Chapter Fifteen #2
She tried to rein it in, curling her fingers around the back of the couch.
“Holy shit, Crew. That’s sick. You said your father was a dick.
He’s not just a dick. He’s a nuclear meltdown of a human being, and don’t get me started on her.
It’s people like her who give all women a bad name. I want to rearrange both their faces.”
“I know the feeling. But in that moment, the floor was kicked out from under me. I couldn’t see straight, much less think about retaliation.” His jaw ticked, and he met her gaze. “That was the night of the accident.”
Something cold gripped Birdie as the timeline snapped into place with the betrayal he’d carried into that night.
“After all of that went down, I didn’t care what happened to me,” he said regretfully. “I took off, and I drove blindly, trying to get as far away from her and my fucking father as I could.”
He didn’t look away, didn’t try to avoid the truth, as he said, “I drank until I was too fucking numb to feel anything. Then I made the biggest mistake of my life and got back in my car. What happened that night is on me. I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t.
I own that, and I will carry it with me until the day I die. ” His vehemence was loaded with pain.
Birdie’s heart thudded too heavily to speak, anguish consuming her.
To say he made a mistake was true, even if it sounded too small for the outcome.
It was a catastrophic mistake, but a mistake just the same.
How many times had she had one drink too many and still chanced the ride home?
There weren’t many, but even once was too much.
She knew it wasn’t the same as drinking far too much, but it kind of was. She’d just gotten lucky.
“When I realized what I’d done,” he said, “there was no version of myself left that made any sense. And to make matters worse, in the aftermath of it all, my father didn’t apologize or try to make amends.
He came to see me once to say he’d pay off the fucking judge and pull strings so I’d walk away scot-free.
As if what I’d done hadn’t shattered the lives of others and could be erased by greasing someone’s palms. He’s so fucking sick. ”
He looked away, his jaw clenched, and his whole body locked down, as if he was bracing for impact. Something inside her cracked open. She moved closer, swinging one knee over his thighs, straddling his lap, and wound her arms around his neck, pulling him into her.
He stiffened, his hands grazing her hips. “Birdie, what are you doing?”
“Hugging you.”
“You don’t have to,” he bit out. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not,” she said against his neck, holding him tighter, his heart hammering against her. “And neither am I.”
He exhaled, gruff and ragged. “How can you even want to be near me after what I did to your family?”
She drew back just enough to see his eyes. “How can I not after what you’ve been through?”
“Trouble,” he rasped, his arms circling her.
He crushed her against his chest, burying his face in her hair, and for a moment that’s all there was—their rampant heartbeats, rough breathing, and the awful truth wrapping around them, intensifying the pull between them.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” The words scraped out of him.
“I know,” she whispered, her own voice tortured.
He lifted his head, his eyes searching hers, as raw and unguarded as the heart he’d lain bare.
The air between them pulsed with the greediest of desire.
The kind that consumed everything in its orbit, that held the power to heal and hurt, with the sharp edges of being forbidden, and God help her, because she didn’t care.
She wanted to soothe both their pain, to disappear into the place they’d both felt safe.
His hands curled tighter around her waist. “I never meant to—”
She pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly. As their lips parted, she stayed close, giving them both time to pull back.
They didn’t.
His mouth found hers again, tenderly at first, as if asking if she was sure.
She answered by deepening the kiss, her fingers sliding into his hair, grounding him in the moment.
He groaned, the sounds swallowed by the heat between them.
“Trouble,” he murmured against her lips, gruff desire wrapped in restraint.
“Kiss me, Ragnar,” she rasped.
And he did, deep and deliberate, fisting his hands in her hair so tight, stings of pleasure and pain sliced through her. She was right there with him, meeting every eager stroke of his tongue with one of her own. She ground against his cock, earning the sexiest, guttural sound of restraint.
He tugged her hair, breaking their kiss, and gritted out, “We shouldn’t do this.”
“I don’t care.” She pressed her lips to his again.
“You’ll regret it,” he said between rough, hungry kisses.
She pulled back, meeting his fierce, troubled eyes, which only made her want him more. “I won’t.” She kissed him softly. “But even if I do, that’s my problem, not yours to take on.”
“I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“The fact that you can even think about that while I’m straddling you tells me you won’t.” She pressed her hand to his cheek, his beard tickling her palm. “Make waves with me, Ragnar. Be a fucking tsunami.”
His restraint snapped with a growl, and he crushed his mouth to hers, rougher and more possessive than ever before.
