Chapter Thirty-One
B irch stopped resisting the deputies the moment the heavy door slammed behind them and he saw Jocelyn standing at the end of the hall. His Serpent’s Tongue shirt hung off her slim form and Torres slapped him on the back with a good show. He swallowed, breaking into a jog until Jocelyn was wrapped in his arms.
“You’re late,” she murmured into his skin, her fingers stroking the nape of his neck.
He inhaled the scent of her hair and knew in an instant that she’d spent the night in his home where she belonged. “Since we’re back to playing the obvious game, you look sexy as fuck in my shirt.” Someone cleared their throat loudly and he looked over her head to see Fogerty. “We good?”
“For now,” the sheriff grunted. “Go. And take that little spitfire with you.”
Extricating himself from her hold, he did his best to appear as cool and collected as Jocelyn was while they walked through the double glass doors.
She led him to her car and rifled through her purse, pushing his phone, wallet, and keys into his hand before hopping in the driver side and starting the engine. He’d barely closed his door when she pulled out of the station’s parking lot, her foot heavy on the gas.
“I know it was only twenty-four hours, but damn if I never want to see the inside of a cell ever again,” he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “What a mindfuck that was.”
The car swayed as they made a right and he opened one eye to see her eyes narrow while she maintained her silence.
“Hey,” he said, straightening up and trailing his thumb along her neck. “Why don’t you go for a run while I shower. I’ll order in and by the time you get back, we’ll be set.”
Coming to a rolling stop, she looked both ways and continued through the intersection, speeding up toward his street. “I’m not running.”
There was a coolness to her voice, and it threw him for a loop as he studied her, wondering what had gone down while he was in the holding cell.
He was still monitoring her locked down expression when she pulled up in front of his house, leaving room for Grey to squeeze past into the driveway when he returned home. Her movements were methodical as she undid her seat belt, opened her door, slung her laptop bag and purse over her shoulder, and joined him on the silent walk to his door.
She didn’t reach for him, didn’t speak.
He unlocked the door and flicked on the lights as he toed his shoes off and paused to watch while she did the same, placing hers beside his.
“I’m going to jump in the shower,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets as an unfamiliar awkwardness settled over them. “Do you want to order delivery or…?”
He let the question hang in the air, not wanting to push her into anything she might be second-guessing.
Unless it was him.
The thought burrowed into his head, digging its claws in.
“Maybe,” she replied with a noncommittal shrug. “Any preferences if I do?”
“All I want is something edible. I don’t even care if it’s good.” Backing toward the stairs, he gave her a smile he hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt. “I won’t be long.”
Trudging to the top floor of the house, he listened to her moving around in the kitchen until he closed the door and turned on the shower.
The hot spray washed the stale mildew stench of the cell off his skin. The room filled with steam as he scrubbed away the past twenty-four hours. He was rinsing his hair when a waft of cool air traveled over him and the sound of the door being eased shut followed shortly after.
He held his breath, his eyes locked on the turquoise shower curtain as delicate fingers grasped it and slid it open a fraction. One long leg unfolded over the edge of the tub and his body reacted instantly, his mind catching up only once Jocelyn was standing naked in front of him, her stance almost shy.
“Holy fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He reached up to tilt the shower head so she wouldn’t freeze. “Gorgeous. Like, fuck. Gorgeous.” Exhaling loudly, he raked his gaze over her body, coming to rest on her gaze which was locked on the tub floor. “Hey,” he whispered, closing the distance between them. “Look at me.”
Her silent treatment on the drive over was a tough pill to swallow. But the tears in her eyes when she obeyed was far worse.
Panic slammed through him, all lust and desire shoved aside as he scanned her for injury, pain, anything to explain the streaks on her cheeks. “Jocelyn, baby,” he pleaded, taking her hands and studying the sorrow in her eyes. “What—”
“I shouldn’t have let them lock you up,” she sobbed, her shoulders heaving as she buried her head against his chest. “I should have fought it. Made Puller fight it. I promised you it would be okay, and it wasn’t. I don’t care what kind of message they wanted to give Ryder, you shouldn’t have had to go.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he smoothed her damp hair, shushing her helplessly while she cried. “It’s fine. We all knew it was for show. And it worked, right? He has no idea I’m out, which means Trevor has no idea, which means the cops have enough time to do their thing. No harm, no foul.” When his words were met with a heartbreaking shudder under his hands, he tightened his hold on her. “It’s okay. I’m okay, you’re okay. Shhhhhhh.”
He’d dealt with his fair share of crying over the years. When his brothers were really little, he was the one bandaging their cuts and treating their scrapes. When Winter was put away, Grey cried every night for a month. When it was his turn to be locked up, River’s broad shoulders crumpled under the strain of knowing he was next in line to keep Grey and himself above water.
