Chapter Ten
THORN
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MY brOTHER’S BETRAYAL seethes inside of me. It would be easy if that were all I felt—anger. Instead, I’m torn between fury and relief. A relief that nearly takes me to my knees. But I know better than to fall with an audience. I need to get the hell out of this lodge.
I don’t wait for the elevator. Instead, I take the main stairs two at a time, practically sliding down them. My hands grip the railing so hard I know my palms will be splintered as all hell, but I don’t give a shit.
I burst out the door. The cool December wind hits me, and a chill brushes my skin.
I need it.
I need the scent of the pine-filled air and the rustle of tree branches. Each breath I inhale is infused with an earthy aroma. Nature is my refuge—it always has been. And I need it now more than ever, as my heart races while that fury and relief battle a tug-a-war inside me.
My legs don’t stop moving until Flora’s voice breaks through the turmoil of my thoughts.
“Thorn? Can we talk?” She’s breathless and far enough behind me that I know if I keep going, I can climb into my truck and get the fuck out of here without talking to her.
My feet slow.
Damn them.
The parking lot is so close, just past the small wooden gazebos nestled in the shadows along the grassy strip dividing the parking and the west side of the lodge.
“Thorn, please.”
She’s closer.
So close.
My boots crunch against the dormant winter grass. I tell myself to keep going, to pick up my pace. She didn’t trust me then. What the hell is the point of talking now?
I curse myself as I slowly turn around.
The lanterns lining the path cast a soft glow over her features, which shift when she sees me face her. Her sprint dwindles to a walk, and her eyes’ urgency softens with a flicker of uncertainty. She leaves a chunk of space between us that swirls with confusion.
“Now you want to talk?” My teeth grind. “You’re over ten years too late.”
“That’s not fair,” she shoots back.
“What’s not fair was you not talking to me in the first place.”
“I was young and confused and heartbroken.”
“You didn’t trust me!” As I raise my voice, a couple emerges from the parking lot behind me. As they pass, we step aside, and I watch the panic of having this conversation in the open translate all over her face.
Good. Seeing her flush gives me a spike of victory.
Then guilt.
Damn my morals.
“Come here.” I grab her elbow and guide her to the closest gazebo.
I ignore the sign that says restricted after dusk, and with a rough tug, the door creaks open. We’re met by the thick scent of cedar and pitch blackness, with tiny silvers of moonlight breaking through the high grass hiding the open windows.
“Careful.” I can just make out the shape of a picnic table, which barely houses. The wooden table’s edge rubs the side of our bodies.
We’re close now, leaving hardly a space between us.
“No, I didn’t trust you.” Her fierce tone is faded, revealing a hint of vulnerability. “I don’t trust anyone.”
“I trusted you,” I grind out. “I went against everything I was raised to believe and put all my trust in you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be!” I snap before the sound of her defeated tone registers.
Damn it.
“I didn’t walk away easy.” Her words hold an edge of crispness now. “Do you think when I saw you with that girl and assumed the worst, my love just vanished? It didn’t. My heart broke in that moment. Broke in a way I didn’t even know how to deal with.” I say nothing when she pauses. “I was young, and none of my family members could ever understand what I was experiencing. I had no one to talk to because the person I wanted to talk to had caused the immense pain inside me. I thought I might die. It hurt so much, and now I’m playing back every moment of that pain, realizing I caused it. My distrust broke us—I broke us.”
Her words crush me. My anger gives way to something softer, making me ache for the past we can never reclaim.
“It’s not only on you.” My hoarse and raw voice is barely a whisper. “I don’t know what to think.”
I close my eyes, feeling the pulse of desire stealing the anger and confusion.
“Let’s not think.” The sultry dare of her tone drives my eyes open, and I see the fire kindling below her surface. “Let’s just feel.”
Those words sparks something primal in me, and everything I’m feeling morphs into a heated hunger for her.
I close the distance between us in one solid step. My hands cup her face, and my fingertips tangle in her hair. Our lips collide, desperate and needy, as if trying to consume each other whole. A wild blend of emotions pours into that kiss, banishing any remaining doubt. All that matters is the sweet and intoxicating taste of her.
Her hands twist in my hair, pulling me closer as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear. Hell, I’m terrified she’ll disappear.
The kiss deepens. Our mouths move together fiercely. I explore every inch of her, savoring the way she responds to me with soft moans. Lord, I missed this woman’s soft moans.
“God, you taste amazing,” I breathe between fervent kisses.
I pull back just enough to gaze into her eyes.
