33. Home
Bones
I lean against Temper's desk, watching as she moves around, packing up her stuff. The office is quiet, her assistant already gone for the night. It's late, but I don't mind waiting. I like waiting for her. It means I get to take her home.
It's been over a month since we started reconnecting and it feels like I'm winning at life. Dinners, coffee, late-night rides. Another paintball match at her request. I didn't let her win this time, and she pouted like I stole her last piece of chocolate. But she recovered fast, declared she'd "get my ass" next time, and that was that.
She's been riding with me constantly, to and from work at least a few times a week. It's my favorite way to start and end the day, her body warm against mine, her arms around me. I've been lucky as fuck that the weather warmed up fast. No snow, no ice, just open roads. She can ride with me anytime she wants.
Still, something's been nagging at me.
"I just have to fucking ask..." I watch her zip up her bag and turn toward me. "Where the hell are all your employees?" I arch a brow. "I know you have at least seven, but except for your assistant, I've never seen anyone else when I come here."
She looks at me like I just asked her if the sky is blue.
"Bones...how many branding projects do you think are available in a small, isolated mountain town like Silverpine?" She shakes her head, smirking. "My work is all online. My employees work from home. They're from all over the country. We design, we're not a factory. We don't need to be physically anywhere. Just a good graphics card and enough RAM to run all the Adobe apps at the same time."
I squint at her. "I have no idea what the fuck Adobe apps are, baby."
She laughs, shaking her head. "I figured. Anyway, I got this office because I needed structure. I'd just procrastinate at home otherwise. Plus, Amy keeps my life together. She's been amazing with all the organization stuff." Her lips pull into a pout. "Too bad she's leaving in two weeks. She gave me her notice last month."
That explains a lot. I never dug deep into her business, just got the basics. Now that I hear it from her, I'm even more impressed.
"This is amazing, baby." My voice is full of pride.
She shrugs, looking around like she's seeing the office in a new light. "Yeah. It's a far cry from my past self."
I push off the desk and step closer, brushing my knuckles along the side of her face. Her breath stills, her eyes locking onto mine.
"I still see Ely sometimes, you know," I murmur, my voice low. "Right there, behind your eyes."
She doesn't pull away. Just keeps watching me. So I go on.
"You're not the same person you were years ago, sure. But that's okay, Temper. Neither am I. Time and life come for us all. That doesn't mean we don't carry parts of our past selves with us. It doesn't mean we leave them behind for good. Ely was hopeful. Maybe a little too trusting, but always determined. And parts of her — the best ones — are still in you. Her hope, her heart. I wouldn't be standing here beside you right now if they weren't."
Her lips part, her breath catching. I don't stop.
"And if I loved Ely, you should know that I fucking adore Temper." My fingers slide to her jaw, my thumb ghosting over her cheek. "It still feels too little. Adoration. It's not enough of a word to describe what I actually feel for you. This strong woman with sharp edges and soft corners that's standing in front of me right now. Saying you changed is an understatement. You didn't just change — you evolved. Into your true self. A goddess who will declare war on life if it dares to provoke her again."
Her eyes are wide, lips slightly parted. Then, just like that, the astonishment disappears, replaced with a challenge.
"That's some deep shit," she says, voice dry but teasing. "How the hell did you get this good with words? I mean, you were good before, but this is next level. Are you staying up at night, studying or something?"
I chuckle, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a quick hug. "I did manage to do some evolving of my own these past years, my fiery Temper."
She smiles against my chest, her arms slipping around me. And fuck, if that doesn't feel like the best thing in the world.
I let her go, stepping back reluctantly. My arms feel empty without her.
Her smile softens, something shifting in her expression — tender, uncertain, but open in a way I haven't seen before. She takes a slow, steady breath and then moves closer. Close. So fucking close. My pulse kicks up, a hard slam against my ribs as she stops just inches from me, her gaze locked on mine. Searching. Deciding.
And then she makes her move.
Her hands slide up my chest, fingers curling into my cut as she rises onto her toes, pressing her lips softly against mine.
I freeze. My entire body locks up, too stunned to react for a second. I don't fucking breathe. Don't even blink. But she's right here, her lips warm and tentative against mine, cautious in a way that makes my heart fucking ache. She's testing herself, testing this.
My eyes close, and the moment I catch up, I'm fucking gone.
I sink into the kiss, letting her set the pace, letting her take from me what she wants. She tastes like heaven. Like salvation. Like something I would have waited lifetimes for.
