Chapter 12
Addicted – Saving Abel
Wilder
“You were a little distracted tonight,” Gunner said, handing me the empty popcorn bowl he’d just washed. “We could have beat the girls at Trivial Pursuit if you hadn’t had your head over the other side of the ranch.”
I shot him a glare and kept drying the bowl in silence.
He wasn’t wrong, my thoughts were definitely across the ranch, but I’d be damned if I told him that.
“We do know that you have a thing for Tally.” He nudged me, grinning. “Might as well fess up, buddy.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yet you’re still drying that bowl like it’s got state secrets hidden in it.”
“Again, no idea what you’re talking about.”
“He spilled the full can of beans yet?”
I groaned as Nash walked in carrying empty beer bottles and two wine glasses. “Dumb and even more dumb coming in hot with an interrogation.”
Gunner dumped the water and yanked the towel from me. He leaned back against the sink and dried his own, smirking at our older brother.
“He says he’s clueless. I call bullshit.”
“Yep,” Nash added, placing the glasses in the sink. “Same here. And if you don’t tell us, Lily and Cassidy will make it their mission to find out exactly the kind of dance you and Tally are doing.”
“Horizontal.” Gunner chuckled at his own joke.
I grabbed the towel back and whipped him around the head with it. “Dick!”
“Hey, you better not mark me in any way. You don’t want Cassidy on your tail for maiming me.”
“She’s just an itty bitty thing, as if she could hurt me.” It was a lie. I was actually scared of my future sister-in-law. I’d seen the way she handled my brother. “You all need to stay out of my business.”
“Nash thinks you’re pissed ‘cause she had a visitor today,” Gunner said, way too casually.
I turned sharply to Nash. “You ran off and spilled right after we talked? Jesus, what is this, high school? You want to do our hair and nails together before prom, too?”
Gunner cracked up. “Do you not think I already knew? Setting up that board money account was a dead giveaway, little brother.”
“Yeah, Wilder,” Nash scoffed. “It was Gunner who told me.”
“Oh, great so it’s elementary school now. And,” I said,” pointing at Gunner, “you were the one who said we shouldn’t take the money. I just facilitated that for you.”
I wasn’t even mad about the money. Yes, it had been my idea to set up the account, but it didn’t mean I was in love with her.
What I was mad about was her visitor, because despite what Tally had told me about her ex-husband, it still gnawed at me that he’d shown up.
I trusted her, I did, but Declan didn’t strike me as someone who liked hearing ‘no’.
And I hated that I couldn’t shake the unease.
“If there was anything to say, I’d say it.”
Plenty I could have said. How she made my skin burn in the best way. How her laugh made something ease deep in my chest. How she listened, really listened, and never judged. But I wasn’t ready to say any of it. We were what we were, and it suited me. No labels. No mess.
“Who knew she had a husband,” Gunner said, his tone prodding.
The words hovered on the tip of my tongue, but my jaw locked them in.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Who knew.”
Gunner rolled his hand, prompting. “And you’re pissed because…”
“He’s the jackass who rode Dream Maker into the gates.”
Gunner’s brows shot up. Nash let out a slow breath. We’d all remembered what shape Dreamy was in when Tally brought him here. The horse was on the brink.
“Is he here for the horse or his wife?” Nash asked, hand heavy on my shoulder. Solid. Supportive. A silent ‘I’m here for you’.
I shrugged. “Well, he hasn’t signed the divorce papers, so...”
“She want him back?”
“She said not,” I said firmly. “Blames him for what happened to Dreamy. Says he’s controlling.”
They traded a look. I knew what it meant.
“Let Tally handle it,” I said, meeting both their eyes. “She’s tough. She’ll ask for help if she needs it.”
Gunner nodded. “Noted. If he shows up here again, though, I’m kicking his ass off our land whether she asks or not.” He moved past me, heading for the refrigerator. “He even looks at Dreamy, we’re digging a shallow grave out by the creek.”
“Point taken.”
Gunner grabbed two beers, handing one to Nash.
“Where’s mine?” I asked, hands on hips.
Nash smirked, clinking bottles with Gunner’s. “Thought you had a certain red head to visit.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I cleared my throat and glanced out the window toward the stables. Toward her cabin. Wondering if the lights were still on. Wondering if she was in those blue plaid pajamas that I secretly loved.
