Chapter 57 #2
Before I’ve even stopped speaking, Pierce has shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.
“She’s always been intuitive,” he says, tugging the lapels together over my chest. His words may be about Viv, but from the way his voice lowers and his hands slow, I know every syllable is for me.
I remind myself to breathe as his fingers skim the fabric of my dress.
“Maeve.” This time, it sounds like he’s physically in pain as he says it. He shoves a hand into his dark hair, ruining his hairstyle but also making it better. Less polished, more bedroom Pierce, and my knees wobble like a baby deer’s. “I wish I had fought harder for you.”
Shaking my head as tears continue forming at the corners of my eyes, I say, “I don’t know that it would have changed things.” Back then, I was convinced that anything with Pierce would lead to epic destruction.
“I lost four months with you,” he growls, yanking me against him with a quick tug of my waist. “Don’t think I’m going to forget about that very easily.”
I gasp as our bodies collide, sending jolts of pleasure vibrating through my every bone and nerve ending. “What about your date?” I almost forgot about the stunning blond. She wasn’t sitting next to him at dinner, but that doesn’t mean anything.
A glint of amusement lights his eyes before he leans down and runs his lips over the column of my neck. “You mean my cousin Tiffany?”
I’m unclear on what oxygen is at this moment, let alone words strung together into sentences, but I manage to say, “You brought your cousin as your date?”
His teeth gently bite my jaw. “Not a date. She begged to be my plus-one. Last I saw her, she was flirting with a guy with hair bigger than his portfolio.” Pierce drops kisses over the spot he bit. “Jealous?”
“Of course not,” I say breathlessly. “But I am wondering what took you so long.”
He pulls back, a frown deepening the lines on his forehead. “For what?”
As the wind picks up, I grab both lapels of the jacket to keep it from blowing open. “Come on. I gave you the perfect opportunity to make a romantic gesture after my toast.”
His left brow rises as he looks down at me. “You took me completely by surprise. I only found out a few days ago that you broke up with that wanker. Besides,” he adds, “I waited four fucking months. You could wait a few minutes.”
“But you still haven’t kissed me,” I point out. “I’m getting tired of waiting.”
His mouth tightens as he grabs my waist again and pulls me flush against his chest, leaning to growl into my ear, “I will kiss you when I’m damn well ready, and not a moment before.”
Moisture rushes again, further south this time, while my mouth goes as dry as the Sahara.
“If I kiss you,” he continues, his breath a feather against my ear, “that’s it. You’re mine. Do you understand?”
My throat makes a tiny gasping sound as I nod.
“I need to hear you say it, Panther.”
“I’m yours.”
He nuzzles my neck in approval. “Good girl. But it’s not enough.”
I cry out as he pulls back. My only consolation is that he doesn’t go far.
“Sex isn’t enough for me,” he says, all traces of humor washed from his face. “I want all of you. Body, mind, and soul.”
I slide my hands up his chest and curl them around his neck. I knew he’d demand everything, and for the first time, I’m ready to give it. “They’re all yours. Forever.”
He doesn’t take the bait, doesn’t wrap those big hands around me, doesn’t smile. “You can’t fuck with my heart any longer, Maeve.”
Cradling his face with one hand, I tug him down to me. “I swear to you that I’m fully in. You and me, forever.”
When his lips finally capture mine, they’re cool from the night air and firm with intention.
I gasp at the contact, hardly able to believe that he’s kissing me after I thought I’d lost him forever.
He takes the parting of my lips as an invitation to dive in and claim what’s his, what’s been his all along but I was too much of a fool to recognize.
He tastes like champagne and spicy, sweet cinnamon rolls. He smells like finely aged whiskey and midnight picnics under the stars. He feels like a warm cup of tea and being curled up on the couch watching old movies.
Tears sting the back of my eyelids as I let him pull me even closer. He lifts my feet off the ground so I’m closer to his height, then groans as I swipe my tongue across his. How could I have come so close to never doing this again?
We stay like this for what feels like an eternity. When he finally sets me down, the breeze whips around us with its icy fingers, as if it’s trying to rip us apart. I gaze up at Pierce, determined to stare at his gorgeous face every chance I get.
“I love you,” he says, rubbing a thumb across my cheek. “Anything that tries to hurt you will have to get through me first.”
A burst of pleasure erupts in my heart, and for the first time, I understand why people in love are so maddening. To know there’s another person in the world who will do anything for you—it’s kind of magical.
“I love you, too,” I whisper.
Those perfect lips of his lift at the corners, gracing me with one of my favorite views of all time—Pierce St. James smirking at me. “I guess this means I won, then.”
My back stiffens, my hand freezing in place on his chest. “What are you talking about?”
He shrugs, still leaning in close, that smirk growing wider by the second. “The challenge. I won.”
Unease crawls up my spine. “No, you forfeited,” I say, dragging the words out as if he’s a preschooler, because he’s starting to sound like one.
The smirk transforms into a full-blown grin. “That depends on which challenge we’re talking about.”
My thoughts race a million miles an hour. “Explain.”
“I wanted you.” He shrugs as if he’s talking about the weather. “I did what I had to to win.”
“Are you kidding me?” I drop both hands and push away from him, needing space to clear my head.
“Don’t be mad.” He reaches for me, but I slip away.
Pressing my fingertips to my temples, I try to focus on what he’s saying.
“I knew you didn’t see me that way, so I made it my mission to change that,” he says. “Why are you mad?”
“Because—” I start, but emotion clogs my throat. “Because I didn’t even know we were playing. You didn’t give me a chance.”
“Of course I did.” A sad smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You pushed me away so many times, it’s actually a miracle I didn’t give up.”
“Why didn’t you?” I croak.
“Why do you think, Maeve? I wanted to win.”
“But you forfe—”
“Not the game. You.” He slips his hands inside the jacket I’m wearing, which smells so much like him it’s making me woozy, and holds my waist.
“Well, congratulations. You just lost me again.” I spin out of his grasp and head for the door.
“I don’t think so.” He grabs my wrist and yanks me back against him. “You said forever. You can’t just leave every time you get mad at me.” He tugs me close, his warmth seeping through our clothes and into my skin.
“Let me go,” I say, bucking against the arms pinning me against his chest.
“Absolutely not. Besides, my plan worked.”
“Your plans are shit.”
His minty breath hovers just above the shell of my ear as he murmurs, “They got me the girl of my dreams, didn’t they?” He traces the curve of it with his tongue. “We’ve always been endgame, and you know it.”
My legs are growing weak, and I’m so fucking tired of resisting him, but goddamn, the man makes me so mad. “Do you ever think of anyone besides yourself?” I snap.
“Yes,” he says, before leaning down and slipping his hand beneath my dress. “I was thinking of you, too.”
Done resisting, I let out a strangled groan as his palm travels up my thigh. “How’s that, exactly?”
“I knew the fastest way to get you wet was to fight with you.” Two fingers slip past my panties as I let out an involuntary gasp. “Looks like that plan worked too.”