31. Briggs
Chapter 31
Briggs
“What a woman tells her lover in desire should be written out on air it’s just taking a little longer than usual because of the ice.”
I figured she’d jump right into asking where, but I was kind of taken aback when she said, “I love this song.” She then proceeded to turn the volume up, and I almost swerved on the road the second she started singing along.
Because, holy shit, Rose didn’t just learn to talk all over again after losing her voice. Now, I understood why her grandparents chose Nashville as a vacation spot to get her to sing. They knew she could. Rose Fields had the sweetest, most haunting voice I’d ever heard.
I gripped the steering wheel, wracking my brain for any indication of her hidden talent. But found none. Rose hadn’t been in choir, didn’t sing in some high school or garage band, and never took lessons that were mentioned in her file. But, then again, most things were absent from that useless thing.
I cleared my throat as the song ended. “I didn’t know you could sing.”
She fell silent, the ends of her hair moving in my periphery as she toyed with it. “I keep it to myself.”
“Why?”
“I…I don’t know. Au-I mean, that friend I had at one point always played his guitar and sang, and I didn’t want to overstep, so I just…didn’t sing unless I was alone.”
I gripped the wheel harder, then reached over and took her hand in mine. “Did he know you could sing?”
“Yes,” she replied instantly, and my fingers curled over her hand a little tighter. “He said I wasn’t that good, though.”
Anger flooded through me, yet the smooth glide of my thumb over her hand reassured her I was fine. Or, tried to. I could feel her looking at me, analyzing my every move, and I couldn’t help the tick of my jaw as I thought about beating the shit out of him all over again. The next time, he’d be dead. I wouldn’t leave him breathing.
“He’s wrong,” I finally got out. “Your voice is as beautiful as you are, and I don’t say that lightly.”
“You’re not just saying that because you uh…like me?” She laughed, her other hand joining mine, playing with my fingers like it was her hair. The touch of those delicate fingers on mine sent shivers down my spine.
I straightened in my seat. “Like is putting it rather loosely, don’t you think? ”
Rose let the silence stretch for a few minutes, focusing on the words I let hang between us as her eyes fixed on the rough edges of my knuckles and the white scars on my hands that resembled mere paper cuts now. It was intriguing that Rose was so quick to speak her mind, yet when you threw things like love or anything sexual into the mix, she tensed up. We were working our way through the second, but I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to hear her tell me she loved me. I wasn’t sure she was there yet or if she ever could love someone as monstrous as myself. I didn’t deserve it. That much I knew.
“When did you get the tattoo?”
“Which one?”
Her hand released mine and returned flat on my chest as she twisted in her seat. “This one, Briggs. When?”
“Last night,” I answered truthfully. “I’m actually glad you got to see it before it starts to peel. They aren’t that pretty when that happens.”
She shut down the way I tried to make light of the artwork, showing her how I felt about her without needing to say it at all. “What made you do that?”
I turned my attention to the road for a moment, turning off the stretch of the two-lane highway we’d been on for a while now. Rose resettled her hand over mine as it rested on the shifter, waiting for me to answer.
“I wanted to keep you with me forever, even if you were just going to be a memory. ”
“Pull over.” I slowed at a stop sign and looked over at her, unsure if I heard her right. She snapped her fingers at my stunned, confused face. “Hello? I said pull over. ”
I sighed, the car unmoving at the dead intersection. “Rose, you can’t jump out here. At least let me get you somewhere safe, and I’ll drive you back home in the morning. I didn’t mean to upset—” All words flew from my brain as Rose began removing her borrowed shirt, her light pink nipples peaked and ready.
“I don’t want to leave the car, Briggs. I said pull over .” Her borrowed pants went next until she was completely naked in the passenger seat.
We were maybe two minutes from where I was taking her, but I did as she said and pulled off to the side of the road.
“Pants,” Rose ordered as I parked the car against the tree line. “Pull them down.”
I chuckled. “You’re getting bossy again. I like it.”
“I thought you said like was putting it loosely.”
I cocked a brow at her as I pulled my pants down, my cock already hard for her. I started stroking, rubbing my thumb along my tip. I let my head fall back in the seat as I groaned deeply at the sight of her—her perfectly taut nipples, the swell of her breasts as they hung above her petite body, a slight curve right at her hips.
“You’re so fucking stunning, Rose. Now get over here and boss me around some more.”
Her thick lashes fluttered, only the low lights from the dash illuminating pieces of her I didn’t need to see to admire her beauty. I’d memorized her entirely, saw her in my dreams that used to be covered in nothing but blood and death, and watched her for more years than she was aware of. She shifted from her seat to mine, settling her wet, gorgeous cunt right above me as she bit down on her lip.
My cock jerked up against her, unable to control myself as I took that lip between my teeth.
