Power of the mind shadow.., p.12
Power of the Mind (Shadowy Solutions Book 2), page 12
“At ease, soldier,” he whispered as he displayed a hand. It was the warning he often gave before touching me, and I appreciated it more than he knew. Tallus always ensured I was prepared for contact. Sadly, he’d learned what could happen if he didn’t.
He understood my hang-ups.
I waited on pins and needles, watching his hand and readying myself.
It wasn’t often Tallus did more than massage his fingers over my scalp, but there had been a handful of times when I’d stormed his house in the middle of the night when he’d pushed boundaries. When those hands had wandered over my body in a way that plunged me into madness.
I’d never stopped him. In fact, I loved when he touched me. But I’d never been able to return the affection. I’d never been able to loosen up and enjoy it or verbalize how it made me feel.
Tallus went with the familiar, stroking his fingers over my scalp. His focus was on my face, on my reactions. It felt good, and the tension vanished as I relaxed a fraction. It was comforting.
“Do you like it went I touch you like this?”
I stared at his chest through the thin tank top and nodded, my throat too dry to speak.
“Diem, use words.”
“Yes,” I croaked.
He tilted my head so I stared into his eyes. Their warmth enveloped me. I missed his glasses, but without them, the flecks of gold and emerald swimming in the pools of his eyes stood out. It was subtle, but the colors shifted ever so slightly with his mood. They appeared more amber when he was subdued or tired and greener when he was flirtatious and playful. The deeper shades of brown became more prominent when he was serious or upset.
At the moment, his irises were a kaleidoscope of browns and greens and golds, and I didn’t know what it meant. They reflected warmth and kindness. They asked a thousand questions I couldn’t answer. They seemed to be able to bypass my barriers and see right into my soul, and that terrified me because there was nothing nice to see down there, and I worried the truth would scare him off.
His fingers moved from my shorn hair to my face. The pads danced lightly over my unshaven cheek, rasping along the remains of an old silver scar. The touch was intimate, but the location was personal, and it was messing with my head.
I closed my eyes when echoes of the past made me want to draw back. I tried to stay present, but the pull was too strong. I felt sudden, slashing pain as his weapon of choice made contact and split my cheek wide open. I smelled the recently oiled chain mixed with the coppery scent of my own blood as it streamed down my face. I tasted iron and rust as it coated my lips. I heard his shouts of anger and her screams of protest. I—
“Diem.”
Something touched my hand, and I catapulted back to the present, eyes flying open on a gasp. Tallus. Tallus was in front of me. Closer than ever. His hands were wrapped around my clenched fists, trying to break the tension, but it was like cracking granite.
“It’s me,” he said, an edge of worry in his tone, a hint of concern wrinkling his brow. Was he remembering a day many months ago when I’d been caught in the past and had almost decked him because he’d touched me during a nasty flashback?
“You’re okay.”
I wasn’t. I was never okay.
Chest heaving, I remained still as I reconnected with the present using Dr. Peterson’s method of grounding myself using my five senses. I could see Tallus. Over the pounding of my heart, I could hear the sitcom’s laugh track and the actor’s chatter. I could feel Tallus’s hands covering mine. I could smell his cologne. But it was bile that filled my mouth, choking me, and it wouldn’t go away.
I needed a drink. A cigarette.
Tallus worked my fists loose, and when I stopped clenching, he wove his fingers with mine so we were holding hands. His gaze was invasive and intense. He wanted to know what had happened and where I’d gone, but he didn’t want to ask.
“Do you want me to go?”
“No.”
He sat motionless, staring with such sorrow I had to look away. I wanted to pull my hands free but didn’t. I wanted to explain everything but couldn’t. I didn’t have the capacity to do more than sit there numb.
Why was he here? Why me, of all people?
“You really can’t do this, can you?” he said after a time.
What was I supposed to say to that? I told you so?
“No. I mean… It’s not that I don’t want to. I don’t know why you’ve ever looked twice at me. Any guy would be a fucking idiot to turn you away, but…”
“Then why are you turning me away?”
“I don’t want to. I want to be able to do this, but I can’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
And I couldn’t explain.
“Give me something, D. A reason. An explanation. I’m confused. You give every sign that you’re into me. You follow me around the city and sit outside my apartment. You show up at my door.”
Ashamed, I ducked my chin. “I know.”
“But you keep me at arm’s length. When I try to move forward, you retreat. Help me understand. Give me something, anything to help it make sense.”
“I’m not a good person.”
“Bullshit. You’re the only one who believes that because I certainly don’t.”
I stared at where he held my hands, wondering at the effortlessness of the simple action and why it was such a struggle for me. But I knew why. I was in therapy for a reason.
“PTSD.” It was a blanket statement that barely scratched the surface of my issues, but it was what he requested. Also, it was the first time in my life I’d admitted it out loud to anyone other than Dr. Peterson, who was the one who diagnosed me. Was admitting my shortcomings progress? It didn’t feel good. Would Tallus judge me?
When Tallus didn’t speak or acknowledge the confession, I stole a glance at his face. His expression showed confusion.