A soft sigh escapes her, and she leans into me, her body molding against mine like she belongs here. My arms move on instinct — one around her waist, pulling her in, the other slipping up to cup her face. She tilts her head slightly, deepening the kiss, and fuck, I'm done for.
Her hands slip into my hair, gripping lightly, her breath mixing with mine, ragged and unsteady. Years of longing, of yearning, of waiting for this pour into the way I kiss her back. I taste the memories, the pain, the fire of everything that's ever been between us, and I don't know where I end and she begins.
I groan low in my throat when her lips part for me, inviting me in. My thumb strokes along her jaw, feeling her tremble, her fingers tightening in my hair. She presses closer, like she needs this as badly as I do. Like she's starving for it.
I could lose myself right here. Could stay wrapped in this moment for eternity.
She's the one who finally pulls back, her breaths shallow.
Her eyes flutter open, dazed and dark. She stares up at me, lips slightly swollen, her fingers still tangled in my hair.
"...Wow," she whispers. It's breathless. Soft. Almost like she doesn't believe it happened.
I can't fucking speak. Can't move. My entire brain is fried, my world reduced to nothing but her.
She slowly steps back, grabs her bag off the chair like she didn't just wreck me, and turns toward the door.
I'm still standing there, still stuck, still processing, when she suddenly snaps her fingers in my face, smirking. "Let's go, Bones! Stop dreaming!"
I blink.
The fuck just happened?
She laughs, turning on her heel and walking ahead, and I — helplessly, inevitably — follow. With the dumbest fucking grin on my face.
Of course I follow.
I'll always follow her.
Temper
I sink deeper into my couch, legs folded under me, wine glass in hand, feeling real fucking good. A little tipsy. Maybe a little more than tipsy. Okay, fine — drunk. But it's girls' night, and I deserve it.
Ria's beside me, her own glass nearly empty as we work our way through the second bottle. It's been almost a week since we last saw each other, and that's just unacceptable. But if I'm being completely honest, it's my fault. I can't seem to stop wanting to spend time with Bones. It's insane. Irritating. Like my body and mind conspired against me without my consent. I keep checking myself, making sure no ghosts of the past creep in when I'm with him, and the bastard is so far past the "maybe a bad memory will spring out of nowhere" line.
No. He's at the "makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside all the fucking time" line.
It only took him three months.
And ever since I kissed him? I can't fucking stop. Neither can he. My hormones have been throwing a goddamn revolution every time he's around. It's ridiculous.
But I've been playing it cool. Making him sweat. Wait. Because I'm a lady and don't give in so easily.
Or maybe, just maybe, I'm a little jealous about the women who came after me. Hypocritical? Absolutely. But when the hell has jealousy ever been rational?
I sigh dramatically, tilting my head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling like it holds all the answers to my life's problems.
"Ria," I mumble, swirling the wine in my glass, "I think...I think I can see a future with Bones." I pause, frowning. "It's like this tiny speck of light at the end of a long, dark, fucked up tunnel, but it's there." I sigh again, deeper this time. "How the hell did he do it? I mean, I chose to give this a shot, sure. But I didn't..."— I hiccup —"...didn't fucking expect things and feelings to happen this soon!" I throw my free hand up in frustration, nearly sloshing red wine onto my couch. I freeze, staring at the potential stain, my lower lip wobbling. That's permanent, isn't it?
When I turn to Ria, she's staring at me like I just confessed to murder. But she recovers fast, because of course she does.
She sips what little wine is left in her glass, watching me with those too-perceptive eyes over the rim. "So..." she hums, dragging out the word. "Is the sex as good as you remember it?"
I choke. Cough. Gasp. My voice comes out meek — which never happens. "Umm...we haven't done it yet. I've been waiting..."
Silence. Then chaos.
Ria howls with laughter, nearly dropping her glass as she slaps the couch. "For what?" she wheezes. "Is this another form of revenge? Waiting for cobwebs to grow down there and then sending him in for a cleanup job?"
I'm laughing now too, shaking my head as I throw a pillow at her. "You are fucking terrible!"
It takes us minutes to settle, both of us wiping tears from our eyes.
Then her face gets serious.
"Tempe," she says, softer now. "Do you want to have sex with him?" She holds up a hand before I can answer. "Because if you do, then that's okay. You don't have to keep waiting if you don't want to. And if you do want to wait? That's also okay. Biker boy is so far gone for you he'd probably die a born-again virgin if it meant he could stay in your orbit." She squints at me. "It's pathetic, really. I've never seen a man so in love. Ever."
I groan, rubbing my face. "He is extra, I have to admit that."