They both laughed, low, knowing chuckles that made me want to smack them both in the nuts.
“Just go,” Nash said over his shoulder, strolling out of the kitchen. “Stop sneaking out like a teenager in the middle of the night.”
“What makes you think—”
“I’ve got a baby who isn’t sleeping well at the moment and a wife who’s nosier than a raccoon in a trash can.”
Gunner followed him, leaving me in the quiet kitchen, staring out into the dark.
“Fuck it,” I muttered heading for the back door, because while I wasn’t ready to say what this was, I sure as hell wasn’t ready to let it go.
The path between the house and Tally’s cabin was short, yet tonight it felt longer. Like the night was stretching it on purpose, giving me time to second guess the steps I was taking. Daring me to turn back. Daring me to keep going and be where my soul always felt at peace.
I didn’t knock. Tonight, I felt we were past knocking.
Inside the lights were low. Only the flicker from the fire and the soft golden wash of the lamp in the corner.
Tally was curled up on the sofa, and yes she was in those damn blue plaid pajamas.
There was a book open on her lap, but she wasn’t reading it, she was staring at the fire.
As my boots sounded on the floor she looked up, not startling when she saw me.
Just blinking slowly. A simple greeting like she was expecting me.
“Thought you’d probably be early tonight,” she said quietly.
“Would have been even earlier but I got held up by two nosey assholes and a popcorn bowl.”
Her smile was soft and tired. “Big night then?”
I walked to her in a few steps, the air shifting between us. I didn’t sit. Just looked down at her, hands in my pockets, heart kicking a little too fast.
“You okay?” I asked.
She nodded, then hesitated. “Yeah. Just…Declan showing up rattled me. I’m mad at myself for letting it get to me.”
“You’re allowed. Doesn’t mean you’re weak.” I breathed out slowly, allowing the peace to infuse my blood. “You don’t have to tell me everything. Just… don’t shut me out completely. I can handle your mess. I’ve got my own. We can be messy together. Like emotionally unstable raccoons, but hotter.”
She giggled, one that made my chest fill with something warm.
“Maybe we can, but I hate that he still thinks he gets a say. That he still tries to push buttons just to see what I’ll do.”
I crouched down in front of her. Her knees brushed mine as I took her hand. “He doesn’t get to take up space in your head anymore. Besides,” I said moving closer, “that space is mine now.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Brownie, I’m sure of exactly two things. I’ll always want to protect you, and I’ll always want to ruin you.”
She studied me for a second, then reached out a hand and curled her fingers into the hem of my shirt. “And here you are doing both,” she said, the words catching on something between a sigh and surrender.
“That sounds like an invitation.”
“That depends.” Her voice dipped. “Are you here to talk about my ex-husband? Or to forget the world for a little while?”
“Neither,” I whispered. “I’m here because I can’t stay away.”
Her breath caught as she felt the shift at the same time as I did. A shift that neither of us wanted to name.
I leaned in, brushed a knuckle along her jaw. “Brownie…”
The nickname I’d given her hit differently tonight. Not playful. Not teasing. It sounded reverent. It felt reverent. A memory to tether myself to.
She reached for me, tugging me down until I was beside her, half on the couch, half wrapped around her. The book fell to the floor with a soft thud.
Our mouths met with urgency, not rushed or frantic, just steady and searching. I kissed her like I was experiencing her for the first time. Like her lips held answers that I didn’t even know I was looking for.
Her hands slipped beneath my shirt, fingers skating across my stomach, sending heat spiraling low. When she kissed my jaw, my neck, my collar bone, I let my head fall back, eyes closing, breath hitching.
“You make it hard to think straight,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers.
“Then don’t,” she whispered. “Just feel.”
I laid her back against the cushions; the firelight casting shadows across her face. She looked up at me like she was trying to memorize something, and maybe she was. I knew I was.
Our clothes came off fast, not tossed aside so much as torn from each other with low, desperate laughs and muttered curses.
The heat from the fire brushed over our bare skin, the scent of lavender and scorched wood curling in the air.
I couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t get enough of the way her skin burned under my palms, the way her breath hitched each time my fingers found new territory.
There was no patience in me tonight. No slow build. Just the ache to have her.