Growing up around his brothers, seeing them cry was something he knew happened in families and he almost reveled in the normalcy of it, as fucked up as their family was. It sucked, he dealt with it, and they moved on.
But this was different.
He hadn’t realized until that moment how much weight he’d put on her to be strong, to keep him solid. And not once had she cracked. There hadn’t been a single moment when she faltered, when she gave him a reason to doubt everything would be okay.
Her sobs turned to gulps for air and he kissed her hair. “You’re amazing. I’m the luckiest guy in Nebraska to have a woman like you holding me up.”
She let out a shaky laugh and burrowed in closer, her breathing still unsteady. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to have a total meltdown at the station or in front of Grey if he was here. Then I remembered our shower deal and figured it would distract me.” Sniffing, she tilted her head to look up at him. “But then I saw you and it hit me you’re safe and you’re here and it just all came out.”
Ducking his head down to kiss her cheeks, he cupped her chin. “I’m safe, I’m here, I love you, and you can cry on me all you want whenever you need to.”
He brushed his lips over hers, focusing on how grateful he was for her and not on the fleeting thought that her tears were another strike against Ryder Drayson. Because that asshole wasn’t going to dictate another moment of his—or her—existence.
The water began to run cool and she shivered. “I think the whole shower sex plan will need a raincheck.”
Turning the faucet off, he pushed the curtain open and grabbed a fresh towel, wrapping it around her. “Why don’t we eat, put on a movie, and forget about plans until tomorrow?”
*
Jocelyn slipped out of the bathroom and back into Birch’s bed, curling up beside him while the rising sun peeked through his curtains.
He lay sprawled on his back, out cold with one arm stretched out beneath her pillow and the other hidden by the blanket where she knew his hand was resting comfortably on his manhood.
They made it through a lukewarm dinner and half a horror film before both of them were nodding off on the sofa, nudged off to bed by the youngest Baker when he emerged from his room to grab a midnight snack.
There hadn’t been a moment of hanky-panky, both of them content to simply snuggle up together until they crashed.
But now she was awake.
And judging by the glimpse she got when Birch rolled onto his back, he was too.
Or at least part of him was.
Slipping down the mattress, she eased herself between his legs, removed his own hand, and palmed him through his boxers. His hips shifted and she tugged the boxers down far enough for his hardened length to spring free, his heat warming her cold hands while she skimmed them lightly along his shaft. Wiggling a little further down, she lowered her head and circled the velvety tip with her tongue, smiling when she heard a sleepy grunt. Deciding she wanted him waking to more than a tease, she took him between her lips and slid her mouth as far down his length as she could.
It took exactly three trips up and down his cock with her mouth before he woke with a shudder and a groan.
“Whoa, fuck,” he gasped when she finally managed to take him all in. “I…Oh, wow. Wow. Woah.” His hand tangled in her hair but he didn’t push her, his hips stilling to allow her to set the pace. “This is—” He let out a strangled sound as she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked. “Oh god, yeah.”
The sheet beneath her jostled as he clutched at it, his eyes locked on her mouth while she worked him.
She added the swirl of her tongue to her moves and he began panting heavy, cursing and begging her in growled bursts.
“Baby…Jocelyn…Baby…fuck…I…” The hand in her hair grasped a little tighter, tugging gently. “Baby, I’m gonna…holy FUCK!”
With his attempt to warn her, she splayed one hand across his chest and dug her nails in, dragging them down his skin as he erupted down her throat. She held him there until he sunk into the mattress, still alternating between swearing and singing her praises to the gods.
Crawling up the length of his body, she braced her hands on either side of his head and smiled down at him. “Good morning. You’re babbling.”
With a strained laugh, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Good morning. You’re incredible.” He swallowed hard a few times, blinking over and over. “I think you actually blew my brains out.”
Flopping down beside him, she stretched out with a satisfied smile. “Mission accomplished.”
He lay beside her with a goofy grin on his face for a few minutes before sitting up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and grabbing the phone he hadn’t glanced at since they left the station. “Give me a few minutes and do not leave this bed.”
She smirked as he staggered a little on his way out of the room, giggling when she heard a thump followed by an ‘I’m good.’
They had so much to do today.
But when he returned, the goofy look on his face was replaced by a predatory one. Her thong picture lit up his phone and she realized they were definitely not going to be getting an early start to the day.
“Show me,” he growled, bouncing his cell across the bed.
She inhaled sharply and clutched the comforter a little tighter, watching him as he got on his knees at the foot of the bed, grabbed her ankles, and yanked her to him, almost purring in appreciation when he saw the thong.
By the time his tongue was sliding through her folds, her fingers grasping at the mattress and her heels on his shoulders, she decided whatever plans they needed to make could wait.