Blake hesitated, then shook his head, something dark flickering across his features. "Different story. He trained men to survive. He trained them to fight and to defend others. I grew up between two worlds. One that patched wounds, one that caused them."
Her gaze didn't waver, and she reached out without thinking, her fingertips grazing his wrist where it rested on his knee. The touch was electric and immediately grounding. "And which world did you choose?"
Blake's breath caught at her touch and the way she looked at him like she could see straight through to his soul. "The one somewhere in between that keeps good people alive but ensures monsters are held accountable."
For a long moment, neither spoke. The fire crackled, sparks drifting upward, but all Blake could focus on was the way herthumb was unconsciously stroking across his wrist, the way her eyes had gone soft and dark.
She set her glass down with her free hand, not pulling away from his touch. "I wanted to be a journalist since I was twelve. My professors tried to steer me toward safer paths like public relations or copywriting. But I wanted stories that mattered. Truth that mattered."
Blake turned his wrist under her touch, catching her fingers in his, marveling at how small and delicate they felt against his calloused palm. "You've got the instincts. You don't let go of questions."
“I have since I met you.” She gave a faint smile that made his pulse skip. "But my drive gets me into trouble. Étienne said not all stories need to be told."
"Yeah, that’s true," he said, voice rough, his thumb tracing across her knuckles. "Your drive also makes you dangerous—in a good way."
"Not like Zajac." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she looked at their joined hands like she couldn't quite believe they were touching.
"Not like him. He’s a monster," Blake agreed, lifting their joined hands to brush his lips across her knuckles, a gesture so gentle it made her breath hitch. "You will move past this, Elise."
She nodded, staring at the fire, then slowly turned her head to look at him. The vulnerability in her eyes nearly undid him. "Please tell me that you're going to stay until I'm cleared of all of this."
He brought their joined hands to rest against his thigh, covering her fingers with both of his. "I'll stay. I'll be here until you tell me you want me gone." He knew he'd stay whether Guardian wanted him to or not. But if she ever learned or deduced what he really did, he wasn't sure she'd want him to stay. He buried that thought away, knowing her figuring it outwas inevitable. Good people didn't want people like him in their lives. It wasn't the way the world worked. But God, looking at her now, he wanted to be the exception because the feelings that were building for this woman were real.
They talked until the wine was gone, the fire burned low, and the candles guttered. Between long stretches of comfortable silence, they drifted across topics, their hands remaining intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the world. They talked about her first byline in college, the professor who had doubted her, and his own struggles with keeping up with school before Guardian training consumed his life.
Every so often, Blake rose and went up to the bedroom to check on Rook. Each time he returned, Elise was waiting, her expression a little more open, her voice a little softer, her body unconsciously angled toward him as he settled back beside her. Closer each time until their shoulders brushed and he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
As the night wore on, she began to lean into him, her head finding its way to his shoulder during a particularly long, comfortable silence. Blake went still, hardly daring to breathe as she relaxed against him, her hair tickling his neck, her hand still linked with his.
"Blake?" Her voice was sleepy, wine-soft.
"Mmm?"
"Thank you. For everything. For making me feel safe when my whole world is falling apart."
His arm came around her, pulling her closer, his lips brushing the top of her head. "You don't have to thank me for that."
She tilted her face up to look at him, and suddenly, they were impossibly close, her lips parted, eyes dark with something that had nothing to do with fear. The air between them crackled with tension, with want barely held in check.
"Elise," he whispered, her name a rough prayer on his lips.
For a heartbeat, they balanced on the edge of something that would change everything. Then she lifted her hand to cup his cheek, her thumb tracing the sharp line of his jaw, and the world narrowed to just this—her touch, her scent, the way she was looking at him like he was something precious instead of something dangerous.
“Make love to me.” She whispered the words millimeters away from his lips. He wasn’t going to ask if she were sure. He lowered his lips to hers and moved her onto his lap. Her hands were threading through his hair as he pulled her closer. The electric tension became a nuclear explosion. The feel of her tongue dancing against his made his gut curl with desire. He clinched his arms around her and moved them both to the floor. They didn’t break the kiss as he kneed her legs apart and settled on top of her. Her hips arched under his, and he groaned at the friction she caused against his cock. Fuck, she ignited every desire he had. He lifted away from the kiss and looked down at her. “I need you.”
“Then take me.” She rimmed his lips with her fingertip, and he chased her finger, pulling it into his mouth and applying pressure. Her already large pupils blew larger. Her breath caught, and she smiled. “Are you going to be hard to tame?”
He sucked her finger for a moment before he dropped it and stared down at her. “I can’t be tamed.” He lowered. “I like to be in control.” He took her bottom lip with his teeth and bit down enough that she would understand what he meant.
She moaned and arched under him. “Then take control,” she panted. “I don’t want to have to think, to make any decisions, to worry about anything.”
“I’ve got you. You’re safe with me,” he said as he lifted and stripped off his t-shirt. Her hand went straight to a long scar that ran from one side of his chest down across his stomach.
She looked up at him. “And you’re safe with me. That I promise you.”
He cocked his head, not understanding what she was saying, but he didn’t care at the moment. He lifted off her and stood, taking off his clothes. As she lifted to her elbows, she watched him and said, “Damn it, Blake, you’re gorgeous.”
“Stand up.” He offered her his hand, and she stood up. “Undress for me.” He sat on the couch and grabbed his cock that was diamond hard and ready for action. Elise blinked, and her mouth opened to talk. He held up a hand. “No decisions, no worries, no thinking. Undress for me. Shirt first.”