"This isn't extra," Ria corrects. "This is full-blown obsession. And unfortunately for you? You're the one he's obsessed with." She tilts her head, studying me. "Or fortunately? Depends on what you want."
I stare at my half-full glass, feeling the warmth of the wine dancing through my veins.
What do I want?
...Shit.
I might be too drunk for that answer.
This is it. This is fucking it. I've been wanting to climb him like a tree for over a month now, but I just wanted to be sure-sure. And I am. I fucking am. The conversation I had with Ria makes me smile even now, while walking toward my door with Bones by my side.
"Why are you smiling?" He suddenly asks me, amused.
I jump a little. Busted! "Nothing!" I turn to him right in front of my door. "Would you like to come in for a drink?"
He narrows his eyes at me, comes closer, trapping me between the door and his body. I have to look up at him. He leans toward me, his hand on the door, beside my head.
"What are you really asking me, baby?" His voice is almost a growl.
How the hell did he read me so fast? Is he a fucking mind reader? Well, it's now or never. I'm going all in!
"I'm asking you to stay the night , Bones." My voice is breathless.
I expect him to pounce on me, but I'm surprised when he doesn't.
Instead, his hand finds my face, his fingers brushing my skin lightly. Like he's giving me one last chance to pull away. Like this moment is something fragile that will shatter if he moves too fast. But I don't pull away. I lean in. Because I know what I want.
His breath is warm against my lips, uneven. The tension between us is so thick, so heavy, it feels like a force of nature is pulling us together, swallowing everything else.
"Temper," he whispers, his forehead pressing against mine for just a second, like he needs the moment to steady himself.
And then he kisses me.
It's slow at first, like he's trying to capture this moment for eternity. But I don't want slow. I want him, all of him, the way he always was with me — unrelenting, intense, mine. So I push closer, my fingers in his hair, my body pressing into his, my lips parting as a quiet sound escapes me. That's all it takes for him to snap.
His lips crash into mine with the kind of hunger that makes my knees weak, makes my head spin. He kisses me like he's been dying all this time and I'm the only thing that can save him. His tongue sweeps against mine, deep, claiming, and fuck, I feel it every-fucking-where. My hands clutch his cut, dragging him impossibly closer.
It's messy, raw, a craving like no other. It's been building inside us for a long time.
He groans into my mouth, a sound that shoots straight through me, that makes my entire body ache. One of his hands slides down my back, gripping my waist, pressing me harder against him. There's no space between us now, just heat and desire, relentless and frantic.
This feels like home.
"Keys, baby, keys!" He growls against my mouth.
I shove them into his hand. The next moment, I'm right over his shoulder, the world tilting upside down.
"Bones, what the fuck!" I yell, but it's filled with laughter.
He doesn't answer, just growls again while fiddling with the keys. It doesn't take him long. Before I know it, he's going up the stairs to my bedroom, taking two steps at a time.
"I swear to everything that's holy, if you drop me, I'll destroy you!"
Another growl. Dammit, he's gone. Completely gone!
He drops me onto the bed, and before I can even catch my breath, I'm naked. Without even lifting a finger. And the bastard? Still fully clothed!
"You better lose your fucking clothes just as fast, Bones!" I glare at him.
He smirks at me, fire burning in his eyes. Unbuttons his jeans slowly. "How fast, baby?"
Oh, he wants to play!
"Now you're slowing down?" I launch myself at him, arms winding around his neck, pulling him down with me. His hand pinches one of my nipples suddenly and it takes me by surprise so fast that I moan in his mouth. But I don't forget my mission.
I yank his clothes off, and thank fuck he cooperates quickly — because if he didn't, I'd lose my damn mind. The need for him is clawing at me, burning through every inch of my skin. Our lips don't break, don't hesitate. Hands roam, desperate, hungry, memorizing and claiming all at once.
He's biting, kissing, and it's overwhelming. It's intoxicating. It's driving me mad.
My hands travel over his bare back, feeling the muscles flex beneath my fingertips, remembering every inch of this man who's haunted me for years.
He trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, over my collarbone, across my chest. His hands grip my thighs, spreading me open beneath him, and a shiver runs through me. He's so big, so overwhelming, I feel like he's about to consume my entire soul. I welcome it.
He groans, pressing his forehead against my stomach for a moment, like he's trying to hold himself together. I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging lightly until he looks up at me. His eyes — fuck, those eyes — are burning with something so intense, so raw, that it makes my breath hitch.
"You're mine, Temper." His voice is hoarse, almost pained.
I smile. "So possessive."