I caught her ankle, hauled it over my shoulder, and dragged my mouth up the inside of her thigh.
Her skin was warm and smooth, tasting faintly of salt and heat.
I bit and kissed my way higher, my tongue teasing that tender spot where her leg met her hip.
I was about to bury my face in her pussy when her fingers curled into my hair and tugged my head up.
“No,” she breathed, eyes dark and locked on mine. “Tonight, I just need you. Inside me. Just make me forget.”
Christ. My cock jerked so hard it hurt.
“Yes, ma’am.” My voice came out rough, low, already breaking with need.
I lined myself up, my hand wrapping gently at her throat, and drove into her in one hard, deep thrust that punched a gasp from her lips. The slick heat of her almost undid me right there.
“Not yet,” I said, my voice low as her hips shifted, trying to take more.
My hands clamped her in place. “You wait for me, Brownie. You don’t move until I say.
” Her breath hitched, frustration making her eyes flash.
“Say it,” I demanded, tightening my grip on her wrists above her head. “Tell me you’ll wait.”
When she whispered, “I’ll wait,” I started slowly, rolling my hips so deep her mouth fell open, before snapping forward, hard enough to make the sofa shift. “That’s my girl. Now take it. Every fucking thing I give to you.”
Her hands framed my face, her eyes wide open and raw.
My hips snapping, grinding us together with every thrust. She met me stroke for stroke, our skin slapping, her moans spilling into the air with the crackle of the fire.
I felt the muscles in her thighs shudder against my sides, her nails digging into my shoulders, dragging me closer.
Could I be what she needed? Could I keep giving myself like this without it breaking us both? Then she spoke.
“Wilder… don’t look away.”
“I won’t,” I rasped, and I didn’t.
Not when she cried my name like it was the only word she knew. Not when her body clenched so tight around me I saw stars. Not when I was fighting to hold on, to keep from spilling inside her right then.
“I want to come over your tits,” I groaned, my voice breaking. “Spill my cum on you. Mark you with it.”
“Do it,” she said, licking her lips. “Take your dick and jerk off over me.” Her eyes glittered with hunger, making me harder, making me want to stay buried inside her forever.
Pulling out of her made my chest ache, but the thought of marking her made my blood thrum.
“Look at me, Brownie,” I gritted out, taking myself in my hand, slick from her desire, and pumping hard. My balls tightened, every muscle in my body coiling.
Tally’s lips parted. “In my mouth. I want you in my mouth.”
“If you say so.” I shoved my cock between her soft, deep pink lips and set my hand at the back of her head. “Take it, Brownie. Fuck my mouth and swallow every last drop.”
I hit the back of her throat, her eyes glassy as they looked up at me.
“Want me to stop?”
She shook her head, gripping my wrist, urging me deeper.
When her hand slid to her clit, rubbing in quick circles, I spilled into her with a groan, hips jerking, holding myself down her throat like I could make her mine from the inside out.
She swallowed every single drop, looking up at me a smile of deep satisfaction.
As I moved to pull away, she tightened her lips around my length, sucking every inch until I was fully out and she licked the end like it was a popsicle.
“Fucking incredible,” I said on a groan, dropping down on top of her, my arm above her head, my fingers threading through her messy hair. “Thank you,”
Wrecked and panting, I stayed there, forehead pressed to hers, because letting go felt impossible, so as I rolled to my back I took her with me.
Lying tangled and still, heartbeats syncing, breath slowing, I pulled a wool throw over her and tucked it in tight like I was sealing something precious in place.
Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, I whispered, “World’s a mess, Brownie.
But right now, in this room, with you, it feels like the only thing that makes sense. ”
She pressed her cheek to my chest, her voice a faint thread against my skin. “So let’s just stay here for now, where nothing hurts.”
Outside, the wind clawed at the windows, but in the cabin, with her wrapped into my side, it felt like the world had gone still. The kind of quiet you don’t question. The kind you hold your breath to keep.
I didn’t know if it felt the same for her but for me, something had shifted. Irrevocably.
Knowing she’d been someone else’s. That he’d tried to control her. That he’d left marks that didn’t show on her skin but settled somewhere deeper. That wrecked me more than I could admit.
And now, having seen what it did to her, having felt her press into me like I was a safe place to land. Hell, there was no coming back from that.