Chapter Seventeen
Drew
The storm was relentless. It rattled the windows as if personally offended by the warmth and light we’d claimed for ourselves, snow pouring from the sky in sheets that swallowed the world beyond the glass.
But inside, with Bella asleep against my chest, the gale transformed into a shield.
It was a cocooned reminder that while the life outside required armor and consequence, in here there was nothing but breath, heat, and the soft weight of a woman who had finally stopped fighting herself long enough to rest.
Bella’s hair lay dark and silky across my arm, completely unregulated. Her lashes rested on her cheeks, and the sharp lines she usually wore like a badge were gone. She looked younger this way. Not fragile, for she was never fragile, but truly unguarded.
My hand moved over her back in a slow, steady rhythm, as if touching her could prove she was real.
I should have been thinking about the office, the storm, the kids, or my father.
Instead, my mind kept returning to the undeniable fact that although I’d known Bella Holliston my entire life, I’d never once known her like this.
She was raw, open, and mine in a way that felt both terrifying and inevitable.
I tilted my head and pressed a kiss to her temple. She stirred, a quiet sound catching in her throat as she snuggled closer, as if she’d decided I was exactly where she belonged. The feeling hit me in the chest, sharp and immediate.
Bella’s eyes blinked open, unfocused at first. Then she looked up at me, and the memory of last night flashed across her face. It wasn’t shame or regret; it was recognition. It was the look of a woman who could still feel me, who remembered exactly what it was like to trade control for wanting.
For a moment, she just stared, as if she didn’t know what to do with tenderness in the morning. Then she cleared her throat and tried to pull back. I didn’t let her. Keeping my arm firm, I held her close without trapping her.
“Good morning,” I murmured.
Her mouth twitched. “It’s barely morning. It looks like the apocalypse outside.”
Glancing past her, I saw the window blurred by snow under a sky the color of lead. “It’s Vermont,” I said. “This is their normal winter.”
Bella gave a soft snort, but her eyes didn’t leave mine. The silence thickened as she became aware of herself, her bare skin against mine and my hand resting low on her back. She realized that if she moved even a little, I would be inside her space again.
Her breath caught. I didn’t rush. Last night had been combustion; it was inevitable, necessary, and wild. This morning, I wanted to take my time and make sure she felt it.
“Still tired?” I asked, my voice low.
Bella’s eyes narrowed. She knew I wasn’t talking about sleep. “Possibly,” she said.
It was the closest thing to flirting I’d ever heard from her, and it did something to me.
I shifted my hand up her spine, letting my fingertips trail over her warm skin.
Bella shivered, her body responding before her mind could decide if it was allowed.
Her gaze dropped to my mouth, and I kissed her.
It wasn’t hard or greedy; it was a morning kiss, deep and deliberate, like a promise that didn’t require words.
Her fingers curled into my shoulder as she softened into me.
She kissed me back, tentative at first, like she was relearning how to be this woman.
Then her hips shifted against mine, and the control was gone.
I rolled her gently onto her back and hovered over her, bracing my weight on my forearms. Bella blinked up at me with swollen lips and dark eyes.
“Drew,” she whispered.
“Tell me you want this as much as I do,” I said, meaning every word.
Her answer came when her hands moved to my face, pulling me down to kiss her harder. I slid a hand down her side, over the curve of her waist and the flare of her hip. She arched under my touch, her breath breaking. She was still half asleep and already burning.
I kissed her throat, her jaw, and the sensitive skin behind her ear.
She made a sound that turned my blood hot.
My hand moved between her thighs and she opened for me, warm, slick, and responsive in a way that felt like she’d been waiting for this her entire life.
I touched her slowly at first, watching her eyes flutter and her mouth open on silent words.
Bella gripped my shoulder. “Don’t be careful,” she breathed.
She didn’t want gentleness; she wanted to be taken seriously. She wanted to be wanted. I leaned down and kissed her mouth as my fingers moved with firm, sure purpose exactly where she needed. Her head tilted back, her hand clutched the sheets, and her breathing turned ragged.
Outside, the storm roared louder. Inside, she came undone, whispering my name like it finally meant something.
