Page 2 of Sharing Silence

My heart gallops away from me, and the heat erupting across my skin is close to dizzying. I’m back in that dream, floating between fantasy and reality. “I can’t say.”

It’s a lie. I can tell Zayden anything. He knows almost everything there is to know about me, a promise we made to each other after I discovered a truth that rocked our world four years ago. On a trip up north to celebrate our anniversary, he received a phone call that had us veering off track to help his friend. That tense journey forced a confession out of my seemingly perfect husband. His job isn’t in tech—he’s a contract killer, and so are his brothers. The information had knocked the wind out of me, and our marriage, for a while, but we worked through it. Somehow.

He runs his large, calloused hand up my thigh, squeezing once he reaches the seam of my underwear. He rubs his thumb over my crotch and hisses through his teeth. “You’re soaked. Tell me.”

“I already said … I can’t.”

“Are you being a brat, baby?”

I grin. “Maybe.”

He straightens, his hand no longer making pleasant circles over my panties. “Tell me, or you don’t get your birthday present.”

Now, I frown. “We’re not gonna have sex?”

“You have work.”

“A quickie?”

He arches a brow. “When have we ever had a quickie?”

True. The man doesn’t know the meaning of the word. We once spent a weekend away and he was inside me for most of it.

“Does Xavier know you stole his jersey?” he asks, his gaze dropping to my sleeping attire before he moves back to the bureau to slide his wedding ring on.

“No.” I wish I could see his face when he realizes, though. “He doesn’t deserve to own something this comfortable.”

“You and your silent wars.”

“Silent?” I remark, and he huffs a laugh as I climb out of bed and slink my way over to him. I wrap my arms around his waist, resting my cheek to his back. “Can I tell you what I really want for my birthday?”

He turns to face me. “Yes.”

I gaze up at him. “I want you to make all my decisions for me all weekend. My outfit, my food, what I drink, what I do … give my brain a total rest.”

Zayden angles my head up before leaning down and kissing me. “What I say goes? Sounds more like a gift to me.”

He loves the control, especially over me, and even more so because he knows how much I sometimes need it. Being a nurse is stressful, especially in the ER, and there are times I need to come home and not be presented with choices. After my shift today, I have two glorious weeks off over Christmas, and I can’t think of a better way to start that time than with my brain snoozing for most of the weekend.

“Then get in the shower. Don’t wash your hair; you can wash it tonight. Use the apricot body wash. I’ll lay out your scrubs.”

Ease washes over me, and I head to the en suite. After twisting my hair into a bun, I step under the warm spray, and I’m already soaped up when Zayden returns.

“So? Are you going to tell me about the dream or not?”

I groan. “It’s weird. Really weird. I don’t even know why my brain went there.” He says nothing, and I face him. “It was Yale and Xavier.”

For a moment, he remains expressionless. I wonder if maybe this is finally the piece of truth that drives a wedge between us, and panic spills through my blood.

Shit. Maybe there are some things you don’t say out loud, especially to your husband.

Until he smirks, quickly trying to hide it with his hand.

I flick water at him. “It’s not funny! Isn’t that totally weird? They’re your brothers.”

“My identical brothers. If anything, I’m flattered that of all the guys your mind could come up with to fuck, it was essentially just three of me.”

“Asshole.” I rinse off the foam, and he watches, a small smile on his face as his gaze travels down my body. “Can I ask you something?”