Page 8 of Requiem & Reverie

His hand nearly crushes mine in a tight grip, while his other arm slides beneath me, and he palms my breast as he lets out a long, drawn-out, masculine moan, his hips slowing their pace. He shudders, banging out the last of his load, his arms locked like a cage around my body.

“Fuck.” Chest rising and falling against my back, he nuzzles his face into my neck, peppering my skin with kisses. “You did this to me, Nola. I didn’t want it to be this way with you, but I knew the moment I met you. I saw it in your eyes. You’re what I need. What I’ve craved for too damn long.”

Everything about the last ten minutes should disgust me, but it doesn’t. It was exhilarating, giving up my control, my inhibitions.

I don’t say a word as he scoops me up from the floor, into his arms, and carries me into the bathroom. I’m adrift on a sea of questions with no answers. Numb and cold. Shaken to the core, but satisfied. And as he peels off my uniform, undergarments, shoes, and the torn nylons, I can’t muster a single word to tell him so. To ease the guilt I can see drawn on his face, his eyebrows knitted together, jaw tight, as he sets me down into the shower stall. Warm water beats against my back, and I want to collapse at the weakness in my muscles, but at the brush of stubble against my belly, I look down at Voss on his knees, holding either side of my hips.

I reach down and tip his head back, and catch the agony etched on his face. Thumb tracing over his scar, I’m reminded that Voss isn’t an easy read. What lies on the surface fails to reveal the depths of him.

“Forgive me.”

“I never told you to stop. You didn’t hurt me.”

“I would never hurt you, Nola. Never.” He kisses my belly and rests his head against it. Wet lips find my slit, and he sucks and licks the water dribbling down my body.

My stomach tightens at the feel of his mouth there.

He pushes to his feet until towering over me, and wraps me up against his body. “Please tell me you know I wouldn’t hurt you.”

I nod, and as I run my fingers through his hair, staring into his stormy gray eyes, I realize I’m not lying when I say, “I do.”

* * *

I lay naked in bed beside Voss, his big body smothering me with his arms wrapped around me. Streaks of orange light beam through the closed curtains, reminding me it’s dusk and will soon be dark. I should be back at the diner, finishing out my shift, but I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically. “Were you telling the truth earlier?”

“About what?”

“About growing up on the streets?”

“Yes.” A beat of silence follows, and he kisses my shoulder. “My mother died when I was thirteen years old. I was raised by my wealthy grandfather and uncle. Both were … cruel. Abusive. They resented me. So I left home, lived on the streets for almost a year, before I joined the military and eventually ended up in New York.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That your mother died. That you had live with such cruelty after.”

“It’s like I said before. Much as you want to protect Oliver for the rest of his life, you can’t.”

“I know.” Rolling onto my back, I look up at him, and he moves his arm down across my belly, before leaning in for a kiss. “When I was his age, I had an older sister. She went out one night and never came home. I don’t know if she was picked up, or if she decided to break free. But I remember the agony and the guilt my parents went through, wishing they’d paid more attention, regretting their whole lives, basically. I guess I just want Oliver to know that I’ll always be here for him. I’ll never pressure him, or make him feel unloved.”

Instead of responding, Voss slants his lips over mine and kisses me lazily, indulgently, brushing his tongue over my lips and into my mouth. “You’re an incredible woman, Nola.”

“You’re pretty incredible yourself.” I smile against his lips and push up onto my elbow, looking out through the crack in the curtains at where my house stands off. “I better go check on him.”

With a nod, he tucks his arm beneath his head and runs his fingertips down my spine.

“Voss? What happens in two weeks? When you go back?”

He looks away from me, but continues to caress my spine.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. I want you to know, I’m okay if this is all it is. It’s better that way, anyway.”

His eyes shoot back to mine and hold something that could be mistaken for disappointment, if I thought this was anything more than a neighborly hookup. “My job is very … demanding. I don’t know that you’d be happy in New York.”

“I wouldn’t leave Chicago, so I guess this is what it is. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m going to go.” As I push to my feet, he grabs my wrist, tugging me back.

“Nola. I need you …” His face pinches to a frown, and he releases my arm, turning away from me. “Please lock the door on your way out.”