A sound leaves him — half growl, half exhale — and then he's kissing me again, staking his claim with every touch, every move. I feel it through my veins, in my blood. This isn't just sex. This is a reckoning. A homecoming.
And I don't want it to ever end.
He gently nudges my legs further apart, spreading me so much more. I am completely at his mercy. Open to him, bared of all of my secrets. The desire is growing inside me by the second, there's an uncontrollable fire raging under my skin. I want, I need him. Now! And...he's smirking at me from above. Doing nothing all of a sudden. This asshole!
"What do you need, baby?" His voice is a breathless whisper. His fingers trail my body in a barely there touch. He gently tugs on one of my nipples and I almost explode, but he moves too fast. Between my breasts, over my stomach, lower, lower. Anticipation builds like a tornado until the tip of his fingers brush over my clit. Just a brush that makes an impatient noise escape my lips.
"Bones...stop playing," I whine. Because apparently that's what I do now. I whine. For cock. What is he doing to me?
"I like playing with you, baby," he whispers.
"I bet you also like living. You won't be doing much of that if you don't get inside me. Now!" I growl.
He lets out a low chuckle, but it lasts only a second before his expression shifts — his eyes darken, turning molten with intent. Then his thumb presses down on my clit, firm and unrelenting, and pleasure slams through me. My back arches instantly, my eyes fluttering shut as bliss takes over.
"Look at me, Temper. You don't take your eyes off me." It's a command I cannot ignore. My eyes snap open and it's like looking at a wild animal. Feral. He's playing with me but he's barely holding himself together, too.
He shifts his hand, his thumb staying firm on my clit, and that tiny movement sends shockwaves through every inch of me. Two fingers slide into me and a moan spills from my lips, shameless and wrecked.
"Fuck, baby." His voice is rough, filled with tension. He leans over me, his thumb tracing lazy circles over my clit, teasing, tormenting. Then his fingers move inside me — slow, careful, relentless.
His lips crash against mine again, stealing my breath. He moves down my neck, across my shoulder, before his teeth sink in just enough to sting. A sharp bite. Oh, I missed that bite of his so much.
Ripples of pleasure are trying to escape my body, but there's no release. Not yet. I suck in a shuddering breath, in anticipation. He leans back and his other hand goes to my nipples. Pinching. Twisting. Torturing me with a myriad of sensations.
I can't take it anymore. He's already brought me to a point that I would do anything for just a little bit of release. Just that thought almost makes me whine again, like a wounded fucking animal. Because I need more. And by the cocky smirk on his face, he knows it.
"First, you come on my face, baby. Then, on my cock." His command sends a jolt of lightning through me.
He lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, his grip firm on my thigh, grounding me even as my body trembles. His fingers never leave me, never falter, keeping up their delicious rhythm. And then I feel it — his breath, hot and teasing, right where I need him most. Scorching. Devouring. A shiver rips through me, every nerve tightening in anticipation. And he's still looking at me, his gaze locked onto mine, darker than ever. That look alone could undo me.
The first lick is slow, reverent. I feel his growl going everywhere inside me. He takes his time bringing me to the edge of my sanity. My pussy walls feel hungry, contracting around his thick fingers. Wanting more. Wanting all of him. I feel the sheets under me getting soaked. I'm lost in ecstasy.
I grip his hair, I squirm, trying to make him go faster. He slaps my thigh hard, his voice an animalistic growl when he speaks.
"Patience, baby." Such an asshole! And I can't even form the words to tell him exactly that anymore.
He continues my slow descent into madness. Going faster and then slowing down when he feels me right at the edge. I'm going to explode, I can't take it anymore.
And as if that wasn't enough, his magical fingers descend on my breasts. Pinching, tugging, twisting, while his mouth licks and sucks. I feel the tip of his tongue flicking faster. He adds another finger inside of me, fucking me like he's trying to ruin me for any other man. But he doesn't realize he already did that, years ago. It's only with him I felt this insanity. It's only with him I felt this lost to the world. It's only with him I've felt this connection.
I try to keep my eyes on him, but it's so fucking hard when all my body wants to do is arch and writhe and close my eyes in pure, pleasurable agony. He looks at me darkly while still sucking and flicking my clit with his tongue. He wants to see me completely unravel. A sharp, icy sensation travels my body. His fingers keep moving, the fire grows to impossible heights. Tension takes over my every muscle. I can't breathe or I'm breathing too hard. I don't even know anymore.
