Chapter 41
GEMMA
He was right about the weather.
What started at a light mist on our way to the Mill and progressed into a steady drizzle while we were there, has shifted into a steadily growing downpour, the angry, insistent drum of it against the roof of my car, making conversation impossible.
Not that Riggs has said a word to me.
He’s been staring out the window, watching the scenery of dark shapes and wet shadows slip by, his shoulders stiff.
Mouth set in a thin, grim line, since we got in the car and started heading for home.
Rather than push him into a conversation he obviously doesn’t want to have, I let him sulk while I worry about what might’ve happened while I was upstairs.
Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been too bad.
When it was time to go home, I came downstairs to find Riggs where I left him while Colt was pulling on his jacket next to the front door, Cade and Jensen having a quiet conversation a few feet away.
No one was bleeding. Nothing was broken.
Colt didn’t have to use his handcuffs to restrain anyone.
“Ready to go?” I asked, nervously reaching for his walker to set it up for him while Riggs went about the business of waking up his legs and telling them to move.
Fifteen minutes later, I had my car pulled up to the ramp Tank installed for Dent while they were both alive, nervously watching while Riggs made his way closer, one shuffling step at a time.
Even though I wanted to get out of the car and help him, I knew better.
Colt and Cade were standing on the porch behind him, pretending to talk while they watched him.
If I’d have rushed up the ramp to help Riggs into the car, any progress we might have made today would’ve been lost. So I didn’t help.
I waited in my car anxiously for a rain soaked Riggs to finally make his way into the passenger seat, his only concession being that he folded up his walker and shoved it into the backseat, rather than risk fighting with the trunk.
Get real. You didn’t let Riggs walk to the car on his own to save his pride. You did it because you knew that if you hovered and fussed over him in front of men he’s historically despised, you’d more than likely ruin any chance you have at Riggs kissing you again.
I’ve been thinking about it since it happened. Even while I was talking and laughing with Sloane and embroiled in a deep conversation about astrology with River, I was thinking about it, the same thought playing in my mind, over and over.
Riggs kissed me.
You’re just chock full of delusion tonight, aren’t you? Riggs didn’t kiss you because he wants you, Gemma Rae. He kissed you for the same reasons he’s always kissed you—because he doesn’t want anyone else to kiss you either.
Frustrated and embarrassed that I fell for it again so easily—because I’ve been spending the last three hours fantasizing about that stupid kiss and agonizing over what it means—I focused on doing my job.
Getting him inside. Getting him settled, so I could go upstairs and crawl into my bed for a good, long cry.
Seriously? You’re about ready to lose your home, Gemma. The only home that’s ever mattered to you—you’ve got bigger things to cry about that Riggs Wheeler.
By the time we pull into the driveway, the skies have opened up and started dumping water by the bucket.
Cutting the engine, I look at him across the dark interior of the car.
His side of the car is less than three feet from the covered wheelchair ramp but what would’ve taken him less than a few seconds a year ago will take him exponentially longer now that he has to fight his legs for every inch.
He’ll be soaked through by the time we make it inside.
We both will. “Let’s wait it out for a few minutes and see?—”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re going to lose this place?”
I stare at him, slack-jawed for a few seconds like I don’t understand—but then I do. “Cade told you. That’s what you were talking about on the deck today.”
Instead of answering me, Riggs shakes his head. “At first I was mad—I was fucking livid because why the hell wouldn’t you tell me something like that? Why wouldn’t you ask me for help—but then I remembered who you are. What I did?—”
Face falling into a frown, I shake my head. “Riggs?—”
“That stubborn streak of yours is only rivaled by your pride,” he tells me like it’s something I don’t already know.
“But then I also remembered that I’ve been a miserable shit to you, almost every day since I came back, so why would you?
Why would you trust me? Why would you ask me for help when I’ve never given you a reason to believe that you could?
” His lips twist in a wistful smile that nearly breaks my heart.
“The one thing I know about you for sure Gem, is that you’d rather drown mad than drown disappointed and that’s all I’ve ever been to you—a disappointment. ”
Wounded for some stupid reason, I stare at him like he just slapped me in the face. “That’s not true,” I tell him, my denial coupled with an emphatic head shake. “You’ve never disappointed me, Riggs. Not once.”