I felt my own restraint slip. I reached for the nightstand drawer, and the crackle of the foil package made her eyes snap open with heat and a level of trust I was determined to deserve.
When I entered her, moving slowly so I could feel every inch, she gasped and pulled me closer, as if she couldn’t stand the distance between us.
Her nails dug into my back. Her lips brushed my ear. “Harder.”
I groaned against her mouth, the sound rough and real.
The rhythm built quickly, her legs wrapping around my waist as her mouth found mine.
The bed creaked and the storm hammered the windows, but the world disappeared.
Bella met every thrust with an intensity that stripped away the calm, polished woman she pretended to be.
This was the raw Bella, the one who wanted and demanded without apology.
I could have stayed inside her forever.
When she came, it was with a sharp cry that broke something in me.
I followed a heartbeat later, my breath shaking and my body going still over hers.
For a moment, we were nothing but warmth and the quiet thunder of what we’d done.
I collapsed beside her and pulled her against my chest. She curled into me without hesitation, her fingers tracing my ribs absentmindedly.
Outside, the storm raged. Inside, she was quiet. Too quiet.
I tipped her chin up gently. “You okay?”
She nodded after a blink, but her eyes were already trying to build walls. I kissed her forehead. “Up. Shower.”
Her brows lifted. “You’re giving orders now?”
“Yes,” I said easily. “And you like it.”
She huffed, but there was softness in it. “I neither confirm nor deny that.”
With a low chuckle, I got out of bed and picked her up. Bella protested and shot me a look, but I only smiled back. “I could get used to carrying you around.”
“I hate you,” she muttered.
I leaned in and kissed her mouth. “No, you don’t.”
She melted and opened to that kiss. The shower was hot enough to fog the mirrors, wrapping us in steam that softened the edges of the world. When I stepped behind her and slid my hands over her shoulders, she leaned into my touch.
“How did I never reach across that fence?” I asked quietly.
She softened back into me. “I don’t want to think about that.”
I pressed a kiss to her neck and let the subject drop, but it was all I could think about. Her. Us. How she could have been there every summer and I hadn’t once imagined us like this.
I soaped my hands and washed her slowly, like it was a right she deserved. When my hands slid over her stomach and the inner curve of her thighs, her breath hitched. She turned her head slightly. “Okay, I admit you do have some charm.”
I pulled her to me and growled into her neck. “Some?”
Bella’s mouth curved. “Okay, more than I would have imagined.”
I laughed. “You’re a difficult woman to get a compliment from, and I kind of love that.”
“And you talk too much,” she said, her cheeks turning pink.
I kissed her again, slow and deep. We made love again, slowly and confidently, but with even more heat than the night before. We were two lovers who’d already learned what the other liked, wanting to take each other higher, longer, and wilder.
It was a shower that required a breather and a second wash down. After we dried off and dressed, I watched her move with her usual precision, competent even with damp hair and a towel around her shoulders.
“Don’t,” she warned when she noticed.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t look at me like that.” Her voice sharpened. “Like you’re studying me.”
I leaned against the doorframe, amused. “Have you considered that I might simply be admiring?”
Her lips pursed, but her cheeks warmed. She walked past me toward the kitchen and I followed, loving the view every step of the way. The staff had already been through, and the scent of rich, dark coffee hit us immediately.
Bella paused in the doorway. “I like your style.”
“Coffee is what gains me a compliment?” I asked with humor. “My poor cock thought for sure he’d be what brought the accolades.”
Eyes twinkling, she took the mug like a small miracle, closing her eyes after the first sip. “Well, I’ve known coffee longer.”
I barked out a laugh at that. “Touché. I’ll tell my cock it’s not a contest. Honestly, he’s just happy to be around you.”
She looked as if she were holding something back, then she burst out laughing. “I can’t. I can’t allow you to talk about your dick like it’s another person in the room.” She raised her hand. “And if you have a name for it, please, please don’t tell me.”
I loved to see her like this: silly and playful. I shook my head. “Nothing sadder than an unnamed cock.”
She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her mouth. We moved to sit in front of the fireplace again, this time on the couch, where we ate then simply leaned into each other and enjoyed the peace of the fire.