Never

The Answer

Tension. That's the word for the day, for every day since Jesse and Adam had their talk.

From the moment I woke up until I went to bed in the evening, there was this thick, impenetrable strain in the air. Our house had become a tinderbox, and I knew the wrong words out of the right mouth would set off an explosion.

At dinner I could see it. The determined, stubborn set to Jesse's mouth, Adam's tensed jaw and stiff shoulders. Father and daughter sorely needed to talk, but neither seemed able or willing to take the first step. It was getting stifling to me, but I didn't want to get between them.

Soon, it was too much for even me. The silence, the veiled hostility and anger...it was all I could do not to scream. I finished my food fast enough to impress any of our pack and excused myself. I could feel my mate's eyes on my back as I exited.

I didn't care. He was acting ridiculous. So was Jesse. I would leave them to it. Placing my dirty dishes in the dishwasher, I went upstairs. I needed a hot shower. It would relax my body and hopefully soothe my mind.

Our bedroom was silent as I disrobed, and I didn't hear anything from downstairs. Even left alone, the two wouldn't talk to each other. I shook my head. Whatever.

I loved the design of the shower. The water hit me perfectly, at just the right temperature and pressure. Soon, I was smiling softly to myself as I felt my muscles relax and grow pliant under the hot spray. It was wonderful.

Which was why I started when I felt my husband's hands brush my shoulders. My heart felt like it had stopped for a moment. Adam slid them down my arms until they rested on my hips.

I tried to turn around to face him, but his grip tightened, and he stepped forward, molding my back against his naked body, showing me how aroused he was. One of his hands flattened against my belly as the other came up to cup my breast. He placed an open-mouthed kiss along the side of my neck. I moaned softly.

He didn't talk. He just caressed, kissed, and loved me, right there in the large shower. There was so much weighing on him, on this family, but he needed me. I could feel it in the grip of his hands, in the intensity of his kisses, the deep thrusts of his hips. I kept him stable, grounded.

When we finished, when my legs were steady enough for me to stand again, we washed, still saying nothing. Where his hands had been near bruising moments ago, now they were tender, patient, careful.

He treated me like porcelain, like I needed to be handled with care. We both knew what he was capable of, what those hands could do. Perhaps he needed to do this to ensure himself that, despite the number of times his hands had been covered in blood, he could be gentle and loving. That he wasn't a monster.

Maybe Jesse wouldn't be one either.

We left the shower, and Adam ushered me into bed when I would have dressed in my usual tee and underwear. Sliding in, he spooned against me, skin to skin. Of course, it wasn't long before he was making love to me again, my cries soft against his ears.

So much for the shower.

After, we lay quietly, my ear against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. I could tell that he wanted to say something, but I waited. I knew he would do so when he was ready. I didn't have to wait too long.

"I don't know what to do, Mercy," he said miserably. "I don't want Jesse to hate me, but I don't want to face the possibility of losing her either." His hand squeezed my shoulder, and I felt his lips against my hair. "I can't lose her."