“Briggs,” she whispered as I released her lip, my cock nudging at her entrance as her hips swiveled. “I lov—”
I cut her off with another kiss, stealing the commitment she was about to make by pushing inside her at the same time. I swallowed her gasps and moans, drinking in her cries of pleasure as we found a pace that worked in the small, too-narrow car. My knees bumped against the door panel as I pumped harder, but I didn’t dare move my lips from hers—the thing she was about to admit twisting like a sharp knife lodged in my heart.
Rose loved me.
And I never felt more devastated by something I thought I wanted in all my life.
Her fingers dug into my shirt, clawing and pushing away from me to give her the breath she needed to finish her statement. But I refused to hear it. Not until she knew the truth. Not until I knew she could love me for the person I truly was—for the things I’d done when we were nothing but two children in the same class, one completely smitten and intrigued while the other only remembered pieces of herself that no one alive could shed light on—except for me. Some things trauma gave to you—anxiety, fear, desperation for things, or people who were out of reach. Other times, trauma could take like a hungry beast—your ability to function in normal situations, your voice, your memories. It always left an impression no matter how hard you fought against it.
Rose loved me for the person she saw now, the one she thought she knew completely. She’d likely never remember the fact that we grew up together for a brief time before high school, that I used to look at her as an innocent eight-year-old kid like she was the reason for each of the constellations in the sky, the pieces of dead stars only coming together in a full picture because she’d made it possible. She made everything whole. My young heart wasn’t prepared to actually fall in love with her then—no, what I felt at that time was infatuation. Hope. But now…now I was positive that without her, those constellations would all be as meaningless as the rest of my existence. Without her, the world would be bleak, keeping me in the clutches of an endless torture worse than anything my father could dream of doing to me. If he knew who she was, knew what she’d become for me regardless of his attempts to end it, he’d have her killed.
There was no turning back from wanting to be with her—that was already settled in my mind. As I told her, she was mine, and I was hers. That wasn’t where my internal turmoil was sputtering out of control. I loved Rose Fields, she loved me, and because of that—because I’d been so fucking selfish and hadn’t told her the entire truth—she would become a target. And I’d sooner die than have her ripped from my arms.
Rose’s breathing was intensifying, her pussy gripping my cock so fiercely I knew I wouldn’t be far behind her. I slowed her hips, holding her waist down as I gave shallow pumps, feeling every ridge of her convulsing while I grew mad at the sensations.
“Right there, baby. Just like that,” I growled between our slowing kisses, her lips gliding over mine in a way that I was certain she’d become so engrossed in her impending orgasm that she’d only get out breaths and moans if I stopped covering her mouth. I relaxed my hold on her, slipping a hand up to the nape of her neck while my other worked its way down to her clit. She ground against my thumb as I flicked and circled the tightly wound bud. “Come for me, Rose.”
Her head fell forward on my shoulder as I slid my throbbing cock in and out of her, letting her body bring me to my release just as hers began to roar to life. She murmured my name against my neck, her lips warm and soft as she placed heavenly kisses along my skin. Her pussy clenched me, milking me for everything I had as I continued to swirl her sensitive clit, making her stomach tremble. I wanted nothing more than to tell her I loved her, too. I wanted to hold her closer and profess my undying devotion to her as I filled her with my release. But I kept my mouth sealed against her damp skin, pushing her hair from her neck and continuing up on a path toward her plush lips. I kissed her passionately, my hands shifting to hold her mouth to mine, guiding her by her hair and neck to open her up more for me as my tongue swept into her mouth.
Her legs were shaking as they flanked my hips, my cock still buried inside her, acting as that plug I not-so-jokingly told her I’d get her. With as little movement as possible, I shifted the car back on the road and headed for the house. A few minutes later, I was carrying her from the car, our bodies still joined, fighting against the cold with the heat of our renewed desire. She wriggled in my hold, kissing my neck and shoulder through my shirt as I pressed my thumb to the lock, forcing it to open with one of the only two thumbprints that would work—mine or hers.
The moment I closed the door with a kick, I laid her down on the couch, stripped the rest of my clothes off, and made love to her all night long in the one place I could picture the rest of my life with her in—our home.
My phone rang on the white quartz island, Rose’s folded arms as she slept face-down on the large, white sectional stopping my heart as I answered on the third ring.
“What do you need?”
“Not even a good morning, or how are you, just a what do you need ? Damn, okay. I need to know where the fuck you went. I showed up at your house earlier, but Rhonda said you hadn’t come home yet. She was worried, the poor thing.”
I opened the double-panel fridge, one of those hidden ones that blended with the cabinetry. I just hoped the upgrades I had made wouldn’t be too much for Rose’s tastes. “I’m good. Tell her I’m alive and well.”
Dean paused, his voice muffled as he relayed that information to Rhonda, indicating he was still at the estate. He was silent for a few long seconds, then asked, “So, you fixed things, then? You aren’t out on some bender, becoming a fucking druggie?”
“I don’t know if I fixed things, but I’m not on anything.”