She smirks at me. “You don’t taste too bad yourself.”
“I’ve never wanted you as much as I do right now.” The growl is low in my throat.
“Show me how much you want me.”
I suck a breath through my teeth. “Are you sure?”
Her fingers slide up my bare arms, causing a warm tingle. “Just feel.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
She doesn’t have to tell me again. Our mouths crash together. Hot and heavy. I can’t get enough of the taste of her. So many nights I’ve spent longing to kiss her, to taste her—to touch her.
My hands grip her waist, lifting her effortlessly. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling my mouth harder against hers. Our teeth click. Our mouths clash.
I perch her on the end of the picnic table and pull the knitted dress up to her waist. Her legs spread open, inviting me in.
Damn, I fit just perfectly like I was meant to always be right here with her.
I pull away to look at her, my fingers grasping the sides of her face. “You’re not planning on tying me and leaving me again, are you?” I grin as I run my thumb over her lower lip, but a part of me worries.
She laughs, takes the Stetson off my head, and plunks it on hers. It’s too big now, but it’s adorable.
She tips it back. “I’m not going anywhere, cowboy.”
That’s all the confirmation I need. My fingers trail down her sides and dig firmly into her ass cheeks. Each time our skin meets, my arousal grows. I pull her against my hard cock, straining the material of my jeans.
“Good, ‘cause this is what you do to me,” I rasp against her mouth.
Her legs tighten around my waist, drawing me closer. She begins to grind slowly, teasingly.
Shit.
If she keeps it up, I’m going to explode before my damn pants are off.
My lips roughly move down her throat. The urgency of my desire resonates with every touch. Her breath hitches when my hands find her breasts over the thick, chunky knit of her dress. I cup them with a firm grasp that makes her arch against me. But still, there’s too much material.
I slide the cowl neck down her shoulders and under her breasts, exposing her soft skin to the cool air.
She leans back, pressing her palms on the picnic table’s surface. My eyes adjust to the darkness. A sliver of light highlights the outline of her bra, barely concealing the beauty beneath. It fuels my hunger.
I grip her throat and bring her mouth to mine. “You’re gorgeous,” I say before claiming her lips as my own. I plunge my tongue deep inside, exploring every inch—all mine.
Her warm fingers slide under the hem of my shirt. I inhale sharply as sensations awaken that I forgot I could feel.
“You like that?” Her soft giggle is music to my ears.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Then take off your shirt.”
I rip it away, and she leans back to stare at me.
“You’re beautiful.” I see the heated desire in her eyes.
She splays both her hands on my chest, eliciting a soft sigh from me. Her warm fingertips glide down my chest to my abdomen, making me pulse with desire. When her tongue flicks out and licks a slow, deliberate line, I close my eyes, surrendering to the bliss. Each kiss sends ripples of pleasure through me as she maps out territory that will only ever belong to her. When she reaches my throat, I can’t handle it any longer.
I grip her jaw and bring her face to mine. “If you keep this up, I’m going to come before I’m inside you.”
Her small inhale excites me. The way she bites her lower lip and the pleading in her eyes.
“And I haven’t even tasted you yet,” I bark.
I unhook the back of her bra and shove the straps down her arms, freeing her from them and her sleeves. I don’t take my time tracing my fingers around her soft curves. I cup her breasts and squeeze sensuous moans out of her. My cock throbs with each tiny sound that passes her lips. I roll my fingers across her nipples and pinch, earning breathless whispers and releasing a fire within me. I want her ready when it’s time to ride the crest with me. I want her sitting at the edge, waiting for me.
My lips follow, taking one of her breasts into my mouth. The taste of her skin is intoxicating, and I can’t get enough. I lick, flick, and tease the hard bud while my fingers brush the curve of her thigh. I slide my hand under her panties. She whimpers when my fingers cover the swell of her arousal. The sound sends a thrill through me, but not nearly as much as feeling her softness pulsing under my finger and knowing she’s already on the brink. I explore the delicate folds of her, teasing the sensitive spots that draw out her pleasure. Her hips shift, pressing closer to me, urging me on. Her breaths come in quick, desperate bursts.
“Thorn, yes. Please...”
Knowing I hold the power to take her to the edge and beyond makes my dick rock fucking hard. I press my fingertips into her warmth, feeling the heat radiate from her core, and know she’s close.
“Wait.” She pushes me back, and for a split second, I panic, thinking regret has caught up with her.
But I see my hunger and lust mirrored in her eyes.
“I want you—” Her breathless, urgent words make me harder by the second. “I want you inside me.”