Chapter Twenty-Eight
J ocelyn heard the sharp inhale of his breath moments before Birch’s lips were on hers, his hands tangling in her hair as he pleaded through panting breaths against her mouth.
“I’m sorry. I love you. I do. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I do. I love you.”
He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes squeezed shut while he continued to chant the words over and over, his broad shoulders heaving under her fingers. Sliding one hand along the back of his head and into his hair, she held him tight, her heart aching every time he took a gulping breath.
The wall of solid muscle and ink in front of her dropped his head into the crook of her neck, repeating his mantra while his arms wrapped around her and his lips found hers again.
“I’m sorry. I do. I love you,” he gasped, as though the admission was piercing him anew every time. He was clawing at the straps of her tank top with one hand, the other clutching her hip. “I tried not to but I do.”
His movements were frenzied, as though he couldn’t choose between stripping her, touching her, or kissing her. One tug of the neckline of his shirt and he yanked it over his head before shoving her shorts off her hips and slipping his hand under the thin lace of her thong.
He pushed two fingers inside her as he nipped at her lobe, his chants becoming whispers in her ear. “I want you. I want everything you give me. Everything you make me feel. It fucking hurts.”
Hitching her leg up on his hip, he lowered her to the ground, his fingers working her as hard and fast as her heart was pounding in her chest. Her nails dug into his bicep, her back arching when his mouth moved to her breast and the gentle teasing of his tongue clashed with his rough unzipping of his jeans. He withdrew his fingers from her, the heat of his cock finding her entrance almost immediately before he pushed her hair from her eyes and stilled.
“Tell me it’s okay,” he whispered. “That it’ll be okay.”
Running her thumb along his bottom lip, she nodded. “I promise. And if it isn’t, we’ll figure it out until it is.”
With a shuddered breath, he pushed inside her and lowered his head, his lips brushing against hers. “I love you. I’m sorry.”
“I love you. And I’m not.”
There was a stone pressing against her spine, but the discomfort was a small price to pay while he made love to her on the hill. The demons tearing through him earlier settled as he rocked deep inside her, one hand cupping her face while the other sought out her fingers and linked with them. He was quiet save for his ragged breathing as he rested his forehead on hers.
The buildup to her release was slow, the first flutterings catching her off guard as she moaned his name and gripped his hand. It began to swell and she whimpered, her thighs tightening around his hips. When he didn’t respond to her body’s cues as he always had, she knew he was keeping her on the edge on purpose, holding her there.
“Please, Birch,” she panted, scratching her nails across his back. “Please.”
“Anything,” he rasped with a shaky breath, shifting his position between her legs. “I’ll do anything you want. Always.”
The hand on her cheek dug into the earth for leverage as he slammed into her, pushing her over the peak and allowing her to drag him with her.
*
Birch bent down to scoop his truck keys off the ground before he jogged back to the top of Tower Hill where the lights of Grey’s car were cutting a blinding light through the darkness.
Jocelyn was already riding shotgun, so he climbed into the cramped back seat and leaned forward enough to wrap his arm around her chest, grateful his brother was wise enough to hold his tongue on the short drive home.
They pulled into the driveway and Grey got out, calling out a ‘no problem’ when Jocelyn thanked him for picking them up. He bounded up the porch and through the door, leaving them alone.
“Now what?” he asked, reaching over to ease a tuft of grass from her hair.
She looked tired and messy and dirty. “Now we go inside.”
Simple enough.
As he locked the door behind them, her arms snaked around his ribs, her head resting on his back. “Now I’m going to shower. Alone. Then you will. Alone.”
Wrinkling his nose, he lifted one of her hands to his lips. “And then?”
“Then we figure this out, and you’re going to let me make it okay.”
He followed her upstairs, watching as she went through his dresser to pull out shorts and a shirt without hesitation. The shower turned on within seconds of her disappearing into the bathroom.
Grey’s door opened a crack. “Hey. You good?”
Slumping onto the corner of his bed, he ran his hands through his hair, his nose wrinkling when he pulled a leaf out. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll fill you in later.” Glancing at his alarm clock, he frowned. “You have an online tutorial at nine a.m. Get to bed.”
The concern in his brother’s eyes didn’t fade as it usually did when Birch went into parental mode. “If you say so. Night.”
“Night,” he grumbled, flopping back and tossing an arm over his eyes until it was his turn to shower. Jocelyn didn’t even bother turning off the water as she walked into his room and shooed him out.
By the time he returned, she was asleep on his bed.
Under his blanket.
Wearing his clothes.
Crawling in beside her, he pulled her in tight to him and let her warmth soothe him to sleep.