“Jesus, can you just elaborate a little more and tell me where you are, how you are, shit like that?”
I chuckled, pulling out the milk carton and walking over to the walk-in pantry for the pancake mix. “Do you know how to make pancakes?” I asked, ignoring him and reading the back label. Surprisingly, I only had to restock the fridge once before finally getting Rose here.
“Fuck no.” Dean laughed and the sounds of shuffling filled the phone’s speaker—probably the phone rubbing against his stubbled jaw, something I was now rocking these past few days, even though Father would kill me for looking so disheveled. I didn’t fucking care—Rose seemed to love it as it scraped against her skin. I was sure she had red marks between her thighs from the night we had.
I smiled as she shifted against the couch, still sound asleep with a throw blanket wrapped around her. “Right, well. I guess I’m about to learn, then.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Briggs,” Dean said low, his voice exasperated.
“I do.” I spun a pan in my hand before setting it down on the stove, careful not to make any sounds that would wake her. “Gotta go.” I ended the call before Dean could reply. He’d find out sooner or later where I’d gone, and once he did, he’d either show up or leave me to my brief moment of peace before I had to return .
A few minutes into flipping slightly burnt pancakes, unsure how the hell one side ended up burnt while another looked vastly undercooked, Rose stirred awake. I kept my focus on the pan, adding new batter while smiling down at it, watching her wrap the blanket around her naked body through my periphery. She made her way over to the opposite end of the island, sitting on one of the stools across from the stovetop.
“Are you burning it?” she asked, cocking her head as she looked at the stack of almost black pancakes.
“I’m trying not to, but I never learned how to cook.”
She giggled and stood back up, walking around the island to stand behind me. Her warmth enveloped me as she opened the blanket and wrapped it around us both, hugging me from behind.
I groaned, dropping the spatula to the side of the stove. “This batch won’t be any better if you’re distracting me.”
She kissed my back in a pattern that I imagined outlined pieces of Atlas. “That’s okay. I’m not really hungry for food, anyway.”
I grinned at the reminder of what I’d said to her before. “No?”
“Uh-uh.”
I turned off the stove and spun in her hold, scooping her up and settling her ass on the countertop. She squealed, laughing and dropping the blanket, letting it fall to her waist.
“You’re being a bad girl, baby.”
“Am I?” Her cheeks pinked over as she leaned back on the heels of her palms, pushing her perky tits up.
My cock twitched eagerly. “Fuck, yes.” I reached over to the small bowl of strawberry topping, dipping my fingers in and getting a generous amount. “Do you want to be a good little slut for me?” She whimpered and nodded as I spread the topping along her nipples, pinching them before drawing a line down to her pussy. She gasped as I stopped right above her cunt, drawing an arrow with the red dessert, turning her into my favorite piece of art. “I bet you’re so fucking wet right now.” I pushed two clean fingers inside her, scraping my teeth against her nipple, devouring my favorite treats all mixed in one.
Her fingers twisted into my hair, pressing me harder against her. I chuckled, flicking my tongue along the swell of her breast, then moved on to the next, delivering the same treatment.
“Briggs, about l-last night—” She inhaled a gasp as I bit down crudely, marking her breast with my teeth and then sucking her strawberry-sweet nipple into my mouth. She tried to pull my head away, but between the pleasure and the way I wasn’t stopping, she finally gave up. My tongue lapped down the line I’d made, hovering right above her clit as my two fingers pumped languidly inside her tight walls.
“Let’s talk later, beautiful. Lean back more, and let me take care of you.”
She did as I said with a cute little pout on her plumped-up, swollen lips. I reached over for more strawberry topping and covered her mouth, then licked it up slowly, savoring her taste above all else. “Baby, you have no idea how intoxicated I am by you.”
She made a breathy sound through my bites along her lips. A soft touch fell to my waistband before grazing the crown of my cock, and I groaned. “You want me to fill you back up, baby? ”
She whimpered more, spreading her legs as I knelt and swiped the remaining strawberry topping over her slit, then licked slowly up her center, relishing the taste of her. “In. Now,” she ordered, and I quickly obliged. Standing, I lined myself up with her entrance and thrust into her. She reached between us, gathering her arousal before pushing her fingers into my lips, the taste of her mixing with strawberries as she kissed me immediately after.
“God, you taste so good.”
Wrapping her hair around my fist, I pounded harder, chasing both our releases. Rose’s moans filled our home, echoing off the vaulted ceilings, possibly rattling the snow from the windows with the extent of her cries. Her orgasm hit her hard, her head rolling back as I finished inside her, then fell to my knees, using my clean fingers to take our combined release and running it up the length of her sticky abdomen. Heat filled her eyes as she watched me lap it up, ending on her lips. “So fucking good together.”
She had no idea where she was yet, but she was helping me break it in more beautifully than I could have ever hoped for. I told her I’d fuck her on every surface possible, told her I’d fill her up and make her mine, and I meant it.