Page 59 of One Last Rainy Day
“That’s just your roundabout way of sayingI’m off.” I zero in on him. “You think I don’t see the way you all look at me? Like I’m some bouncing live wire you’re all afraid to get close to?” I shake my head in disgust. “If I am, it’s because I’m filled to the fucking brim with a need to act—to expose the truth. Something we once had in common and had issues getting others to believe until proven. What’s incredible to me is that, lately, I’ve been put in the position to defend myself to my fucking own.” I shake my head. “You would think at least one of you would understand my struggle. But it seems like everyone around is so locked up in their own fucking lives—their own shit—so afraid I’ll upset the balance when upsetting the balance is the reason we fucking soldiered up in the first place.”
“We are moving,” he reminds me.
“At a snail’s pace,” I scoff. “It’s like everyone forgot they were once angry too. So angry they altered their entire life path to take action, and what are we doing?” I toss my wrench in my toolbox in disgust as the little girl’s screams in the latest video amplify—the noise crashing back into me in a breath-stealing rush.
I’ll never outlive the image of her surrounded bymonsters—defenseless, alone, and begging for help that didn’t come. Turning on him, I feel the anger start to simmer just beneath my skin. “This isn’t supposed to be aboutus. If we give into caring about only what we get out of this, we’re no better than the people we’re targeting.”
“I get that, I do,” he assures.
“Yeah?” I snap my head up. “So, tell me, brother. Where do you go at night? Because it can’t all be about the fucking club.”
He swallows. “It’s not. Not always.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I’m still mad, Dom. I’ve also laid witness to shit that no human should ever see. The difference between us is that I can temper it a little better. But you continually seem to forget I’ve sacrificed a lot to start this fight with you. Don’t write me off so fucking easily. It’s insulting.”
Sighing, I keep his stare and get a really good look at him for the first time in weeks. His posture is fatigued. The circles under his own eyes are darkening by the day like my own. “I am thankful for you, man, but it’s stagnant water we’re floating in, and it’s...” I groan and run my hands through my sweat-soaked hair in frustration.
“We have to trust that France knows what he’s doing.”
“What if he’s just as lost as we are?” I ask, the thought terrifying. “Don’t you find it pretty disconcerting that he chosenowto search for his birth father? Seems like some sort of existential shit to me, and it couldn’t be worse timing.”
“He’s wondering why it’s been so hard to get ahold of you the last few days.”
“Yeah, well, he can keep wondering because he’s been ignoring me for his own selfish shit since he left.”
“So, it’s not this thing with Cecelia?”
I shake my head. “That’s temporary. Everyone knows that, including Sean. So, ignorance is bliss, right? Maybe I’ll fuck around with that mindset for a while.”
Shoulders slumping, I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter...things are changing, and apparently so are we, and nothing about any of this feels right.”
“I believe you, Dom. You don’t have to convince me of anything. And no matter how much shit changes or how much we change, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He’s only a foot away now, his back to the open bay as rain starts to pour behind him.
I nod in reply, a slight bit of tension easing off my shoulders.
“And you’re right,” he sighs. “He’s being selfish with his quest, and the timing is questionable. But considering how long he’s been at this without us, he deserves it. Hell, with what we’re undertaking with no end in sight, maybe we deserve to indulge in a little escape if we can manage to find it.”
My reply dies on my tongue when I spot Cecelia over his shoulder, standing outside the bay in a solid white sundress, lust-glazed blues rolling over my profile. Static instantly lights my veins, along with a sweep of relief as I exhale the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“Yeah,” I whisper hoarsely, unable to rip my gaze away, as Tyler follows my focus. “Maybe we should.”
The next roll of thunder has nothing on the roar in my chest as thin cotton clings to my midday mirage, who’s rapidly becoming soaked while charged seconds pass between us. A puff of temperature-invoked smoke billows from herheaving chest as her soaked dress outlines her erect nipples and every curve. I no longer have to wonder about thehowbecause it’s crystal clear she’s here to collect.
She came. Forme.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I’LL FIND SOMEWHEREelse to be,” Tyler muses, turning to stalk out as Cecelia sets into motion, passing him without so much as a glance. The slam of the bay door behind him leaves us cloaked in dim light as we collide. The impact is like a much-needed shot that rapidly seeps into my bloodstream—Sweet. Fucking. Relief.
Her moan vibrates my tongue as she surrounds me entirely—her scent, her skin, and her noises. My entire body is alight with need—my cock, already fully hard, strains to get to her through my zipper. Kissing her back just as feverishly, I lift her to straddle me, and she molds around me as if it’s natural. It feels that way and has since our first kiss on that float. When we finally part, she looks up at me, pupils blown with desire. “Please don’t stop, Dom. Ineedyou.”
Stunned by her easy admission, I prop her on the hood to relieve my screaming wrist and run my hands over her soaked arms as her eyes search mine. “Cold?”
“No,” she murmurs, grinding her center along my cock.
It’s been one too many fucking days without rain, without her.
