We weren’t ready the first time.”
“But we know better now. Which reminds me, I need to get us new phones.”
She squeezed my hand in response.
“That can wait. Let’s just see if we can get through tonight.”
We lay on the bed in silence, and then she asked me quietly, “What if we never find him?”
Failure wasn’t something I wanted to entertain. We would find him. There was no question about that.
“He might be finished with us, but I’m not finished with him,” I said, pulling her closer to me. “I won’t stop until I’ve found him. And vermin like him, they never stay hidden for long.”
She didn’t respond, and moments later, when I heard her breathing become steadier, shallower, I knew she’d fallen asleep.
It meant more than anything to know she was at peace. That’s all I wanted. Peace for her despite the war raging in my head. My demons were mine to deal with, and so were hers. I’d take them both on.
But I should’ve known the peace we’d fought to get back to wouldn’t last.
Hours later, in the darkness of the room, she started to cry out. A nightmare had taken hold, and I pulled her to me as she began to whimper and rock in her sleep. I hated hearing her like this, and as her cries turned more frantic, I shook her gently to wake her, pulling her out of the hell she was trapped in.
“It’s okay, Bee. You’re okay,” I comforted. “I’m here. You’re safe.” Her body sank into me as realisation that she wasn’t in immediate danger filtered through her foggy, sleepy brain.
“Is this ever going to end?” she whispered, her voice breaking as she fought tears she didn’t want to shed. “Even in my dreams it’s haunting me.”
“It’ll take time, but it’ll stop.”
“But I feel like I’ve lost all my fight.”
“Give yourself a break, Bee. It’s still early days. The fact you’re here and we escaped says everything about how strong you are.”
She stilled beside me, and I listened to her gentle breaths. Then, she rolled over to face me and I kept my arms wrapped around her as she cuddled into my side.
Her head leaned closer to mine, her delicate breath danced across my face, and then she kissed me. A slow, gentle kiss, her lips lingering over mine as we breathed each other in.
“I need you,” she sighed. And the hope and desperation in her voice made something inside me contort and twist in pain. I wanted her too. I always wanted her. But I didn’t want to take advantage. In the basement, our connection had been raw, visceral, a reminder of our need for survival. But her father’s death had changed that. It’d changed me. I didn’t want to be that asshole.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I whispered as her hand trailed down my chest and over my stomach. My cock was rock hard, and I knew she could feel it pressing against her. Clear evidence to show I was a liar. My body betrayed what my mind was trying to shut down. She had a hold on me, and there was nothing I could do to change it; I didn’t want to.
“You say that”—her hand reached down to grip my cock, and she gave it slow, delicious strokes that sent shockwaves running down my spine—“but your body tells me something different.”
I rolled her onto her back, my body covering hers, pressing her into the mattress. “There’s nothing more I want to do right now than fuck you into this mattress.” I nipped at her neck as she arched her back, moulding her body to mine. “But what sort of asshole would that make me, if I did that, after all you’ve been through?”
“One that knows I need to feel something else. Something other than this gaping hole that’s been in my chest ever since you picked me off the floor of that room and took me out of there. I want to feel alive, Will. To feel loved. I want to just feel… you.”
I lifted up onto my elbows to peer down at her. Her eyes shined back at me in the darkness, brimming with unshed tears, and I couldn’t deny her. How could I?
“Well, when you put it like that”—I leant down to brush my lips over hers—“I can’t say no, can I?”
She threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck and pulled me to her, our mouths pressed close as we deepened the kiss. She let her legs fall open beneath me, then wrapped them around my waist, and I kept kissing her, my tongue tangling with hers as my hand skated down her body to rest between her legs. I slid my fingers through her pussy. Her wetness made my cock throb, desperate to be inside her. I rolled my fingertip over her clit, rubbing and circling, then pushing down into her pussy and stretching her on my fingers. She gasped, her hips bucking as I fucked her slowly with my hand, my thumb flickering and circling her clit to drive her crazy.
“That feels so fucking good.” She sighed, her hips rocking on my hand as she reached for my cock and started to give me torturously slow pumps. It felt fucking amazing, but I needed more. I wanted to be buried inside her, feeling her warm tight walls gripping me, milking my cock.
