“They’re already in my Jeep. Let’s have a shower. Then we can sort things out.”
She nodded, but didn’t make an attempt to undress. He knelt in front of her and unlaced her boots, then removed them and her socks. He took his own off, then stood to tackle the rest of her clothing.
His hands didn’t shake as he unbuttoned her camp shirt and removed it. He lifted her camisole over her head. She couldn’t have stopped him if she wanted, which she didn’t. He unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. His mouth took hers when he slipped his fingers down the sides of her hips, pushing her pants and underwear off. She kicked them off, then slipped off her bra.
He yanked his shirt off and pushed his jeans and underwear down, freeing himself, in all his rigid glory.
Ash’s mouth went dry. She still seemed unable to form a coherent sentence, so she just surrendered to the moment. He left his clothes where he dropped them and crossed the room toward her. Maybe she’d gotten his angry expression confused with intensity. His nostrils were flared. That wrinkle across his nose was there, but his hands were gentle and his mouth lush as he lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against the rough hair on his chest. She buried her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him, needing a break from the sour smell of the dirt. His skin had that delicious scent of fresh rain. He was heaven and earth and man, deliciously wrapped up in muscles and frowns and those fucking intense eyes of his.
He carried her into the small shower, setting her on her feet and pressing her body against the cool tiles as he turned the water on. It came out warm, easing the tension in her skin. He made quick work of washing them both, head to foot. She closed her eyes and let him tend to her. Every stroke was soothing, giving her back pieces of her soul she’d thought she’d lost.
He held her as the stream of water rinsed their bodies. Right there, in his arms, she was home. Anything outside of his body made no sense, but where their skin touched, everything was right.
After a moment, he took hold of her face with both hands and kissed her like a man starving for the connection only his woman could give him. She couldn’t resist him, couldn’t hold anything from him. When he bent slightly, lifting her, spreading her thighs over his hips, and entered her, the sensation of being one with him burst through her. His need, his hunger, his loneliness matched hers. She locked her legs around his hips as he pumped into her. She loved the feel of his big body, the steely tension all over him. She ran her hands up his arms, over his back. She pressed her face into his shoulder. She was close. God, so close. She ran her teeth along the edge of his shoulder as she fought giving in to the sensations rolling over her, pounding through her. He wrapped one arm tighter around her waist, but with his free hand, he caught her face. Using his whole hand, he smoothed the wet hair from her face.
Look at me, he said, except he didn’t speak audibly. His words went right into her mind. Now, Ash. He was nose to nose with her, and when she met his eyes, they were glowing an electric orange, like a slice of the setting sun slashed across them. When he kissed the side of her mouth, she lost the tight control she’d kept over her orgasm. It rumbled through her like a dormant beast rising. She couldn’t get to the other side of it. One ripple of ecstasy triggered the next. It wasn’t until he grew still that her body had a chance to ease back to reality, but by then, she was out of breath and too weak to stand without his support.
She leaned her head back and looked at him, realizing just then that no sunlight ever hit the bathroom.
This place. It messed with her mind. Was it blessed or cursed? Maybe the line between the two was thin and shifting.
He gave her a little smile. “You good to stand?”
She shook her head.
He carried her out of the shower, set her on her feet, then supported her while he reached for a towel. “We need to talk.”
She nodded, but he was rubbing the towel over her head.
When they were both dry, he led her to the bed and lifted the sheet for her to get in. “What I have to tell you isn’t going to be easy—for either of us—but I need to let you remember what happened tonight.”
Oh, fuck. There he went, making crazy sound sane. What made him think he could control anything in her mind?
In that moment, all the night’s activities became clear. She remembered everything. Nausea slammed into her. She gasped and tried to push free, but he held her tight.
“What you saw tonight, your vision, it did happen. But not in the order it was presented to you. I’ve told you Flynn is my enemy. He manipulated what you saw.”
“Jack, you mean.”
“No. His real name is Brett Flynn.”
“Brett? The guy who tormented Summer? He’s here?”
Merc nodded.
She glared at him. “Who talks about people as enemies?” she asked. “You mean he was a former friend. No one has enemies.”
“I do. My whole Legion does. He was never a friend.”
What was she dealing with here with Merc and the game and its players? The Legion was his team?
“What’s the name of Brett’s team?”
“The Omnis.” It’s time for you to know some things. I wanted to leave you out of this, but I can’t now.
“Merc…have you taken your meds today?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re talking right into my head.”
“And you’re hearing me?”
She nodded.
“I think that makes you the crazy one, not me.” He grinned at her. Goddamn. The look on him was irresistible. She pressed her hands to her head. She was losing it. Wait. She wasn’t the one with multiple personalities. Was she?
“I don’t have schizophrenia,” he said. “Nor do you.”
She glared at him, then rolled out of bed and fetched her clothes. She couldn’t deal with this convo naked. She didn’t chance a look at him or she’d be in bed and would never get to the bottom of this.
“You should trust what you’re experiencing.”
“It doesn’t make sense.” She rubbed her fingertips over her forehead. “None of this makes sense.”
“True, that. For a regular, anyway.”
Ash frowned at Merc. Everything he said was just slightly off. Like, it was English, but not words that made sense.
“Brett Flynn is evil. Pure evil. And he’s got his sights on you.”
She left that last statement alone as she sat on the edge of the bed. “How is it that he has a normal name but you don’t?”
Merc shrugged. “Not something I give a fuck about. Ask me something else.”
“He had two faces, one under the other.”
“I’m surprised you could see that.”
“It was just a flash, but how is that possible?”
“It’s complicated, but what matters is that you could see the real Flynn.”
“Which face was the real one?”
“The scarred face was the real him.”
“What happened to him?”
“An infection that didn’t heal well.”
Ash stared at him, then grabbed his cheeks in her hands and twisted as much has she could. “How many faces do you have?”
“As many as I need. And ouch.” He took her wrists and pulled her hands away.