Chapter 12 #2
I fuck her harder, rough and deep, our mouths brushing but not kissing, just groaning into each other’s breath. My balls slap wet against her, the rhythm brutal and soaked, and I feel her nails digging into my ass, pulling me in harder.
“Come with me,” I growl. “Don’t hold back.”
And she doesn’t.
Her mouth opens in a cry, her whole body shaking as she comes—tight and wet around me, pulsing hard. I let go, burying myself deep, hips jerking as I spill inside her, forehead still pressed to hers, eyes locked, breath tangled between our mouths.
It’s filthy.
We stay like that, shaking, panting, hearts pounding against each other’s chests—until the table finally creaks under us, still pressed up against the wall.
I help her straighten her clothes, my hands moving over her like I can’t stop touching her—even now. Especially now.
Her bra is back in place. Sweater pulled down. Her lips are still swollen, eyes glazed, flushed and glowing. Mine probably aren’t much better. I button my jeans but I’m not ready to let go of her just yet.
She smooths her hair, breathing a little uneven, and I lean in to kiss her again. I can’t help it. I just need to feel her. One more taste. My mouth finds hers—slow, messy, unhurried. She melts into me with a soft sound I could live in.
“Alex,” she whispers between kisses. “You’ve got to stop.”
“I can’t stop,” I say against her mouth. “You taste too good.”
She laughs, breathless, swatting lightly at my chest. “You’re impossible.”
I finally let her go, just enough to give her space to breathe. Her knees are still a little shaky when she stands, and I steady her with a hand at her waist.
“I should go back,” she says. “To my room. Before someone notices I’m gone.”
“I’ll take you,” I say immediately.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re not carrying me.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Alex—”
But I’m already bending, sweeping her up into my arms before she can argue any more. She’s light. Warm. Soft against my chest. Her arms loop around my neck on instinct.
She glares at me, but her lips twitch. “You really don’t listen, do you?”
“Not when it comes to you.”
I push open the shed door with my shoulder and step out into the cold air. The wind hits her cheeks and she burrows into my jacket, which only makes me hold her tighter.
We don’t even make it halfway across the snow-dusted path before I hear it—a burst of laughter nearby, the unmistakable murmur of voices. I feel her tense slightly.
“Mmh,” she mutters, leaning closer to my ear. “There are people staring.”
“I know.”
“They recognize me.”
“Let them.”
“Alex—”
“I don’t care,” I say, not breaking stride. “Let them talk. Let them wonder. They don’t get to know what we are. Only we do.”
She’s quiet for a second. Then she rests her head on my shoulder. “God, you’re infuriating,” she murmurs.
“And yet here you are. In my arms.”
She doesn’t argue. And I don’t slow down. Not until I’m standing in front of her door. And even then, I don’t want to let her go.
I set her down gently at her door, but I don’t step back. Her body lingers close to mine, warm even through the layers of winter fabric.
She pulls out her key card, but her fingers fumble. I take it from her hand without asking and swipe it. The door clicks open.
Inside, her suite is quiet, softly lit, the heat a welcome contrast from the bite of the wind outside. I follow her in, closing the door behind us. It feels too quiet all of a sudden. Not awkward. Just full. Heavy with everything we just did.
She limps slightly, and I catch her elbow before she can wave me off.
“You should sit,” I say.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” I say. “But you will be.”
She sinks into the edge of the bed with a quiet sigh. I stand across from her, unsure if I should sit too, or leave, or kiss her again until we both forget the outside world exists.
She speaks first.
“I used to wonder what you were like,” she says. “My dad always talked about his ‘old friend Alex’ but he never gave details. Just said you were the reason half his college stories had to be told off-record.”
I smirk despite myself. “That sounds accurate.”
“Were you trouble?” she asks, raising a brow. “Like…trouble trouble?”
“Not in the way you mean,” I say. “Your dad and I met in college. Business school. He was brilliant, but too straight-edged. I loosened him up. He made sure I didn’t get arrested.”
