Nine-tenths of the Law

Chapter Twenty-two

We were both still.

The front of his shirt was bunched in my hands and his lips were against mine, but neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed.

My heart thundered in my chest, but the space around us was silent. My mind raced. I’d succeeded in quieting us, in halting the argument in its tracks, even if it was only for a second. He hadn’t pulled away, but I had no idea what was going to happen next.

I broke the kiss, but didn’t release his shirt. We stared at each other, taking rapid, shallow breaths, as out of breath from the kiss as from the shouting.

His gaze locked on mine, Nathan swallowed hard. His lips thinned into the familiar taut, bleached line. For a moment, I regretted making that move. This silent faceoff was more unnerving than the arguing had been.

All at once, his hands went to the sides of my face and he kissed me, the sheer force of his advance knocking me backward. The counter stopped me, but I couldn’t decide whether or not it hurt because my every sense was focused on his kiss.

There was nothing gentle about the way he kissed me. His mouth tasted of smoke, just as I’d suspected, and every movement of his lips and tongue was demanding, even violent. I let go of his shirt and grabbed the sides of his neck, holding on to him the way he held my face, not caring if my fingers dug in, only that he stayed here. Stayed right here.

I put my foot against the cabinet behind me and used it as leverage to force both of us away from the counter. The opposite counter caught us, knocking a grunt-of surprise? Pain?-out of him. He faltered for only a second though, growling into my kiss and grasping my hair so hard it hurt.

This beat the hell out of screaming at each other, but it wasn’t over yet. We were both too angry to see reason, and that anger needed an outlet. Some sort of release. We’d both already said too much, even if neither of us had heard a damned thing, so talking-if we could call it that-wasn’t helping. Short of calling it quits and parting ways, there was only one way we were going to see the other side of this, and that was to relieve this tension.

And if that meant fucking when we could barely stand the sight of each other, then so be it.

We moved out of the kitchen, stumbling toward the stairs as we fought to get out of our clothing. He almost knocked me off my feet when he pulled my belt free. I very nearly tore some buttons off of his shirt.

On the way down the hall, I shoved his shirt off his shoulders. He jerked his hands free of the sleeves and grabbed the back of my neck, keeping me from pulling away as he kissed me. My back slammed against the wall, knocking the air out of my lungs, but it wasn’t enough to make me break this violent kiss. Something crashed, but I couldn’t tell if it was because we’d collided with it or if a thrown piece of clothing knocked it over, and I really didn’t give a shit.

I reached up to grasp his hair, but my fingers ran through it slowly, almost tenderly. He shuddered and loosened his grip on the back of my neck. Moving together, slower now, we inched closer to the stairs. On the way up, I took my shirt off, and when we reached the top, I tossed it aside just before I pushed him up against the wall and kissed him.

The more we kissed and the less clothing there was to divide us, the slower we moved. Our hands quieted. Every kiss was gentler than the one before. When we sank into bed together, the rage was gone. We simply wanted each other now. Needed each other.

Somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom, we had become lovers again.

I rolled him onto his back and raised myself over him on one arm. With my free hand, I ran my fingertips down the sides of his face. Were we really screaming at each other downstairs?

His lips parted as if he was about to say something, but he drew only half a breath, the air catching in his throat when his eyes met mine. Whatever he thought to say, he must have thought better of it, because instead of speaking, he did the same thing he’d done in the kitchen a lifetime ago: Put his hands on my face-gently this time-and kissed me, sitting up to meet me halfway before we both fell slowly back to the bed.

This kiss had every bit of the breathless fervor from earlier, but none of the anger. No violence, no demands.

It was his turn to change position, easing me onto my back without breaking the kiss once. When his torso shifted slightly, I didn’t have to look to know what he was reaching for. The familiar sound of the nightstand drawer made me shiver with anticipation.

Only then did he break the kiss, our eyes meeting as he tore the wrapper with his teeth. Whatever had happened downstairs, we’d deal with eventually. As far as this moment was concerned, we were on the same page, and that was good enough for me.

Sitting up, he quickly rolled the condom on and put some lube on it. Then, he guided his cock to me. I bit my lip, trying not to shake with anticipation.

“Oh, my God,” he said as he slid into me. Even more than the physical sensations, it was his voice that made my breath catch and, for a moment, I didn’t understand why. Then I realized it was the first thing either of us had said since I’d kissed him into silence. The last thing out of either of our mouths had been angry screaming. The next thing out of his was a breathy whisper of arousal.

Our eyes met and he came down to kiss me as his hips found a steady, fluid rhythm. How long we moved like that, I couldn’t say. All I knew was how incredible he felt and tasted and smelled and how the hell is this the same person I was fighting with?

“Oh, Jesus,” he moaned. “You feel so good…”

“So do you,” I whispered, holding on to his shoulders as he moved deeper inside me. He did feel good. He felt incredible. Better than he ever had before.

I touched his face and he turned to kiss my palm. It feels this good because you’re still here.

“Oh, God,” he said, grimacing and shuddering. “Fuck, I’m so close, but I don’t want-” He gasped. “I don’t want to before you do.”

My fingers dug into his shoulders and my back arched off the bed. “Just keep…” My eyes rolled back and electricity surged up my spine. “Just like that…”

He thrust harder, groaning as another shudder drove him even deeper. “Oh, God, Zach, I can’t-”

The entire world went white. I don’t know if either of us made a sound because the only thing that existed was the powerful orgasm that completely consumed every shred of my awareness. A low vibration worked its way into my consciousness-a voice, though I couldn’t be sure whose-and as the rest of the universe pieced itself back together around me, I realized he had slowed down. His rapid thrusts had been reduced to long, lazy strokes, each slower than the last until his hips only moved in a subtle, slurred imitation of everything he’d done before.

He raised his head and we looked at each other, but still neither of us spoke. After a moment, he sank down to me, resting his head on my shoulders as I wrapped my arms around him. I ran my fingers through his hair, simply listening to him breathe for the longest time.

I’m still here, every breath said. I’m not going anywhere.