Page 94 of Break Me Open
I stand there alone in the stairwell afterwards, my pulse still racing, my skin buzzing where he touched me, thinking. This isn’t restraint; this is foreplay stretched over weeks and it’s going to end badly, one way or another.
The notice board outside admin is crowded. Men are stopping and starting in front of it like it’s nothing more than a rota, another list of names. I wasn’t looking for anything — okay, that's a lie. I knew what I would see before my eyes locked in on my name. Below are the departure date, time, and location. It doesn’t feel like I thought it would. It’s like a hollow... click. Or a door shutting somewhere deep inside me.
Ten days. That’s all that’s left.
Ten days to pretend it’s not already over.
Later, I’m halfway back to my bunk when I hear my name behind me. “Varrik.” I stop and turn. Ari is standing at the far end of the corridor, half in the shadow, arms folded as if he’s been waiting there a while. No one else is around, and my heart jumps straight into my throat.
He jerks his chin once; it’s a silent ‘come here.’ When I’m close enough, he speaks without looking at me. “Motorpool. Twenty minutes. After lights out.”
That’s it, no explanation, reassurance, or“are you okay?”No mention of the schedule that’s currently making my insides twist and turn. “Ari...”
He finally looks at me then; his eyes are unreadable. “Don’t be late,” he says quietly. Then he turns and walks away, already disappearing back into the base like he didn’t just knock the air out of my lungs.
I stand there for a second with my heart pounding and my brain scrambling to catch up. This is stupid and reckless. This is exactly how everything with him works. As I head back toward my bunk to wait it out, a thought settles in the back of my mind.
He knows.
He’s seen the posting.
By the time I reach the motor pool, I’m already wound tight and feeling the nerves. This isn’t new; it’s routine. We’ve been doing this for weeks now, finding the spaces no one bothers to check twice; the gaps between orders and lights out where the base forgets to watch.
The motor pool is one of ours. Covered trucks parked nose to tail, canvas sides, engines cold and dead for the night. I circle around the back of one of them and tap twice against themetal. The tarp lifts from the inside. Ari’s already in there. He reaches out, grips the front of my jacket, and hauls me up without a word. The canvas drops behind me, and suddenly everything is dark.
I smell the diesel and feel the familiar press of him against me. His mouth is on mine before my back hits the truck bed. I make a sound I don’t mean to, his hand slides to the back of my neck, and his fingers thread into my hair like he knows exactly how much pressure it takes to knock my brain offline. “Missed you too,” I murmur into his mouth, but he doesn’t answer. He’s too busy trying to turn my brain to mush.
My hands slide up under his jacket, along the familiar path of muscle, body heat, and the steady rise and fall of his breathing. He hums quietly when I kiss along his jaw, when my mouth finds that spot on his throat that makes his shoulders dip just slightly, and his body visibly shiver. We’ve taught each other in fragments like this. Stolen minutes, lips and fingers tracing the same lines repeatedly, like repetition might make it permanent.
Ari shifts, nudging my legs wider, and I laugh softly against his mouth. “Always bossy,” I whisper.
He smiles against my lips.“Always obedient,” he murmurs back. I roll my eyes, but my fingers tighten, digging them into his back anyway, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between us.
Ari presses his forehead to mine, breathing steady, close enough that I can feel the brush of his lashes when he blinks.
For a second, we stay like that, basking in the quiet of being exactly where we’re not supposed to be.His thumb brushes my cheek; it’s absent, and thoughtful. I tilt my head, chasing his mouth again, because if I stop moving, my brain might start doing things I don’t want it to do tonight.
Hekisses me back, slower now, deeper. His hand slides to my waist as he eases us sideways so I’m half under him, half tangled with him.
Ari murmurs something in Russian against my mouth. I smile into the kiss, teasing. “You’re going to have to translate that for me.” He doesn’t answer. He kisses me again instead. And somewhere, deep under the heat, habit and hands I already know, something’s shifted — just enough that I feel it.
It’s not danger.
It’s something worse.
Thirty-Six
Arseny
He’s rolled half on top of me, half tangled in my arms, all elbows and that stupid quiet focus he gets when he’s paying attention. He’s not teasing; he’s just there. Present, it does stupid things to my head. “Say something to me in Russian,” Caiden murmurs, his mouth brushing my lips. “It’s sexy.”
I snort softly. “That’s because you don’t know what I’m saying.”
“Still sounds hot,” he says. I roll my eyes and flip us, pinning him more comfortably beneath me; my knee nudges between his thighs, and he makes a quiet, happy sound.
“Ty krasivyy.”You are beautiful, I say without thinking, brushing my thumb along his cheekbone.
He hums. “I’m going to assume that was flattering.”
