Chapter 43
brEAKING: SOME CONFESSIONS REQUIRE BLOOD LOSS TO UNLOCK. #PAINFULTRUTHS
DAKOTA
“Absolutely not.” I gripped the doorframe as Axel bent toward me, his arms already positioning to lift me. “I can walk.”
“Blake said better safe than sorry. You might get dizzy and fall.”
I shot a desperate look at my supposed friends, searching for backup. Jace suddenly found the ceiling fascinating. Tessa examined her manicure like it held the secrets of the universe. Even Scarlett was avoiding eye contact.
Traitors. All of them.
If Blake hadn’t rushed ahead to the ER to prep supplies, maybe I could’ve reasoned with him about his ridiculous no-walking decree. But, no, Dr. Blake had spoken, and apparently, everyone had decided to pledge allegiance to his medical tyranny.
Before I could voice any of this, Axel swept me up against his chest like I weighed nothing. “Arms around my neck, Sunshine.”
“This is ridiculous.” But my traitorous body betrayed me, arms looping around him as he carried me toward the elevator. His heart hammered against my ribs. Or maybe that was mine. “Put me down.”
“No.”
“Axel.”
“Dakota.” He hit the elevator button with his elbow, still holding me close. Too close. I could smell his cologne, mixed with copper from the blood on his suit. My blood. “Stop fighting me on this.”
My mind scrambled to process what was happening. I should still be angry at Axel Pierce. He’d omission-lied to me about his fiancée after all, but in this moment, everything else felt suspended around us like unimportant dust particles.
The only thing that mattered was the way he was looking at me. The way concern leaked from his words and his gaze.
Because I could feel it: the energy between us had shifted. Something raw and primal was breaking free from whatever dam we’d built to hold it back.
The elevator ride down felt like an eternity. Neither of us spoke, but I could feel the tension radiating from his body, the careful way he held me, like I might shatter.
When we reached Jace’s waiting car, he maneuvered the door open and settled into the back seat, still cradling me. “Driver, Mercy Harbor. Emergency entrance.”
“I can sit normally,” I said, trying to shift away. The leather seat creaked beneath us, and a sharp throb pulsed behind my temple, where the blood had started to dry, sticky and metallic against my skin.
His arms tightened. “Please.” The word came out broken, his breath warm against my ear. “Just … let me.”
I stopped struggling. He guided my head to rest against his shoulder, the expensive fabric of his suit soft against my cheek.
One hand stroked through my hair while the other held me secure against him, his fingers tightening slightly where they pressed against my ribs.
The city lights blurred past the windows, neon blues and golds streaking like watercolors on the rain-slicked glass.
I could smell his cologne mixing with the copper tang of blood, feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath my ear.
“This is my fault.” His voice was rough as sandpaper, vibrating through his chest and into mine.
“What? No, Mathew’s the one who—”
“If I’d told you about the engagement from the start, you never would have stormed out.
You never would have gotten hurt.” His hand stilled in my hair.
“Seeing you bloody. Hurt.” He shook his head, and his voice dropped to an octave I’d never heard before.
One that ran through rivers of pain. “It cracked something in me, Sunshine.”
I pulled back enough to look at his face. The raw anguish there stole my breath. “Axel …”
“You’re all that matters.” His thumb traced my jawline, leaving fire in its wake. “Not the business. Not the deal. Not any of it. Just you.”
The confession hung between us, heavy and charged. My heart hammered so hard, I was sure he could feel it, and his eyes—those stormy eyes that had tormented me for years—darkened to midnight as they searched mine. The air grew thick, buzzing with something inevitable and terrifying and perfect.
His thumb paused at the corner of my mouth, and I couldn’t help the way my lips parted slightly, my breath catching. The muscle in his neck flexed like he was fighting some internal war.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, voice strained.
“Like what?” The words came out breathy, barely there.
“Like you want me to …” He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “God, Sunshine. You have no idea what you do to me.”
Every inch of my skin felt hypersensitive, alive.
Years of heated arguments, of barely controlled chemistry, of denying what simmered beneath every barbed word …
it all compressed into this single moment.
The city lights painted shadowed colors across his face, and I watched, mesmerized, as he slowly, torturously leaned closer.
His breath ghosted across my lips. Just a whisper of contact. Not enough. Never enough.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, but his hand was already sliding to cup the back of my neck, his fingers threading through my hair with devastating gentleness, careful to avoid the sore spot.
“No.” The word was barely a breath, but it shattered whatever control he’d been clinging to.
For one suspended heartbeat, we hovered there, with his mouth a hairbreadth from mine, close enough that I could taste the promise of him. My whole body trembled with want.
“Sunshine,” he breathed, reverent and destroyed.
And then his mouth was on mine.
The first contact was soft. Achingly, unexpectedly soft, like he was afraid I might break. But then I made a small, desperate sound against his lips, and something in him snapped. The kiss turned molten, years of pent-up longing pouring out in a rush that left me dizzy.
This wasn’t like our fake kisses or the one meant to make Mathew jealous. No audience. No performance. Just raw, desperate hunger that had been building between us since the day we met.
He kissed me like he was trying to apologize and claim me, all at once, like I was precious and he was starving.
His tongue swept against mine, and my whole body ignited, every nerve ending sparking to life.
I gasped into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. So much more.
He made a sound—half groan, half growl—that I felt everywhere, the vibration of it shooting straight through me like lightning. His hand ghosted down my jaw, and I went limp against him, surrendering to the storm we’d created.
We kissed like we fought, with everything we had, holding nothing back. Every sweep of his tongue was a challenge I met eagerly. Every nip of teeth was a dare. When I sucked lightly on his bottom lip, his whole body shuddered, and the power of it, of affecting him like this, was heavier than wine.
We couldn’t stop. Couldn’t pull away. Every time one of us tried to break for air, the other would chase their mouth back, desperate for another taste, another second of this perfect madness.
The car took a sharp turn, and we broke apart, breathing hard.
“Why?” I whispered, my lips still tingling. “Why did you keep it from me? Who were you engaged to?”
His whole body tensed. “Dakota, I …”
The car stopped. Harsh hospital lights flooded through the windows.
“We’re here, Mr. Pierce,” the driver announced.
Axel’s jaw clenched, that vulnerable moment evaporating like smoke. He shifted me carefully as the door opened, people already approaching with a wheelchair.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, gentle but final. “Later, Sunshine. Let’s get you treated. Make sure you’re really okay.”
But as they wheeled me through those automatic doors, his expression already shuttering closed, I wondered if later would ever come. Or if I’d just lost my only chance to understand the mystery that was Axel Pierce.
The man who’d just kissed me like I was the only thing keeping him alive.