She laughs, curling one leg up under her. “And now look at you. An empire-building, buttoned-up Birch brother.”
“Don’t give me too much credit. Most of the buttoning-up is Marcus. I just keep us from getting sued.”
“I would’ve killed to see you two in your twenties,” she says. Then she grins. “Though…knowing what I know now…” Her voice trails off, and I catch the look she gives me—mischievous, knowing, dangerous.
“I pictured someone different,” she says, voice light, teasing.
I raise an eyebrow. “Different how?”
She shrugs, smiling. “Less…intense. Less tall. Less likely to throw a guy across the room over a snowball.”
Despite everything, I almost laugh. “I’ve mellowed.”
She hums. “Sure you have.”
We look at each other and smile.
“I’m sorry for pulling you into that mess with Jason,” I say quietly, and I really mean it. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“You would do anything for your brothers, right?” she says.
I nod.
“Same goes for Sarah and me,” she says. “I would do anything for her.”
“I know you guys have been close since high school,” I say. I’ve heard Sarah talk about Mia for hours. To be honest, I was always curious about her, but between meetings I never really got to meet her.
She sighs. “You know, Sarah was always the golden girl. Even when we were little. Everyone loved her. Teachers, coaches, boys—my parents. I spent years in her shadow. I used to hate it, but…now I just worry for her. She doesn’t see Jason for what he is.”
I nod. “You’re a better friend than most.”
“Enough about me. What about you? Did you always get along with your brothers? I can’t imagine the three of you as kids.”
I laugh. “We were maniacs. Always fighting, always protecting each other—sometimes at the same time. Marcus is the glue. He never says much, but he keeps us from burning the whole house down. Tyler…god, he was wild. Still is, even if the gray in his beard fools people. Me? I was always trying to keep up. Eldest child, chip on my shoulder, desperate to prove something.”
She grins. “And now you’re the boss.”
I roll my eyes. “Someone had to keep the company from bankruptcy. My father left a mess. I spent my twenties building something just so my brothers—and families like yours—could have a future. I never imagined I’d end up where I am. Sometimes I wake up and wonder who the hell I am.”
“My Dad really admires you,” she says honestly.
“And I admire him more.”
Then, with a grin that’s half-daring: “You know he’d kill you if he found out, right?”
The moment snaps.
I go still. “What?”
“My dad,” she says, like it’s obvious. “You and he have been friends forever. He basically raised me at this lodge—and now I’m hooking up with one of his oldest friends?” She laughs nervously. “This is a death sentence, right?”
But I’m not laughing. Not at all.
“Mia—”
Her smile falters. “It was a joke.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, I know. It’s just…not funny.”
Silence stretches between us. I stand and take a few steps, needing space. It’s like her words unlocked something I’ve been trying not to look at directly.
“I’ve known your dad since we were barely more than kids ourselves,” I say. “We’ve been through more shit together than most people survive. He’s trusted me with everything—business, family, his legacy.”
I turn to look at her. She’s sitting there, bare knees bandaged, hair tousled, lips still red from kissing me. Everything about her is soft and flushed and real—and suddenly so much younger than I let myself think about in the heat of the moment.
“I don’t regret touching you,” I say quietly. “But I regret that it might hurt someone who’s been like a brother to me.”
Her expression shifts. The teasing’s gone now. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
“I know you didn’t.” I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “But your dad…if he finds out we were together, and not just in passing—like this—he’s going to see it as betrayal.”
“I’m not a child, Alex,” she says, voice firm now. “And you’re not my dad.”
“I know,” I say again. “But he’s my friend. It feels like betrayal.” The words surprise me a little as they leave my mouth.
Mia stands slowly and walks over to me. “So what does that mean? Are you going to walk out now? Pretend none of this happened?”
I look at her. Really look. “No,” I say. “That’s the thing. I can’t pretend. That’s the problem.”
She exhales, tension draining from her shoulders, and steps into my space again.
And I let her.
Even knowing how complicated this is going to get. Even knowing what it might cost.
Right now, I just want her close.
And that means something. Maybe everything.