Chapter 30
“I would follow you to the ends of the earth.”
Those words crash into me and echo inside my skull, over and over like my brain can’t let them go, like it’s trying to carve them into bone so I don’t wake up and realize I imagined it.
My breath catches somewhere between a laugh and a sob that I don’t even try to control anymore. Tears slip down my face, stupid and relentless, but I don’t care. Not now. Not when he’s right here, saying things like that.
Seven fucking years of wondering, of guessing, of replaying that moment in the basement like a broken fucking record and never knowing what he would’ve done if we’d had more time.
Now I know.
“You’re such an asshole,” I whisper, my voice wrecked.
There’s no other way to process the fact that he just handed me everything I’ve been trying not to want for seven years. He’s reminding me of what we lost, and I hate him for it. But he’s also telling me what we could possibly have now, and I…
Something in his expression changes, almost like a transition. I see a hint of the man Reese used to be, the one who died on that basement floor.
“I’ve never kissed a man before.”
Those words slam into me like a second impact.
My lungs fail me completely because…I know that line. I know exactly where it came from, exactly when he said it, exactly what happened right after. It’s what replays in a loop in my head every damn day.
The basement. The holding room he kept me in. Me perched on his lap.
The almost.
The interruption.
For a moment, I just stare at him because it’s all I can do as something sharp and aching twists behind my ribs. And then I laugh, actually laugh. Even though I’m still crying, the fact that he remembers those exact words too makes me feel like I’ve died and come back to life a second time.
“At least,” he adds, quieter this time, his thumb brushing my cheek, “I’ve never kissed a man and not been interrupted.”
God, please let that be true.
I won’t ask, especially not right now. Because that’s not how this goes.
“That’s tragic.”
My voice is a little lighter, something familiar finally slipping back into place. My gaze drops to his mouth for half a second before snapping back up to his eyes.
“We should fix that.”
There’s no hesitation. He moves first, or maybe I do. I don’t even know. One second there’s space between us, and the next there isn’t. His mouth crashes into mine, and…
Fuck.
It’s not gentle. It’s not careful.
It’s seven years of unfinished, of almost, of everything we didn’t get colliding all at once.
As his tongue dives inside my mouth, I make a sound into his, something helpless and wrecked. My hands fist into his shirt, and I pull him closer like I’m afraid he’ll disappear again if I don’t.
He doesn’t. He holds me, solid and real and here.
Without a single thought, I throw my arms around him and jump, legs wrapping around his waist. He catches me instantly like it’s instinct, like he was ready for it. His grip under my thighs is firm and steady as he moves forward until my back hits the rough bark of a tree.
The impact barely registers. Not when his mouth is still on mine. Not when I can feel him everywhere—his hands, his breath, the heat of him grounding me in a way nothing else has in years.
“Fuck,” I breathe when we finally break for air, my head tipping back against the tree as I drag in a shaky breath.
He doesn’t give me long to recover. His mouth drops to my jaw, then lower, teeth grazing, lips pressing against my neck. Then his teeth sink into my skin, and he sucks a mark into the column of my throat. I moan, and my cock swells inside my jeans.
“Okay,” I barely manage as my fingers tangle in his hair. “I was definitely never fucking over you.”
A low sound rumbles out of him against my throat. “Sounds to me like you never doubted it.”
He’s absolutely not going to play fair.
“I didn’t,” I admit.
His grip tightens like he’s anchoring me here, like he’ll never let me go. Even when he pulls back just enough to look at me, it feels as though his hold on me is crushing, but a welcoming kind. His gaze drags over my face like he’s committing it to memory all over again.
“I’m taking you back to the house.”
It’s not a question, and my stomach flips at the sound of his control and resolve.
I grin. “Not to the basement again, right?”
“No,” he growls, brushing his lips against mine. “To my bed.”
My cock gets even harder.
“Wow. You don’t waste time, do you?”
Only when he’s edging me out of my goddamn mind.
He shakes his head, something sad briefly passing over his eyes. “Not with you. Not anymore.”
I huff out a quiet laugh, shaking my head as I hold onto him tighter. Because damn fucking right I’m going to make him carry me.
“Yeah. Okay.”
He doesn’t even try to put me down. Instead, he locks one arm under my thighs, the other braced at my back, turns around, and starts walking like this is the most natural thing in the world. Like I weigh nothing. Like I belong here, wrapped around him.