The corner of his mouth lifts and the look he gives me is almost painful. “Liar.”
Before I can say anything else, Riggs opens his door and begins the process of unfolding his massive frame from the front seat of my car.
Shit.
Throwing my own car door open, I jump out, barely taking the time to slam it closed before I’m rushing around the front of it.
As predicted, I’m soaked through in a matter of seconds and by the time I get to Riggs on the other side of the car, so is he.
When I start to make my way around him so I can retrieve his walker, he grabs my arm.
“Leave it,” he orders me, tone raised above the weather. “Just get inside, Gem. I got this.”
Calling it a compromise, I leave his walker where it is but I don’t hurry inside.
Instead, I follow along beside him slowly, almost painfully so, while rain dumps from the sky by the bucket, water deep enough to drown in if we were stupid enough to look up.
Swiping at the water streaming down my face, I stubbornly and methodically follow Riggs to the ramp.
Matching him step for step, I let out a barely audible sigh of relief when we make it to the ramp, hands cranked into frustrated fists to keep myself from reaching out to help.
“Go inside, Gem.” Riggs says it again, his tone full of the same sort of frustration while he grudgingly lifts a hand, pressing it against the exterior wall of the house to steady himself. “I’ve got this. Just?—”
“I don’t know how many goddamn times I have to say it, Riggs Wheeler—” I bark up at him while we both keep shuffling forward. “The VA is paying me to take care of you, so just shut up and let me do my damn job.”
“I’m nearly a foot and a half taller and outweigh you by at least a hundred and fifty pounds,” he says like I might not have noticed. “The only thing you’re gonna do if I go down is get hurt.”
“Well, you better not go down then,” I snap, worry over the very real possibility tightening my tone.
Instead of barking back, Riggs laughs. “Yes, ma’am.”
Since it’s not the response I was expecting, I don’t have a ready reply.
Following him silently up the ramp and across the porch, it isn’t until the last few steps that I break away and rush forward.
Flinging the front door open, I stand here, dripping a puddle on the floor, holding my breath, while he takes those last few steps alone.
It isn’t until we’re both inside and I’ve got the door shut that I allow myself to breathe.
“Wait here,” I say while I start to move from the foyer, into the living room.
“Let me go get your chair, so you don’t slip on the hardwood and break your neck.
” Hurrying forward without checking to see if he’ll comply, I’m not at all surprised when I come back with his chair, a few minutes later, to find him already halfway across the living room. “Goddamnit, Riggs, get in the chair.”
“I’m in the home stretch, Gem.” He shoots me a crooked grin while water drips from his soaking wet hair and plasters his shirt against his ridiculously well-muscled chest, the flex and twist of it sending a fluttering shiver down my spine. “You can’t expect me to give up now.”
Really, Gemma Rae? This man is steps away from collapse and if that happens you can kiss whatever faint, distant hope you have of saving this place, goodbye—and you’re turned on, right now?
“A girl can dream.” Abandoning his chair in the living room on an aggravated sigh, I follow Riggs the last few steps into the sunroom.
Reading his intentions, I rush ahead of him again, this time pushing the bathroom door open for him so he can make his way inside.
As soon as he’s across the threshold, I follow after him. “I’ll start the shower so you can?—”
Reaching for me as I make my way toward the walk-in shower, Riggs stops me mid-stride.
Hand wrapped around my bicep, he pulls me toward him and turns me before dropping both hands to my hips.
Before I know what’s happening, my wet leggings are gone and I’m being lifted, my backside hitting the bathroom counter with an audibly wet smack.
Before I can ask him what he’s doing, Riggs reaches up and back to snag the neck of his drenched T-shirt.
“It’s awful quiet.” Dragging it up and over his head, he discards it, dropping it on the floor before stepping into me.
“We’ve been here a full fifteen minutes now and your cat hasn’t called me a bitch once. ”
“Janet’s…” Gaze nailed to his ridiculously chiseled chest, I feel myself go dizzy.
The world around me start to spin. Looking up at him, my throat goes dry when his huge, callused hands wrap themselves around the tops of my thighs.
