The Game: Chapter 8

I take deep breaths. In and out. A roaring sound fills in my ears, the one that comes when I fight. I don’t want to go to that dark place. I hate it there. I fucking hate that I’m this way. That he made me this way. Even from hell, my father still has his grips on me.

.

When Hunter touched me, it was like being thrown back to a place that haunts me. My mind playing tricks on me, flashbacks of the pain, the . Spiraling me to a safe place in my mind, but it’s a place that was born of fear and anger. It’s where I learned to fight back, and it scares me that this can happen with Mila so close to me. I don’t want to hurt her.

Living like this is hell. All I want to do is cuddle and love Mila. I can barely let her touch me. I know it hurts her, that she could trigger me. Fuck, it hurts me too. It kills me.

I want all the bad shit that happened to me to go away. I want to forget all the damaged parts of me from the past and move forward, but it can’t. It’s like I’m stuck in limbo.

Hunter didn’t mean to touch me—I know that—but some part of me still reacts to it. It’s like a reflex. I’ve never done that before to Hunter. Never shown how bad it is to be touched. My vision clouded, and I lashed out and hit him away without even blinking. I didn’t see Hunter. I just saw … my father’s eyes as I had so many times before. The only time he touched me was to beat me.

.

I closed my eyes, and like the therapist told me to when I see bad stuff, I focused on my breathing and that I’m safe. I hadn’t told her much about my father, but she knew. She understands my triggers.

Focus on my breathing and the two most important people in my world—Mila and Hunter.

Opening my eyes, I look down at Mila. Her hand hovers just above my chest, and she has a small smile on her face. I know she’s trying to reach out and comfort me, but right now, it feels more like pity, and I know she doesn’t mean that.

Hunter clears his throat, and a cold feeling washes over me. I fear the look I will see on his face because of what I just did. But he’s smiling at me.

“Your cock is going soft. Makes mine look huge, finally.” And he winks.

Mila giggles and shoves Hunter away. Her hand on his chest makes me ache for the same. I want that.

. I run my hands through my hair and turn from them. I need a few more moments. I need to stay. I need to run. I need—

“Roman, come to me,” Mila calls out.

I throw my head up and look at the ceiling. I feel her move around me, close enough to touch me, but she doesn’t. I hold my breath and say something that surprises not only Hunter and Mila but myself. “Touch me. My chest. My back.

.”

I keep my eyes closed. I need to do this with my eyes closed. I need to feel without knowing where it’s coming from.

“Roman?” Her voice cracks.

I grunt, my arms dropping to my sides, and stand there like a statue waiting and hoping she will follow through.

At first, I feel the air shift against my bare skin as she moves around me. She can see all my scars; everything’s on display to them both right now, and I stand a little taller.

Her fingers graze the inside of my palm, and I relax a little at the simple touch. I love to hold her hand. Her hands are so soft compared to my rough, calloused ones.

I feel her trace up the inside of my arm as her fingers graze over my tattoos, her light touch almost tickling, and I let out a small sigh. It feels so nice. I didn’t know it would feel like this. She pauses for a moment then continues. Her fingers dance along my shoulder where Hunter just held on to only moments before, the touch setting me off.

I tell my mind this is Mila as she dances her fingertips along the back of my neck to my other shoulder. She lets out a tiny little huff, and I open my eyes, turning to see her on her tippy toes.

She grins up at me, and I smile. She tilts her head and wrinkles her nose in that cute way that’s all Mila. “You realize you’re really tall, right?”

A deep chuckle rumbles in my chest. She is tiny compared to me, and I love that. I love how small she is against me and in my arms. I worry she’s going to stop touching me because I’m too tall for her, but she walks on the balls of her feet so she’s facing me.

I can’t close my eyes now. I need to see her big blue eyes observing me. Need to see her smiling as her fingers trail a line across my chest, down slowly over my abs, until she grips my semi-hard cock and gives me a firm stroke.

My eyes widen at that. I wasn’t expecting her to do and my response has her giggling. But then her face grows serious, and I worry about what she’s going to say. That I’m so damaged she doesn’t want to be with someone like me… someone she can’t even touch.

“You don’t need to be fixed, Roman. That would mean you’re broken, and you’re not. Far from it. Never think that anything is wrong with the way you are, because we don’t. You’re my Roman, and I love you for who are. You’re all I need. You, me, Hunter.”

Her other hand moves to my chest and presses over my heart. I reach up and hold it there against me. Hunter makes a sound before he moves around my unprotected back, like he did when he entered the room earlier. He does that a lot, and I never realized it until now.

Fuck, he really is one of a kind. Best friend and my blood brother.

“We want to keep playing?” he asks me. “Or watch a movie and pig out on chocolate and popcorn?”

I don’t know. After I ruined the moment, how can we go back?

I look at Mila. Her hand is still gripping my cock, and she winks up at me as she squeezes it. It’s growing hard again under her touch. “Up to you. I already got an orgasm. But don’t overthink what just happened.” She strokes me a few times, and I groan. Tilting her head to the side, she eyes my cock, then slowly draws her gaze back to mine.

“A little encouragement? Mila, you naughty minx,” Hunter teases her.

I grip her shoulder and let out a deep, shuddering breath. “Play,” I answer.