He gripped her suede-covered thighs, gritting out, “Fuck.” His big, hot hands moved over her body like he owned it, lighting her up like a firework.
They stripped each other’s shirts off in a blur of passionate kisses and desperate moans.
He tore off her bra, and she fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, going up on her knees as he tugged his wallet from his back pocket.
She started to get up, to give him room, but his arm swept around her, his eyes blazing. “Stay.”
Her body flamed as he shoved his jeans down his thighs and sheathed his cock.
He tugged her thong to the side, and she sank down, taking in every thick inch of him.
Pleasure shot through her. Their mouths collided in rough, reckless kisses as raw, primal passion took over.
She rode him hard, every downward slide sending a rush of pleasure through her, earning praise from him.
“So fucking good…So tight.” Their movements were fierce and aggressive, their sounds loud and needful.
He slid a hand between them, teasing her clit, and she lost it, crying out so loud, she was sure the neighbors heard her, but she was too far gone to care. As she came down from the peak, he clutched her hips, stilling her on his cock. “Did you miss this, Trouble? Miss my cock filling you?”
“God yes,” she panted out, the pressure of remaining still driving her out of her mind.
He lowered his mouth to her breast, teasing her nipple as he thrust impossibly deeper, still holding her tight against him.
She whimpered with desperation, rocking and gyrating, her fingernails digging into his flesh.
“Did you miss my mouth on your gorgeous tits?” He sucked one to the roof of his mouth.
“Yes!” flew from her lips, pinpricks of pleasure racing through her.
Then his mouth was on hers, one hand working her clit to perfection, the other squeezing her nipple, catapulting her into another earth-shattering climax.
As she came down from the high, he reclaimed her mouth, thrusting and grinding. She gave in to the savage need he unleashed in her, and the next surge hit harder, dragging her under. He was right there with her, catching the same wave, clinging to her like he never wanted to let go.
They clung to each other as the last of the tremors rippled through them. Adrift in pleasure, she said, “Why does this feel so right?”
CREW LAY ON his back with Birdie warm and soft against his side, her cheek resting on his chest, her leg draped over his thigh.
Their heat still lingered, but the urgency had ebbed, leaving something quieter.
Her fingers moved lazily along his chest and shoulder.
Being this close should feel claustrophobic.
Instead, it felt like he was standing in open air after a lifetime spent underground.
She kissed a path along the trail where her fingers had been, and he realized she wasn’t absently moving her fingers. She was tracing his scars from the accident.
His chest constricted.
This wasn’t just complicated. It was probably impossible. He was trying to find his way past doing the wrong thing, figuring out how to make amends with the people he hurt. Getting involved with Birdie would only piss them off.
“Planning your escape?” she asked softly.
“Not yet.” He kissed the top of her head. “Unless you want me to take off?”
“You’re not getting off that easily, Ragnar.” She stretched her arm across him, hugging him, and tipped her face up, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
“Can I still use a Viking name with short hair?”
“You’re still big and delicious. You’ll always be my Viking.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “I like being able to see your face, and I like you in my space.” She rested her cheek on him again.
Fuck if that didn’t make him all kinds of happy. But the truth bullied its way in, and he bit the bullet. “I like being in your space, too, but we both know this isn’t possible.”
Her head popped up. “Excuse me, but multiple orgasms have proven otherwise.”
Grinning, he hugged her against his side. “You know what I mean. Before maybe things could have been different. In that other lifetime, when I was the guy who was trusted at first glance. But now I’m permanently marked, seen as morally suspect, and for good reason. Especially by your family.”
She rose up on her forearm, her brows knitting. “Good people can make bad choices. It doesn’t make them bad people.”
“That’s generous,” he said, though it wasn’t the first time he’d heard it.
“Maybe,” she said firmly. “But it’s still true, and my family knows that.” She sounded almost sure of it.
His chest ached with the reality of their situation.
He caressed her cheek, wanting to believe her, to make it happen, but he was too into her to pretend.
“I’m still trying to figure out how to navigate my new existence, and what I did will stick with me forever.
You don’t need my mess in your life. I will always be the guy who got behind that wheel and nearly killed Dare and Billie. ”
Sadness rose in her eyes.
He kissed her softly. “There’s no version of this that doesn’t hurt someone.”
Impossibility settled between them like a villain.
He shifted onto his side, pulling her closer. “We both knew this was a bad idea.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But I don’t regret it.”
He touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. “Me neither.”
They lay there, breathing each other in, knowing this couldn’t happen again.
And wanting it anyway.