Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1)

Reagan shook her head, feeling shy all of a sudden. Sure he had just been fucking her against a brick wall, but there was something about the idea of showering with him that felt too…intimate.

“I’ll go after you if that’s okay.” Not that she had anything to wear once she got it, but she was in desperate need of one.

Like he had read her thoughts, he held his bag up, “I’ve got you covered on that front.”

As Niklaus disappeared into the bathroom, Reagan lay back, listening to the shower as it kicked on, letting her mind drift a different time when she hadn’t been as happy with Niklaus.

Already, she had to remind herself that she was still angry with him, that what he had done was not okay. But what was the point when she had already let him do exactly what he wanted? She wasn’t usually so easily bent to someone’s will, but when it came to Niklaus—he made her weak.

By the time he was walking back out the bathroom, his skin still damp from his shower, her fatigue was already setting in. She had to force herself to get up and shower away the night, then pull on Niklaus’ clothes as she crawled into the bed beside him.

She was waiting for that first caress of her skin, could practically feel it already though he had yet to actually touch her, but he didn’t touch her—at least not in that way.

His touch was surer, less lingering as he pulled her into his side, curving her into the fold of his body.

When she looked up to him for an explanation, he merely shrugged and said, “I told you we would talk.”

“Okay, tell me why you left.”

“I had another job,” he answered back immediately.

“Why didn’t you say you were leaving? You know I showed up one day and they said you had never been checked in.” Though the man that had told her didn’t look he necessarily told the truth all the time.

“If I came to see you before I left, I wouldn’t have.”

“Niklaus…”

“I’m serious.”

She shook her head, still disbelieving. “You don’t have to say that—you’ve already convinced me to sleep with you again.”

“I mean it.”

“Maybe you do.”

“You don’t believe me,” he said, though he didn’t sound offended in the slightest.

“Why should I? You haven’t given me much reason to. I know nothing about you.”

“Then ask.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” she said. “Just tell me everything, anything you’re willing to say.”

And he did, though he spoke haltingly. He told her about his childhood, about growing up poor with a mother that did everything in her power to make his life good.

The way he spoke about her, so easily, and with genuine adoration in his tone, she could tell he loved her very much, but there was also a wistful note to his voice that made her wonder how long it had been since he had last seen her.

“Why don’t you go visit her?” she asked.

His lips parted, but no words come out, not immediately. “I’ll save that story for another time.”

“Then tell me something else.” She didn’t expect to get all his secrets in a night, not even in two.

Niklaus didn’t hesitate in telling her more, his voice soothing as he wove stories of his life and the sketchy encounters he always found himself in.

At some point, as she remained tucked into his side, she fell asleep listening to his voice.



* * *



Reagan had fallen asleep with her head on Niklaus’ chest as he’d traced indiscernible patterns along her skin with his fingertips. She couldn’t think of a single person that she had wanted to fall asleep next to, at least not this deeply.

But she hadn’t been so far under that his movements hadn’t eventually jostled her awake.

At first, she had thought he was trying to wake her, but as she opened her eyes, gently sliding out of his hold, she realized that he was still fast asleep, his eyes darting behind closed lids. Even with just the tension in his body, she knew something was wrong and wanted to soothe whatever it was away, but it was the stricken look on his face that worried her most.

While he slept, he didn’t look as defiant, as dangerous as he did when he was awake and able to use words to his advantage. She had seen him asleep before, if only briefly, and during that time, he had looked like the weight of the world was finally off his shoulders, and he could breathe again.

Now? Well, now he looked like that weight was back on and it was crushing him.

Without thinking, Reagan reached for him, smoothing her fingers over his shoulders, hoping to ease the tension that seemed to be bundled there, but her touch had just skipped over the scarred tattoo when he suddenly bolted up, grabbing hold of her wrists as he went.

In seconds she was underneath him in the bed, her hands gripped so tightly that even if she wanted to get free, she couldn’t.

“Niklaus,” she whispered, careful to keep her voice down with the frenzy she could see in his gaze. “It’s me.”

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