The peanut was okay.
“Baby,” Baz said urgently. “JJ, wake up. It’s only a dream.”
JJ scooted back against him, pressing her back to his chest and grabbing for his arm so he could put it around her.
“Hold me,” she whispered. “Please, just hold me.”
He was warm, solid security behind her as he spooned against her, sliding his arm under her head so he could surround her completely. The last vestiges of fear faded as his warmth seeped into her. This man was the only one who could do that, who could make her feel safe when she’d experienced so much terror.
“They took me again,” she whispered. “In the dream.”
“You’re safe, JJ.”
She knew that. She did. Sonny had gotten the jump on her once, but JJ would ensure it never happened again. She would be vigilant from now on, something she’d stopped doing not too long ago. After what Dante did to her, JJ swore she would never let it happen again. She screwed up. She wouldn’t make that mistake a third time.
Baz’s hand rested firmly on her stomach, and his touch caused the peanut to move. JJ was convinced the peanut could feel his heartbeat when he did that.
“I want to go to the doctor,” she whispered. “Just for peace of mind.”
“Okay. I’ll call Dr. Tinder as soon as his office opens on Monday.”
It would make her feel better to know everything was okay.
“I love you,” JJ told Baz, snuggling in closer to him.
“I love you, too.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head. “I swear to you, JJ. They won’t ever hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it.”
A chill ran down her spine at the vehemence in his words. At the same time, it made her feel safer than she ever had before.
***
Atticus smiled, lingering on the edge ofa dream when he felt warm lips glide along his neck.
“Are you awake?”
Slade’s silky voice drifted against his senses, pulling him from sleep slowly.
“Mmm. I am now,” he said, rolling to his back when he felt Slade shift beside him.
After their shower, they’d come in here, to Slade’s bed. Atticus thought for sure they would pick up where they left off, but Slade had surprised him, wanting to talk and touch, but nothing more. Atticus had never known that sort of intimacy with a man. At first, it felt awkward, but then, as he leaned against Slade’s chest, feeling the warmth of his arms around him, he got comfortable.
Slade asked about his family, about growing up, even about the scar on his stomach. Atticus had explained in as few details as he could manage because talking about himself wasn’t his favorite thing. He’d managed to turn the questions back on Slade and then listened as Slade spoke about what it was like to grow up in a house with six kids. All boys.
At some point, Atticus had started to drift. He’d woken up twice since then with Slade curled around him from behind. His warmth had allowed him to drift back off, though he wondered what it was about the man that made him so comfortable.
Slade’s hand slid down his stomach, disappearing beneath the sheet.
Atticus moaned softly when those big fingers began stroking lightly, teasing his balls, waking every part of him with his touch.
“What time is it?” he asked, gasping when Slade’s fingers dipped lower.
“Does it matter?”
“No. No, it does not. Oh, fuck.”
Atticus shifted his leg, opening himself up to those intruding fingers. They were already slick as they pushed inside his ass, which meant Slade had likely been waiting for him to wake up.
“Push the sheet down,” Slade instructed.