And then - one final flick of his tongue, one tug on my nipple and I explode into a billion pieces, my body shaking uncontrollably. I can't keep my eyes on him anymore, I have no control. I shake and I tremble. And he doesn't stop. But his movements get slower. More gentle. He's going to kill me... through fucking. I just know it. This is just a warning. This is his own revenge.
It's three orgasms later that he finally pulls away from between my legs. I'm a complete fucking mess and I don't even know what planet I live on anymore.
He doesn't give me the time to come back to myself completely. His body covers mine, caging me, and I feel his cock nudging at my entrance. I circle my arms around his neck and press my heels into his ass, needing more. Needing the whole of him.
He kisses me slowly, savoring the moment, and when he finally sinks into me, his breath hitches, his body locks up for a second. He starts moving—
And then it's over.
So fast I barely process it.
He stiffens, a guttural curse slipping past his lips, and then he presses his forehead to my shoulder, his entire body trembling.
For a second, I don't react. I blink up at the ceiling, my mind catching up to what just happened. Or... what didn't happen.
"Oh," I murmur, stunned.
His arms tighten around me, his breath still heavy against my skin. "Don't say a fucking word, Temper," he growls, his voice a mix of frustration and amusement.
I bite my lip, trying — really trying — not to laugh. "I mean... I wasn't going to say anything."
He pulls back, glaring down at me, but it's clear he can barely keep his laughter in. "Liar."
I smirk. "It's just... it's been a while, huh?"
His jaw tics. "Five years, two months, and about ten days, give or take a few."
That knocks the smirk right off my face.
I stare up at him, my chest tightening. "You—"
His lips cover mine before I can finish, his body shifting over mine again, pressing me into the mattress. "Be patient, baby," he murmurs, his voice thick, rough. "I'm just getting started."
And he is. I can already feel him hardening inside me again.
He rises to his knees, pulling me up with him like I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around him instinctively, locking us together.
His hands grip my ass, strong and possessive, and he starts guiding my movements, slow at first, measured, agonising. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, swallowed by my mouth. Fuck, he feels too good. Too perfect. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging hard as I throw my head back. His lips chase me, finding my throat, my collarbone, my shoulder, my breasts. He kisses, licks and bites every inch of my skin.
And then his control starts to slip.
His rhythm quickens, his thrusts become deeper, rougher, faster, hitting that devastating spot inside me with ruthless precision. Pleasure licks up my spine, winding tighter, burning hotter. He keeps me like this for what feels like forever, playing with me, dragging me to the edge only to pull me back. My entire being is hanging by a fraying thread, my body on the verge of breaking, when I feel it — his muscles tightening, twitching, coiling. He's losing his grip.
And then he finally snaps. Fully.
I barely register the movement before I'm on my back, both legs thrown over one of his shoulders, his body caging mine, almost folding me in half. I feel him everywhere inside me. Filling me completely. My nails dig into his shoulders, leaving marks, drawing blood. My eyes roll back, pleasure so intense it borders on pain. His hand moves to my neck, squeezing just enough to make my pulse hammer wildly beneath his fingers. To demand my attention.
"Eyes on me, baby." His growl is feral.
My gaze snaps to his and I'm gone. Completely fucking gone. I shatter around him, my body locking tight before trembling violently, pleasure overtaking every nerve, every thought, every ounce of reality.
But he doesn't stop.
He keeps going, dragging me through the madness, pushing me higher, deeper into oblivion. The pleasure is too much, too sharp, too overwhelming. I can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but take it. Take him. Everything he's giving.
It's an eternity of continuous torture later that I feel his body tense, his breathing become ragged. Right before he spills inside me, he leans back, grips my thighs, spreads my legs, and his fingers find my clit. He circles, flicks, works me with ruthless efficiency, and I spiral again.
I don't just come — I fucking detonate.
My body is weightless, boneless, shattered into nothing but sensation. I can't hear, can't see, I can only scream his name like a desperate prayer.
When he finally collapses, his chest heaving, his arms wrap around me, dragging me over him, holding me close. Like he never wants to let go.
"Bones?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"Have mercy. For tonight. Let's just...sleep now." My voice is a whisper. I'm dead.
His chest trembles on a chuckle. "Ok, baby. Sleep."
I try to get off him. Sloppily, because I can't really fucking move, but he grips me tighter.
"You're not moving, Temper." His voice is dark, leaves no room for arguing. "You're sleeping exactly like this."
"You're still inside—"
"Yeah, I know. And that's exactly where I'm staying." He kisses the top of my head. "Sleep, baby."
"But—," I don't get to finish. I yawn about three times in a row and that's the end of my night.