Until the World Stops - L.A. Witt Page 0,72

guilt over his ruined career to think too hard about it.

But he’d stepped up and been more than I could have ever asked him to be, and more and more, I couldn’t imagine getting through this—getting through anything—without him.

Nothing about this felt one-sided anymore. Not when Tristan was gently keeping me upright when all I wanted to do was crumble. Not after he’d been the calm and reassuring rock throughout this entire bullshit storm.

“Thanks,” I whispered, stroking his hair.

“Don’t mention it.” He didn’t let me go.

I closed my eyes and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

The whole world was on fire. That fire was way too close to me and mine.

And thank God that of all people, Tristan was the man I was “stuck” with right now.

Chapter 20

Tristan

When Casey had collected himself, we moved into the living room and sat down on the couch. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed his neck with both hands.

“Oh my God,” he murmured. “I’ve known for a while she was exposed, but… Jesus.”

“Even if you know something’s coming, that doesn’t make the confirmation easy.”

“No, it doesn’t. Never does.” With a heavy sigh, he lifted his head and turned to me, his eyes still red and his expression radiating exhaustion and fear. “What do I… I mean, how do I process this?”

I shook my head. “No idea.”

He exhaled and stared at the wall. I couldn’t even imagine how helpless and terrified he felt right then. Just seeing and feeling him fall apart had been heartbreaking; Casey had always been so rock steady, even cold, that the emotional crash was hard to watch. I wished there was more I could do, but what the hell could anyone do right now?

I slid my hand into his. “I know there’s not much I can do, but if there’s anything I can do, say the word.”

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“I mean it.” I squeezed his hand. “This is shitty as hell. If you want to take off and drive around somewhere, or go blow some cash on some booze, or whatever. You’ve got it.”

He seemed to think about it for a moment, gazing at the wall in front of us with unfocused eyes. Then he turned to me, and my breath hitched because when he met my gaze, his eyes were full of desperate hunger. “I think I need to go upstairs.” The way he was gripping my hand said he didn’t want to go up there and be alone.

He wanted to go upstairs, get naked, and forget about the world for a while.

Something tightened in the pit of my stomach, but I ignored it. I’d told him whatever he needed, and I meant it. And it wasn’t like we hadn’t been screwing six ways from Sunday already, so why did it feel wrong?

Because I’m an idiot, that’s why. Go fuck him until he doesn’t hurt anymore.

I stood, and so did he. Neither of us spoke as we headed up the stairs, and I’d barely cleared his bedroom doorway before he grabbed my belt, pulled me back, and pushed me up against the wall. Oh, yeah, he definitely needed this. From the way he was kissing me, the way his hands shook as he slid them under my shirt, he was desperate.

And I totally got it. Intellectually it seemed a little weird to be turned on after his world had been yanked out from under him like that, but I’d been there. After a particularly scary encounter with an attempted gate runner at a previous base, I’d gone home that night and driven my then-boyfriend into the mattress because all that adrenaline and fear had needed to go somewhere. I’d done the same thing after a funeral once—the grief had been too much to handle, and I hadn’t been able to breathe right until my friend with benefits and I had fucked each other senseless.

So I got it. And I wanted to give Casey what he needed right now because I knew what was driving him, so I held him tight and kissed him as hungrily as he clearly wanted it.

Anything you need, baby. Say the word.

Especially since I can’t say no.

The thought sent a rush of cold water through me so suddenly I broke the kiss with a gasp. Casey must have taken it for a reaction to being so turned on, because he started kissing my neck, but my heart was racing in a way it shouldn’t have been right then.

I wanted him.