Nothing to Fear (Wicked Games, #1)

by Jenn Plummer

Touching him right now is so different from any of the times before, knowing that I know his body already, knowing that this man is mine. Like a montage, the last few weeks replay in my head.

I could kiss Silas all day long, my heart pounding in my chest, my head swimming with thoughts of him and nothing else.

“How do I do what?” “Just be you? You make it look so easy.”

“Why waste my time being anyone other than who I am? People will either accept me, or they won’t. I won’t waste my energy on the people who don’t because they don’t matter. Love isn’t conditional, baby. You either feel it, or you don’t. The people who do don’t care about things like sexuality or gender identity. If they truly love you, they will want you to be happy, safe, and secure. I would rather live my life and be me and only be surrounded by people who love me wholeheartedly, than pretend to be someone else and be surrounded by people who will bail on me the moment they’re faced with my reality.”

“You taste so good,” he whispers. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He lets the secret escape his lips, and I can tell by the way he swallows hard against a knot in his throat, the way his breathing hitches and his eyes won’t meet mine, that it wasn’t easy on him.

at Corvus.” “Are you comfortable coming out now? I live out in the open, Silas. I don’t want to be your dirty secret. Someone you and your rugby buddies laugh and joke about. But I want you.” “Just give me some time, please? Let me digest this first. This is a lot to take in.”

“I get it. We’ll take it slow. I’m so fucking into you. This version of you. The one you keep locked up.” Silas nuzzles his face into my neck, pecking kisses against my skin, and it’s so at odds with the man who only a few weeks ago pummeled me to the ground like I was worthless.

test, and I know it’s important for both of us to do well, but I can’t stop looking at him. It’s all so surreal. Asher Ambrose is sitting at my desk. In my dorm room.

My heart trips over itself, and I know it’s too soon, I know it’s ridiculous, but I’m falling for Asher. I think a part of me fell for him the first day I met him freshman year. So much wasted time when I could have been here all along.

“Don’t stop, I need you.” Desperation is thick in my tone, and I’m not even ashamed by the whiny way it comes out. I am desperate for him. Desperate for touch. Desperate to feel. Desperate to get lost with him. Desperate to just be me without the fear of everything else that weighs me down.

“Good, I don’t think I could even if you begged,” he admits, and I know he’s full of shit. He wouldn’t want to, but I know he’d stop right away if I said it and meant it.

As long as it’s Asher, I’m happy with whatever dynamic works for us. I just want him.

“That was goddamn beautiful,” he says in awe as his eyes track over the mess. “I-ugh-I,” I mumble. Asher’s hands brush my hair out of my face. “Shh. Just breathe and come down from it. You feel okay?”

His arms pull me into him, my head resting against his chest. Asher’s heartbeat is strong as I listen intently to the organ pumping life through him.

“I’m obsessed with you,” he whispers as he runs his hands sweetly through my hair. I’ve clearly never experienced any type of aftercare, and my heart loses it, butterflies taking flight deep in my stomach, emotion welling behind my eyes. “Welcome to the club. I’ve been obsessed with you for years.”

“What do you mean?” I sigh roughly, then take a deep breath. I need to be open with him; I want to be open with him.

“Freshman year. I noticed you on the first day. I showed up at Corvus with these big plans to be open about who I am, live a normal life in a new place where no one had any preconceived notions about me. You were wearing a plain black T-shirt, ripped jeans, and had all these bracelets on your wrist. I was immediately attracted to you, but attraction aside, I was drawn to how confident you seemed; it was contagious, and I knew I wanted to be friends with you.”

“So you just decided to hate me? Because I answered a question?” “I lied to myself that I hated you, Ash, I treated you like shit to protect myself because I was jealous of you.” His head bops back at my admission. I was—am—jealous of Asher Ambrose. And I’m okay with admitting that. “Si . . .”

“No, really. You’re so carefree, Ash, so easy for everyone to like and talk to. You’re outwardly and openly yourself in everything you do and say. You come across like you have zero insecurities. I’ve always wanted to be that. It didn’t help that I was so goddamn attracted to you that it physically hurt to look at you.”

Asher smiles, swiping my hair out of my face again and leaning in to press a kiss against my lips. It’s soft and sweet and makes my heart do crazy things behind my ribs.

“I’m sorry for treating you like shit.” “It’s water under the bridge. Are you done running from me?” “Are you going to chase me down if I do?” “Yes.”

Did I purchase his jersey to wear tonight? Yes. Did I wear it? No. I channeled my inner Silas, apparently, and let fear talk me out of wearing my man’s name to his game. Even if the rest of the world doesn’t know he’s my man.

