Page 123 of Speak No Claim

“Hey.” I walked out onto the balcony of his bedroom.

He leaned his elbows against the rails, watching the sun rise, declaring a new day.

“You need to get some sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Will you come lie with me?”

For a moment, our eyes connected before he nodded. I grabbed his hand, leading him inside.

When we passed his bed, he questioned, “Where are you going?”

“To shower. We’re filthy.”

“Hennessy—”

I looked back at him. “Trust me.”

Once we were in the bathroom, I turned on the shower, and within seconds, the glass fogged up from the steam of the hot water. Not letting go of his hand, I spun to face him.

His eyes never lied to me. They were curious about how far I wanted to take this. There was no unease in my hands as I let go of his to unbutton his shirt. One by one, my fingers moved down his torso before carefully pulling it down off his arms, cautious not to hurt all the bruises already forming on his body.

“How’s your leg? You’re limping.”

He grinned. “I’ll live.” Softly, he caressed my neck. “That motherfucker’s hands were all over your throat. You got a nasty bruise. You’ll have to cover that up.”

I repeated his words, smiling. “I’ll live.”

“You almost didn’t.”

I smiled wider. “Now I have a legend to tell my kids.”

“Kids, huh?”

“Mm-hmm…”

Once he was shirtless, something came over me. I leaned in and softly kissed all over his chest while peering up at him through my lashes.

My hands reached for his belt and the button of his slacks, stripping them off as well, letting them fall to his ankles. He stepped out of them, never breaking our intense connection.

In one quick move, I undressed—my Academy uniform, bra, panties, and knee-high socks. His prying stare quickly turned predatory with desire. I smiled, loving the reaction my body evoked in his face. Stepping back into the shower, I brought him with me.

He closed the doors as I approached him with caution, terrified he’d push me away but not caring if he did. Tenderly, I touched the bruises and cuts that ruined his once soft skin on his chest, his arms, and his stomach. I even caressed the scars on his back from the whipping he took for just kissing me.

I wanted to remember this moment, seeing him vulnerable. My beautiful broken boy.

Mine.

His body shuddered when I touched him, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. My fingers moved to his sides. I wanted to get rid of all the hurt and torment he might be feeling.

For me.

He grabbed my hand, unable to handle the affection. Gripping my face, he scolded, “You have no fucking sense, Hennessy! Not one bit of fucking sense… How could you do that?”

“You expected me to let your father die in front of you? Come on, you have to know me better than that. It would’ve ruined whatever is left of you, and I couldn’t let that happen, not when I’m in love with you.”

He narrowed his stare at me, gripping my face a little harder. There under the hot cascading water above our heads.