Page 20 of Rowan: His Exception

"Rowan… I'm going to…"

"Together," he growls. "Come with me. Now."

He thrusts deep, holds there, and I feel his cock getting harder, pulsing inside me. Then I feel the hot flood of his release as my own orgasm crashes over me, both of us crying out, shaking, clinging to each other.

We stay like that, neither of us moves. The storm is still going strong outside. But in here, wrapped around each other, we're safe.

Slowly, he starts to pull out, but he doesn't let me go. He lifts me off the table and carries me to the only bed. The frame creaks as he settles us both onto the thin mattress. He wraps his arms around me and holds me so tight, his face buried in my neck.

"I was supposed to protect you," he whispers, and I hear the old wound in it, the guilt, the fear.

"You did." I hold him back just as tight. "You are."

"Not from me."

I pull back enough to meet his eyes. "I didn't want protection from you, Rowan. I wanted you."

He stares at me, with something vulnerable and new in his expression, something that looks almost like hope. "What happens when we get back? When there's no storm, no flood, no excuse?"

I touch his face, tracing the hard line of his jaw. "We’ll figure it out. Together."

He turns into my touch and presses a kiss to my palm. "I've never done ‘together,’" he admits quietly. "I don't know how."

I smile, it’s small but real. "Me neither. But I'm willing to learn. With you."

The rain begins to lighten up. And through the dirty windows, I can see the floodwaters still churning, but the worst has passed. We cling to each other on that narrow bed, two people who found something worth holding onto in the middle of the storm.

"Rowan?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time, can we do this somewhere with a bigger bed?"

He laughs, the sound warm, and pulls me closer. "Yeah, baby. Next time, I'll make sure there’s a bigger bed. And a door that locks."

"Promise?"

He kisses me again. This time, soft and slow, not the desperate fury from before. "Promise."

The next morning, we wake wrapped in each other's arms, the morning sun bright. The floodwaters have finally receded enough to risk the hike back.

It takes hours. We're exhausted, bruised in places I didn't know I could bruise, tender in the best possible way. But when we finally make our way back to where it all started, we head straight for the parking lot to Rowan's truck. Completely disregarding the fact that I have my own vehicle parked close by.

"Well, well. Look who finally made it back." The same guy who was helping Rowan yesterday pushes off from where he's leaning against a beat-up truck, arms crossed, “It’ll pass, huh?” That same smirk plastered across his face. "Thought for sure you'd have drowned him by now, sweetheart."

Rowan doesn't break stride. "Fuck off, Asher."

"That's the thanks I get? I kept your spot warm."

Rowan flips him off without looking back, already pulling the passenger door open for me. "Did Dave make it back?"

"Everyone's accounted for. Dave's over there trying to get his new girlfriend's number." Asher's eyes move to me, reassessing. "The storm's got the east pass flooded. You two might want to stick around for a bit longer."

Rowan's jaw tightens. "We'll manage."

“Sure you will,” he’s laughing as he walks away. "Try not to kill each other."

That's when I see Lou. She's perched on the tailgate of her own truck, paper coffee cups and a grease-stained bag from the diner arranged around her. She hops down, her eyes darting between Rowan and me, taking in my wet clothes, his hand on my lower back, and the way we stand too close.