When Nathan woke,Storm was gone, and he tried to ignore the way his stomach dropped with disappointment. The space beside him had long ago grown cold, and he stretched out a hand, mulling over his complicated feelings. Midmorning sunlight streamed in through the slats of his window blinds. He rolled onto his back, wondering when Storm snuck out—and how he managed it without waking him. The last thing he remembered was being sprawled on top of him. Somehow Storm had not only slipped away but worked the blankets out from under him to cover him up. He was still naked, and gloriously sore. His body was satisfied, bone-deep, in a way he’d never felt before. It was the best sex of his life. Anxiety twisted in him like a coiled serpent at the thought of what they’d done, but he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed it.
That made it all the more dangerous. He couldn’t do this again. He’d had a grievous lapse in judgment, and he couldnotbecome the next Alex or Luke. Something about Storm got under his skin, but… this couldn’t happen again. It was good that Storm had slipped out during the night. At least Nathan wouldn’t have to shoo him away or find a way to break things off. This could be a one time thing, and he could move on. The guild never had to learn about it, and he could carry on trying to build the truce between the two groups.
He would just avoid him. He knew how to contact the humans in their outfit now. There was no need to go through Storm anymore.
With a groan, he rolled out of bed and stood. His thighs and ass were sore but not in a debilitating way. In a wonderful, distracting way. Every time he walked, sat, ormovedtoday, he would be reminded of what he’d done. And there was no one he could confess to. Even if he went for a confession at the church, the risk that Father Hawley would relay the information to Sloan was too great. No, he had to keep this to himself.
That wasn’t entirely true. There were others who’d been in his position before, weren’t there? Alex and Luke, even Ira, though he’d never been a fighter.
Ira.Maybe speaking with the level-headed prophet would help him sort out his thoughts.
But first, a shower.
He was mortified to realize there was dried cum between his legs. He turned the hot water up and told himself that was why his face was hot as he cleaned himself thoroughly and tried not to think about how good it had felt when Storm filled him up. When that didn’t work, he pressed his hot forehead to the cold tile and coached himself on letting it go. It didn’t matter how good it felt. It couldn’t happen again. Itwouldn’thappen again. He would be excommunicated orkilledfor what they’d done last night, and all his efforts to create a truce would be wasted.
He dressed in clean jeans and a T-shirt, then ventured to the kitchen.
There was a post-it on the coffeemaker. He cast a glance through the living room, but it was empty. Nothing was out of place. Hell, even the lock on the doorknob was turned. Storm locked up when he snuck out. That was nice, he supposed.
Coffee’s ready. Just hit the button, the post-it read, with a little zigzag thing at the bottom—was that a lightning bolt? Storm signed his name with a lightning bolt. That was adorable.
“No, it’s not, dammit,” he said aloud, opening the coffeemaker’s lid. As promised, it was already filled with fresh grounds, and the tank was full of water. He pushed the button with a sigh.
While it ran, he fetched his phone from the bedroom and pressed Ira’s name. It rang for so long that Nathan began to worry it would go to voicemail.
“‘Lo?”
He took a breath, but paused. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“Little bit.” There was a soft murmur, and Ira said, “It’s just Nate. Go back to sleep.”
“Gonna kill ‘em both,” a deep voice replied, close enough this time for him to overhear.
Both?
“Hang on, let me go into the next room.”
Nathan waited, watching the coffee trickle into the pot as the sound of a door closing and soft shuffling came through the speaker.
“Okay. What’s up?”
“I… I need some advice. I know we aren’t supposed to ask prophets about things, but?—”
“Don’t worry about that. We’re not exactly abiding by guild rules these days.”
“Right.” He sighed, passing a hand over his short hair. “I did something stupid.”
“I don’t know that I’d call Stormstupid. He has his moments, I guess, but?—”
“I wasn’t callinghim—wait. You already know?”
“Uh.”
He desperately wanted to know if Ira had seen them having sex in a vision, but the answer might make him combust into flames. He decided to focus on the problem at hand instead. “What do I do, then? This can’t happen again. Sloan would lose it. They’d kill me!”
“Do you love him?”
“Do Ilovethe demon I met two days ago who had sex with me and snuck out while I was sleeping?” He had the grace to lock up behind himself and make Nathan’s coffee, which was nice, but sneaking out just made the whole thing feel like a one-night stand. Maybe that was all it was to him. Nathan had to admit that would make things easier, even if it did make something uncomfortable squirm in his belly. That was all itshouldbe, and he was determined to accept that. It wasn’t like they could have anything serious. He couldn’t have a relationship with a demonandbe in the guild. They’d all learned by now that that simply wasn’t possible.
