The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 569

Chapter 569: 569 | Progressive Manifestation Syndrome

"Fair," I said, and kissed her.

The water made everything slick. Sloane’s hands slid up my chest and locked behind my neck, and she pulled herself up until her toes barely touched the tile, all that coiled strength going soft against me. The choker sat wet against her throat. I dragged my mouth down to it, found the pulse underneath, and felt her breath hitch through the bond before it hitched out loud.

"That’s cheating," she said.

"What is?"

"You know exactly what my neck does to me."

"I know a lot of things about you."

"Stop being smug and do something about it."

So I did.

I lifted her by the backs of her thighs and pressed her against the shower wall, and she wrapped her legs around my waist like she’d done it a hundred times, which she had. The tile had to be cold against her back. She didn’t seem to care. Her nails scored down my shoulders and the water washed the marks away before they could bruise, and for once I appreciated the healing for something other than surviving fire.

"Ribs," she breathed, remembering.

"Ribs are fine."

"You promise?"

"I promise if you promise to stop talking."

She bit my lower lip in answer, which I chose to interpret as agreement.

We didn’t make it quick. We never did. The bond had a way of turning everything into a feedback loop, her pleasure bleeding into mine and mine spilling back into her until neither of us could tell where the sensation started. It was the single most efficient way to lose track of time ever devised, and I say that as someone with a System that literally displays timers in my field of vision. Even the interface knew better than to interrupt.

When we finished, Sloane pressed her forehead to my sternum and just breathed for a while, her heart hammering against my chest, the water running cool now because we’d burned through the hot tank the way we burned through everything.

"See," she said. "Still breathing."

"You checked?"

"I always check."

I set her down carefully. Her legs wobbled and she gripped my forearm until they steadied, and there was something almost unbearably tender about watching Sloane Fitzgerald, second-highest combat score in her cohort, need a moment to remember how to stand.

"Mom’s pizza is definitely here by now," she said.

"Mom is definitely going to know exactly what we were doing."

"Mom watched us do it forty minutes ago, Lukas. There’s no dignity left to protect."

She had a point.

"I like meat on my pizza. That’s not a personality flaw." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

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