“What?” The growl in my tone was unintentional, and I regretted it. I tried again. “Don’t look at me like that… please.”
“You weren’t in the military.”
I frowned. “Of course not… It’s not just… It’s—”
“Did something happen when you were with the department?”
“You know it didn’t. Don’t feign ignorance.”
His focus moved to the prominent scar along my face, then to my disfigured ear. “Was it all your dad?” he asked, quieter.
I pressed my lips together, neither confirming nor denying, which was answer enough.
“I’m sorry. I knew he was part of it, but…”
“Don’t be sorry. There’s… a lot more to it than that, but… I don’t… I’ve never known how to…”
I blew out a raspy breath and tore my hand free to scrub my face. “Tallus, as much as I want to do this with you, I can’t. Fuck. How can you even stand to look at me? How can you invite me in whenever I show up at your apartment. I’m completely incapable of… How do you not get frustrated when I can’t…”
Tallus chuckled. “Oh, believe me, Guns, you frustrate the fuck out of me. Don’t flatter yourself.”
The tension bled away. I almost wanted to smile with him, but I didn’t. Couldn’t. I was too ashamed. “I’m not good at talking about it.”
“You’re doing great. I think this is the most important conversation we’ve ever had, and for once, you’re using your words. Thank you.”
Heat climbed my neck and settled in my cheeks. I wanted to get up and pace, put distance between us so I could breathe, but Tallus moved his hand to my thigh, so I was once again rooted in place.
“I’m going to say some things, and you aren’t going to interrupt or disagree, got it?”
I offered a clipped nod, staring at the restricting hand. He flipped it over, and the invitation was clear.
“Come on. Let me help ground you.”
Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached out and held his hand.
“Eyes up here, Guns. You’re going to look at me when I say this.”
A low growl radiated from my chest, and Tallus chuckled. But I found his face, met his gaze, and waited with bated breath.
“Ready?”
I nodded.
“I’m going to touch you.”
I steeled myself not to react as he raised his other hand and rested a warm palm against my cheek.
“Okay?”
I nodded.
“Hold still.”
Tallus leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on my forehead. It wasn’t the first time he’d kissed me. Every time his lips came in contact with my skin—never on the mouth—I shivered. My stomach warbled.
Lingering close, Tallus spoke in a whisper. “I think you’re incredibly handsome, Diem.”
“I’m not.”
“Shush. No talking. My turn. I’m an affectionate person, and—”
“I’m not.”
Tallus stabbed a finger against my lips and shushed me again. He wasn’t mad. A glimmer of humor shone in his eyes.
“And… unless you tell me not to, I’m going to start touching you more often. I want you to—”
“I can’t return the favor.”
He pressed a hand over my mouth and laughed. “Of all the freaking times I’ve tried to get you to talk and you refuse, now I want you to shut up, you won’t.”
I almost smiled against his palm. Almost. He would have known if my lips twitched or the corners of my mouth turned up. He would have felt it against his hand. Tallus’s sass was ever present, and I liked how it diluted serious moments and made them easier to handle. I liked how its presence warmed me inside and out. He was a firecracker. Lightning in the sky on a stormy night. A lighthouse in the darkness.
How could I not be drawn to him?
“Are you listening?”
I nodded, lost in his eyes. For once, unable to look away. His focus was absolute. Tallus looked at me like there was no one else in the universe. Like nothing else mattered. Like I was important somehow and deserved all his attention.
“Do you like fucking me, Diem?”
My brows rose, and a lump formed in my throat.
“Do you like bending me over the couch and taking pleasure in my ass?”
Was it a trick question? He wouldn't have to ask if he could truly read my mind.
I nodded without hesitation.
He smirked. “I thought so. Spoiler alert. I like it too. You may not believe me, but I’m very attracted to you, Diem.”
He was right. I didn’t believe him.
“But here’s the thing. Are you listening?”
I nodded.
A long pause ensued before he continued. “I. Need. More.”
Each word was an ice pick in my chest, gouging away chunks of my frail humanity and leaving me critically wounded. I couldn’t. Didn’t he know he was asking for the impossible?
“I need—”
I peeled his hand away from my mouth before he could continue. “I can’t.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Tallus… I want to, but—”
“Stop right there. You want to. You just said it. That’s what matters.”
I growled under my breath. “I want to, but—”
“No buts. The sentence ends right there. Stop making excuses.”
“They aren’t excuses.”
“They are. Why can’t you? What is the but that is stopping you? If you want to touch me or kiss me or take me to bed properly like I know you do, why don’t you? What are you afraid of?”
The walls were closing in, and Tallus was too close. His presence sucked the air from the room. I was trapped in my own home. In my own skin. Gently, because god help me, I never wanted to hurt him, I moved him from my space and rose.
What was I afraid of? Easy. I was afraid of myself. Of who I was. Of who I had the potential to become. I was afraid of the diseased genes that lived inside me. I was afraid of losing control. Of messing up. Of disappointing him, hurting him, or scaring him. Of him discovering who I was at my core.
I was afraid of everything.