I tighten my legs instinctively, arms looping around his shoulders as my fingers curl into the silky fabric at the back of his shirt. My lips brush the corner of his mouth because I can’t seem to stay away from it.
“Finally going to give me everything I want, Reese?”
“Everything.”
Then his mouth is on mine again, slow this time but no less intense, like he’s tasting something he hasn’t had in too long and doesn’t plan on giving it up anytime soon. And the thing is…
He doesn’t stop walking.
I blink, pulling back so I can glance around, trying to figure out how the hell he’s navigating through the woods without looking where he’s going.
The shadows.
They move ahead of him, subtle but deliberate, stretching along the ground, curling around roots and rocks and low branches. They shift and guide, parting the path like they’re clearing the way.
“You’re cheating,” I accuse softly, my breath hitching when his mouth drops back to my jaw.
“Multitasking,” he corrects.
I hum, not even pretending to argue as his lips trail lower. His hand at my back slips down, fingers hooking under the hem of my shirt.
“Take it off.”
His deep, commanding voice sends a shiver straight through me, and I don’t hesitate, not for a second. I trust him not to drop me. I trust him, period. Which is insane. And also the easiest thing I’ve ever done.
I let go of him to tug the shirt up and over my head, letting it fall somewhere behind us, lost to the woods and the moment and everything else that doesn’t fucking matter right now.
Because all that matters is him and us. Even as the cool, evening air hits my skin, it barely registers.
His mouth keeps me warm as it follows the line of my throat down to my chest.
“Fuck,” I moan, my back arching into him as his lips move across my skin, mapping me out. “You’re very focused right now.”
He hums against my chest. “I’ve had a lot of fucking time to think about all the filthy things I want to do to you.”
Then his mouth latches onto my left nipple, teeth nipping, tongue soothing. I make a lot of otherworldly noises as my dick throbs in my jeans.
“Fuck, Reese. Walk faster.”
He moves to the other nipple, and I get so lost to the sensation of his mouth on me that I have no idea how long he’s been walking.
The trees thin out, and the moon shines down enough to reveal the shape of the house.
It’s larger than I remember, though I didn’t exactly stop to take a picture on my way out.
It’s nothing flashy, a simple two-story cabin, tucked into the woods like it’s meant to disappear.
Considering it’s a safehouse for his resistance, I’m sure that’s the point.
As we approach, Reese doesn’t slow, doesn’t break stride.
“Door,” he snaps.
“What?” I blink as he licks across my chest, then realize we’re about five feet from it. “Oh.”
Right. Because he’s not letting go. At all.
He could definitely make his shadows do it, but he must be a bit too preoccupied.
I grin at the thought, extending one arm out as we reach the door, grabbing the handle and twisting, making sure he only has to slow down a little.
My back hits the solid wood as he uses me to push it open.
He carries me inside, then kicks the door closed.
The inside is dimly lit, clean but lived-in.
Dark wood, low lighting, worn furniture.
I barely register most of it because he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow.
Even as he continues licking and biting and kissing all over my chest, my throat, my collarbone, he still somehow moves through the space like he’s done it a thousand times, shadows still guiding him.
“Reese.” I half laugh, half pant. “You’re going to walk into a wall.”
“I won’t.”
Cocky and annoying and…probably accurate.
And hot.
As we pass by a decent-sized kitchen, a voice grabs my attention.
“Reese? Oh, shit. Hello.”
I turn my head to see a woman with dark brown curls and amusement sparkling in her pretty eyes standing in the kitchen beside a younger man with red hair. The position allows Reese to suck my earlobe into his mouth and bite. Hard. I yelp, and my cock jerks.
“No one fucking bother me tonight.”
He makes a turn down a hallway before I can see their reactions to his demand, but I hear their quiet chuckles follow us until they fade away.
“Are you always such an asshole?” I ask, even though I’m secretly kind of turned on by it.
Okay, probably not a secret.
“Yes.”
As he sucks on the skin of my throat again, he pushes through another door.
I only know because I feel it against my back and hear it bang against the wall behind it, my eyes closed and my head tilted to the side, giving him better access to whatever part of me he wants.
The door slams shut, his mouth releases me, and my eyes fly open to the sight of a dark bedroom.