I meant what I said to him, that we could take this slow, that I would go at his pace, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to hide in the shadows.

Silas looks around for a minute, his eyes going wild as he scans the crowd in front of him, and then he sees me, the corner of those lips I love to kiss so much turning up ever so slightly, his eyes glowing with excitement.

He’s quick to mask it, but I caught it. Happiness. And if that doesn’t make my heart swell, I don’t know what would. Silas Blackwood is happy to see that I’m here.

He’s centered, present, calm, and confident. He’s the man I’ve started to fall in love with. Hell, he’s the man I am in love with. Which might sound batshit crazy, but when everything in life is pointing me in one direction, I trust my intuition, and it’s all in agreement.

Silas Blackwood is mine, and I’m his.

He acknowledged me after his win, and while it wasn’t some grand gesture of love and outing himself to everyone around us, it was enough.

My chest filled with pride watching him, and I can’t wait to show him how much when I get him alone later.

“You’ll keep it between us?” “I’ve already put it together, man. Just give it to me straight.” “I fell for him. I’m obsessed. Everything about him is infectious. He’s soft in all the best places, and strong in all the rest. That man over there? That’s not the same man I’ve gotten to know. He’s putting on a well-rehearsed show for everyone because, well, he’s got his reasons.”

“I need to find balance, because he consumes me. I feel borderline insane when I’m not with him.”

“I don’t know.” Because, truthfully? I don’t have a fucking clue. My eyes flick back to the subject of my thoughts just as he runs his thick fingers through his silky blond hair. It’s a special kind of torture to be in the same room as Silas and not be able to touch him.

never understood the desire to dim one’s senses and inhibitions until right now. Silas throws his head back in a laugh at something someone in the group said, and jealousy starts to burn like a wildfire inside me. I’m two seconds from storming over to him and plunging my tongue down his throat for all to see.

I’ve never been someone’s secret before, and if I didn’t feel so strongly about him, I’d walk away. I can have empathy for his situation without being willing to put myself through the torture. But with Silas, I’d walk through the fiery pits of hell if he were waiting for me on the other side.

While I thought all these signs were symbols of impending doom, everything has brought me to Silas, which has been anything but. Unless we’re destined to end up like Romeo and Juliet, in that case, the harbingers are foreshadowing our untimely deaths.

“Thanks.” “I’ve got you.” Silas beams a sad smile at me, one of longing and happiness. A mix that nearly breaks my heart. “How about some water and a shower?”

He’s so goddamn tempting.

The hot water pelts our skin, and I watch as Silas closes his eyes, letting the spray pass over his head and face, rivulets of water cascading down his beautiful features. And hell, if he isn’t the most beautiful and equally maddening creature I’ve ever met. But he’s mine, and I take him as he is.

I take my time washing him, running my fingers through his thick, luscious hair, rubbing soap over every inch of his toned body. Silas moans softly at my touch, and I wonder if he’s ever had anyone take care of him before.

“It was a good comeback. You all deserved the win.” “My head wasn’t in it, and then I saw you in the stands and I suddenly had a reason for winning.”

Every ounce of jealousy, every bit of hurt, anger, and any other bullshit I was feeling the last few hours completely evaporates at those words. We fall asleep holding on to each other, and I hope like hell there’s a million more nights like this ahead of us.

“I’m in love with Asher Ambrose,” I confess on an exasperated breath as I collapse into the plush velvet chair in front of his desk, reveling in how those words sounded on my lips.

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. It’s everything else that is hard, even if I have brought most of it down on myself. We all make choices and have to live with them.

I thought the life my dad always wanted for me was one of wealth, prestige, popularity, and the comforts he’s earned for himself. Hearing that he just wants me to be happy? I needed to hear those words more than I realized before I walked into his office.

The next day, I take my seat in Professor Thorne’s Fear and Ink course and wait for Asher. I got here early so I can see him as he walks in.

I look up just in time to see Asher enter the lecture hall, his lips turning up into a smile as he spots me, racing to take a seat next to me, looking at me like I hung the fucking moon. My heart trips over itself as I return his smile. Everything around us seems to fade away.

Asher barks out a laugh that is so at odds with his typical behavior, it pulls a laugh out of me.

tips to get inside, even if we beg.” “I’m good at begging,” I say under my breath, my hand cupped over my lips. I watch Asher’s side profile as he bites the inside of his cheek, holding back a smirk.

“So jumpy,” he says as he drops his bag to the floor, leaning down and grabbing my face with his hands. Asher doesn’t hesitate, his mouth meeting mine in a hard, bruising kiss.

God, he tastes so good. I never would have thought in my wildest dreams that it could feel this good between two people.