“She’s hiding. She doesn’t like storms. I probably won’t see her until—” Pulling my legs apart, Riggs steps into the juncture of them.
He looks down at me, his dark gaze tracing over my features like he’s seeing me for the very first time.
Like I’m some new and exotic creature he can’t put a name to.
I’ve seen that look before.
Head cranked back on my neck so I can see his face, I expect to see what I always see when he gets too close. When he starts to break. Starts to give in and allow himself to want me. Panic. Self-loathing.
That’s not the Riggs I see.
The man in front of me isn’t panicked.
He’s hungry.
“Riggs…” Eyes locked on his, that shiver I felt earlier blooms, warm and heavy, when rough fingertips push themselves under the hem of my soaking wet t-shirt to brush against bare skin. “What are you doing?”
He gives me that lopsided grin again. The one that stops my heart and weakens my knees.
“I’m getting you naked, Gem.” As if to prove it, Riggs lifts the hem of my shirt and I raise my arms without thinking, letting him lift and discard my shirt like he did his own.
“At least I’m gonna try to.” He gives me one of those devastating grins again while he works the front clasp of my bra.
“Honestly, I’m not sure I’m gonna get very far.
” As soon as it’s loose, Riggs pushes the straps off my shoulders, baring me completely, leaving me in nothing but a soaked pair of panties.
“I don’t think…” Breath going shallow in my chest, I gasp softly when I feel the brush of my aching nipples against his bare chest as he moves even closer.
Hands planted on the counter, on either sides of my hips, Riggs leans into me, the rigid length of his cock stealing my breath.
“It’s late.” I try to reason with myself.
Try to be sensible but I’m surrounded, the feel of him leaching into every pore.
Making me dizzy. Stealing every thought and want that isn’t tied to this moment. “Maybe we should?—”
“I’m fine.” As if to prove it, Riggs grinds the base of his cock into the juncture of my thighs, the tip of rubbing against my stomach, several inches north of my bellybutton.
“I’ve got just enough left in the tank to make you come, Gem—if that’s what you want.
” He rocks his hips again, the feel of him pushing a sharp, shuddering gasp from my mouth.
Tightens my engorged nipples to the point of pain, every brush of them against his chest torture.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I let my head fall back on my neck when I feel his teeth scraping along my jawline. “Riggs…”
He groans in response, mouth skimming along the taut line of my throat, on its way to my ear. “Is that what you want, Gem?” he whispers, the warm breath of it against my neck. “Do you want to come for me?”
Do I want Riggs to make me come?
I’m nodding my head yes before he can even finish the question and lifting my arms to wind them around his neck so he can’t get away.
Widening the juncture of my thighs, I shift my hips against the rock hard bulge pressed against my throbbing pussy.
“Yes...” Finally answering him with words, I wrap my legs around his hips on a moan. “Yes, please.”
“Fuuuck…” Groaning it against my throat, Riggs flexes his hips against mine, working the length of his stiff shaft against my core.
Grinding the base of himself against my clit, he lifts his arms, wrapping one around my waist to hold me in place while he fucks me through our clothes, the other pushes its hand into my hair.
Wrapping his fingers around the wet strands of it, Riggs pulls, cranking my head back even further, the sting of it sending tiny fissures of need streaking down my spine.
“Open your eyes…” Riggs demands, his mouth brushing against mine with every relentless pump of his cock.
“Look at me.” Another demand, this one delivered on a rough nip of his teeth against my lower lip, the sharp stitch of it a downward spiral that presses, hot and heavy, against the base of my spine.
“Oh—” Another moan, this one pulling my eyes open to find him looking down at me, his dark gaze flattened out by lust. “Riggs…”
“Fuck—” He groans it, eyes locked on mine while his hips roll and pump against my quivering pussy.
“There she is… there’s my Gem… still so fucking pretty…
” Riggs sweeps his tongue past my lips, the relentless fuck of it timed perfectly with the thrust and flex of his cock against my quivering pussy.
Oh my god…
Nails digging into the back of his neck, I scramble for purchase while everything inside me tightens, a split second before those fissures pounded into my core shatter into a million pieces.