I paced to the kitchen, found nothing in the fridge, slammed the door, and went to stand beside Baby’s enclosure. I stared at the snoozing reptile as Dr. Peterson’s speech about genetics, predisposition, learned behavior, and environmental influences rolled around inside my head. We’d talked about it endlessly. Mostly, I thought about his speech surrounding affection and the root cause of the issue.
He claimed I’d made progress since bringing Baby into my life. I didn’t see it. A snake wasn’t another human being. A snake wasn’t the sexy-as-sin records clerk I dreamed about nightly. She wasn’t the man who’d fallen into my life unexpectedly ten months ago who I couldn’t shake off. The skills weren’t transferable, no matter what my idiot doctor said.
“D?”
“I don’t know how. That’s the but. I don’t know how. I’ve never… I’m not comfortable with… intimacy or affection. I know what you want, but I can’t give it to you because I don’t know how.”
He didn’t have a comeback. Maybe, for once, he was listening. But a minute later, Tallus appeared beside me. Shoulder to shoulder, we stared at Baby coiled inside her hollowed-out log. Was he thinking that my boa got more affection than he did? He wouldn’t be wrong. Baby was like me. Ugly. Hated and feared by most of the population. It was easier with Baby. She didn’t judge me for making mistakes. She never asked for more than I could give.
I felt the heat of Tallus’s gaze before he touched my arm and encouraged me to face him. The man was so confident, so sure of himself, so comfortable in his own skin. For whatever reason, I’d never scared him off the way I did most people.
Without a word, without telegraphing his actions or offering a verbal warning, he took my face between his palms and drew me to his level as he rose to his tiptoes.
I had only a moment to recognize the intent in his eyes before his lips were on mine, and he was kissing me.
12
Diem
Afire ignited in my belly and spread through my veins. Kissing Tallus was like walking on the surface of the sun. Incinerating. Blistering. It had the power to reduce me to ash. It was like tumbling blindfolded over a cliff. It was the feeling you got when the roller coaster crested the hill and plummeted down the other side. It was the fear of being lost and the joy of being found.
I had no words.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t move.
But I didn’t know how to participate or what was expected of me, so I stood there like an idiot and let it happen, proving the inadequacies I’d been trying to vocalize to him since we met.
It had been over a decade since I’d felt another man’s mouth on mine. I’d adamantly never allowed it, so my experience was limited. I’d kissed a grand total of two people in my life. Once, at a party in high school, when I was so close to blackout drunk that by morning, I’d convinced myself it hadn’t really happened. Once, on my twenty-first birthday, with the only man I’d ever dated. The following six months were a nightmare. We’d never kissed again after the first night. He was a man who’d done more harm than good to my already severely damaged mental health. I didn’t like to think about him.
But Tallus.
Tallus had starred in all my dreams for the past ten months. Yet, as he kissed me, I stood immobile, unable to participate. His mouth moved on mine. His tongue grazed my lips as he tried and failed to encourage me from my shell. After a good thirty seconds of paralysis, I found the wherewithal to mimic his motions, knowing it was glaringly obvious I had zero skill when it came to this sort of thing.
It was why I’d never let it happen. How many times had I stopped him in the past? A few. He hadn’t tried in a while.
But he caught me off guard, and for the first time, I didn’t dodge the advance. I didn’t hold him back. I didn’t tell him no.
But I was clumsy, and my awkwardness showed. My shame was suffocating.
The kiss lasted less than a minute before Tallus, hands still cradling my face, pulled back. He smiled lazily, and it shone out his eyes, more green than gold or brown. He hummed with pleasure.
“You let me kiss you.”
I grunted in affirmation.
“Was it so bad?”
I didn’t know how to answer. In my opinion, it was awful, much like the embarrassing sex we fumbled through when I showed up at his house, not because of Tallus or his skills, but because of me and my hang-ups.
His thumb brushed my bottom lip. “D? Are you upset?”
“No.”
“Was it okay?”
“Was… good,” I rasped, unable to find more words.
Another smile. “Want to try it again now that you’re more prepared?”
“Yes,” I croaked.
So he kissed me again. It wasn’t much better. My hesitancy showed, but I let Tallus be the guide and tried desperately to keep up without appearing helpless.
When the soft glide of his tongue came in contact with mine, I almost whimpered. My knees wanted to buckle. How could a kiss be so humbling?
It ended too soon. I was getting my feet beneath me when Tallus pulled back. He released my face and stepped away. “I’m going to head home.”
“You’re… What?” Home? Why? “But I thought…”
“We’re going to work on this.” He swung a finger between us. “I need you to step outside your comfort zone. You don’t need to be perfect, but if you want something with me, you need to try. Make a tiny effort. Stop treating me like a nameless hookup from Spark.”
That stung, but I deserved it because it was exactly what I’d been doing.
“Don’t be afraid to touch me, D. I want it. I like it. I need it.”
He collected his shirt, tie, socks, and shoes. At the door, he turned back. I hadn’t moved, struck dumb by the kiss and his words.
“Are we going to keep looking into Madame Rowena, or is it stupid?”
“I’ll find the neighbor.”
“Call me?”
I nodded.
