Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Britta
Swift’s room wasn’t much.
A bed. A dresser. A TV that looked like it had seen better days.
That was it.
But the second the door shut behind us, it didn’t feel small.
It felt… ours. Private.
Separate from the chaos outside that door. From everything.
My back hit the mattress, and Swift was over me before I could even catch my breath, his weight settling in a way that felt grounding instead of overwhelming. Our clothes were gone, and then it was just us.
His hand found mine, pinning it gently beside my head as his mouth moved over mine, slow at first, like he was reminding himself to take his time. Like he didn’t want to rush this.
But that didn’t last long. It never did with us.
“Swift,” I breathed against his lips.
He answered by kissing me deeper, his other hand sliding along my side, over my hip, pulling me closer like there wasn’t close enough.
Like he needed more.
Always more.
My fingers curled into his shoulders as I arched into him, every nerve ending already awake, already reaching for him before he even gave me anything.
“Easy,” he murmured, though there was nothing easy about the way his voice sounded.
My laugh came out shaky. “You’re the one who started this,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he said, brushing his nose against mine. “And I’m not stopping.”
Good. Because I didn’t want him to.
Not even a little.
His hand slid lower, slow and deliberate, like he knew exactly what it was doing to me. Every touch dragged out, every movement intentional, until my breath hitched and my grip on him tightened.
“Swift,” I warned softly.
He didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow.
“Get there,” he said under his breath.
My body reacted before my brain could catch up, tightening around him, chasing that edge I could feel building, climbing, getting closer with every second.
I bit down on my lip, trying, failing, to stay quiet.
The whole club was just down the hall.
Anyone could hear. That should’ve mattered.
It didn’t.
Not with him.
Not like this.
“Swift—” I gasped, the sound slipping out before I could stop it, my hand flying up to cover my mouth.
He huffed a quiet, almost amused breath against my neck. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Just like that.”
Everything inside me pulled tighter, higher, sharper, and then it snapped.
I shattered against him, the world narrowing down to nothing but him, his name caught in my throat, my body trembling as the feeling rolled through me.
He followed right after, his head dropping briefly against my shoulder, his breath rough, uneven. For a second, neither of us moved. Just… breathed.
Felt it.
Then he shifted, easing down beside me, pulling me with him without even thinking about it, like it was instinct now. Like I belonged there, tucked against his side.
My head rested on his chest, and his arm wrapped around me, fingers absentmindedly brushing up and down my arm in slow, steady strokes.
It wasn’t rushed anymore.
Wasn’t desperate.
Solid.
I exhaled, sinking into him, my body still humming from everything that had just happened. “Do you think anyone heard us?” I asked, my voice soft, almost teasing.
He didn’t hesitate. “No.”
I tilted my head slightly, looking up at him.
He didn’t look down.
Didn’t even try to sell it.
I smiled. “You’re lying.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Maybe,” he admitted.
I shook my head, letting it go, settling back against him.
Outside the room, I could hear faint movement.
Voices.
Life.
But in here, it felt distant. Muted. Like none of it could touch us. For a few minutes, we didn’t say anything. Just lay there, breathing.
And then, “What’s going to happen?” I asked quietly.
It slipped out before I could stop it.
Not panicked.
Not scared.
Just… honest.
His arm tightened around me instantly. Not enough to hurt but just enough to anchor me. “I don’t know, sugar,” he said.
I waited.
Because I knew there was more. There always was with him.
“But I know one thing,” he added.
I lifted my head again, meeting his eyes.
“Nothing bad is going to happen to you,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’ll die before that happens.”
Something in my chest tightened. Not fear. Not doubt. Something else. Something heavier. I didn’t argue with him. Didn’t tell him not to say things like that because I knew he meant it.
Every word.
I rested my head back against him, my fingers curling lightly against his chest. “Okay,” I said softly. And I meant that, too.
We didn’t need to say anything else.
Not about what this was. Not about what we were becoming. It was already there.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
Real.
His hand moved slowly through my hair, the steady motion pulling me down, easing the last of the tension out of my body.
My eyes grew heavy. Everything was finally catching up to me, and I shifted closer, tucking myself into him as much as I could. He adjusted without a word, like he was already used to it. Like this was already routine.
“Get some sleep, sugar,” he murmured.
I smiled faintly against his chest. “Bossy,” I whispered.
“Always,” he replied.
I let my eyes close, and for the first time in what felt like forever, with everything still hanging over us, I actually felt… safe.