Delayed, Nathan Kingsly [read aloud txt] 📗

Jerking up, I wipe at them and start to rip off my clothes with harsh and jerky movements. They are all somewhere on the floor when I turn on the shower. Before I step in, I grab the closest washcloth that landed on the floor. With a generous amount of soap, I start to scrub my body and wish it isn’t only the first layer of skin I’m washing away with every pass.

Pausing, I listen to the door hinges protest. When the door shuts soon after, I’m not sure if she’s stayed. Slicking the hair away from my forehead, I consider checking, but before I decide, I see her moving on the other side of the curtain. She takes a seat on the toilet lid. She’s silent for so long, but when she does talk, it’s not the words I expect.

“You must think I don’t understand loss.” She doesn’t leave a pause for me to interrupt, but this time I have no urge to. “There’s an obvious reason my brothers are so overprotective. We lost our father too. Granted, it isn’t as traumatic as how you lost yours.” The seat creaks under her bottom as she shifts. “It was in his second remission, I was fourteen, and he was simply done fighting. I know what you must be thinking, but I’m not comparing our losses ...”

She didn’t know; it’s terrible to lose anyone, no matter the cause. It leaves a hole in your life where they used to fill it. The loss of my father is painful. However, it isn’t the cause of my constant grief and feeling of failure. It’s the living that haunt me. She can’t know that kind of pain, or the sharp anger and frustration at feeling no matter what you do, the living will resent you as long as you walk the earth. The sting of her brush-off starts to recede.

“... I know what it is to be stuck in a cycle of pain. I’m sorry if it came across as harsh, but you still have people that need you. I don’t want to see you push away the only family you have left.”

"They don't ..."

"Your sister's mad, so what? It's part of the sibling dynamic. She'll get over it. I will tell you this, if you don’t go home, it’ll take her even longer to forgive you."

“Even after her telling me not to come home?” The skin stretching across my knuckles scream in protest with a fresh stream of blood as I pull my hands into fists remembering Mia’s tone.

“Especially when she’s told you not to come home. Women will test you nearly your whole life.”

“Am I expected to pass?” Shaking my hands out, I hear her breathy laugh.

“No, but it means all the more when you do.”

"I've got a wedding to go to. Unless you're uninviting me?"

"No, I won't keep you from going. But ..."

"It's settled." Pulling the curtain back, she's looking up, her mouth still forming around the words she wants to say. I shake my head and hold out a hand. “Not right now. Later.” Thrusting my palm closer in her direction, I watch as her eyes flick down, catching the movement, but her eyes soon wander. When she finally returns my gaze, her cheeks are pink, and my smirk is back. After what’s happened in the past hour, I wouldn’t think it was possible, but my will to not give into reality is stronger. Her palm slides into mine, and I help her into the shower.

We don’t look away from one another when I pull on either side of the tie at the back of her neck. Her breasts come free, and the two triangles of fabric fall against her stomach.

“Liam ...” She bites her lip. Her arms shield her, and she looks down and away.

“What is it?” Did I read the situation wrong? Maybe she doesn’t want to be here with me anymore, after knowing my dirty secret.

“I’m sorry-” Her eyes met mine again. “I crossed a line. You shared something traumatic, and instead of comforting you, I gave tough love.” She tilts her head and presses her lips together. “I blame my brothers for that.”

My lips dangle on one corner.  “It’s a language I understand,” I say before taking her face in my hands and touching my lips to hers. When I pull back, her smile is hesitant. “Really, it’s fine.”

If I allow it to ruin what we’ve found in each other, to focus on the one thing we don’t have in common would be a waste on my part. She deserves better than that, and so do I, at least for a little while longer.

“How about we let it go? I’m naked.” I raise an eyebrow. “I could have sworn you said something about better things to spend our time on if I were.” Tilting my eyes up towards the ceiling, I start to rub my chin. “Now, what were those ‘things’?”

“Oomph!” Jerking forward, I trap her hand where it’s hit my stomach.

“You’re cheating.” She purses her lips, but that smile at the edges betray her.

“Already know that’s not my style, but I don’t recall making rules. Even if I missed that part, I would never agree to playing fair.” When my mouth takes hers, it’s tentative, like her mood, but when her tongue sneaks between my lips, asking for more, I don’t hold back. The bow holding her top comes away, and when my hands move, her hands are already working the ties on her bottoms. We smile against each other’s lips when the slap of the fabric hits the tub.

When my hands go exploring, her body shivers under my touch, and that gasp, when I grip generously of her ass cheeks, has me letting out my own excited exhale. She’s got such a fantastic ass. During our short time together, I have smacked it, bitten it, dug my fingers deep, kissed with damn near adoration, and