The One He Never Held novel · Chapter 15 of 24

Chapter 15: Hold Me

The room had one lamp, one bed and a radiator that knocked.

Damian stood just inside the door, dripping onto the carpet.

I put the key on the dresser and turned on the heater. My hands were shaking, and it wasn't from the cold.

"Take off your shirt," I said. "It's soaked through."

He didn't move.

"Damian."

"If I take off my shirt," he said slowly, "I won't be able to act like I'm only here for the storm."

"Then don't act."

He looked at me for a long moment.

Then he undid the buttons with fingers that wouldn't work right, and dropped the shirt over the chair.

I had seen him in a towel once, by accident, in the first year. I had looked at the wall for ten minutes afterward.

I looked now.

There was a long pale scar under his ribs I had never known about, and the rain still ran down his chest in lines.

"Terms, Mr. Deverill," I said. My voice came out rough. "No touching."

A short laugh broke out of him.

"I voided them in the coat room."

"You said 'then void them' in my brother's kitchen. I never answered."

"Answer now."

I crossed the room.

I put my palm flat on the scar, and he stopped breathing.

"Void," I said.

He kissed me.

It was nothing like the coat room. There was no dark to hide in, no phones buzzing, no one on the other side of the door.

His mouth was warm and slow and certain, and when I opened mine he groaned into it.

"Jo," he said against my lips. "Jo."

"I thought you didn't want me."

"Then stop thinking it."

He pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were wet.

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