Chapter Eighteen #2
Cupping my face, his thumb presses against my bottom lip. His head comes up and his eye flashes like he’s about to receive his prize. “He kissed you here, didn’t he? Shall I taste you and find out?”
His tongue flicks out for a moment before he drags it over my lip, making me whimper.
My mouth slips open in a gasp, giving him the access he’s after.
He sips at my lips like the finest champagne before sliding his tongue inside my mouth, seeking the source.
What starts soft and sensual quickly turns heated as he shows me how all-consuming a kiss can be.
I forget about everything but him and me in this moment.
He has me warm and pliable in his hands, like clay ready to mold and shape, when the shrill ring of the phone snaps me out of my lust-filled haze.
He pulls back, his lips damp, his eye dark with a need that makes me both hungry and afraid. “Saved by the bell.” He winks as he moves to grab the phone. I don’t feel like I’ve been saved from anything, if the fire burning through my veins is anything to go by.
Needing a minute to myself, I head up to my room and lock myself in the bathroom before splashing cold water on my face.
I glance up at my reflection, wiping the specks of dried blood from my face, and wonder what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.
I had a plan, dammit, and neither Riggs nor Shepard was part of it.
Something tells me I’m going to find it virtually impossible to get rid of them.
And if I’m being honest with myself, part of me doesn’t want to.
It’s exciting and nerve-racking, and it makes me feel alive.
But dragging them in further will complicate things, not just for me but for them, too.
“Fuckity, fuck, fuck,” I curse, wondering how I got myself into this shit.
When my reflection has no pearls of wisdom to impart, I dry my face and head back downstairs.
Well, that’s my intention. But when I near my father’s office, I pause and head inside.
I move to the window, look down over the property, and take a deep, soothing breath, feeling the connection to both the house and the land.
Since I’ve been back, it’s grown stronger every day.
It now feels like a warm buzz under my skin.
I walk to the wall that stands between this room and the next.
I hold my hands over it and picture the room without it.
“Will it hurt you to remove this wall? I don’t want to do it if that’s the case.”
A breeze moves through my hair, but the window is closed.
It’s the house offering me comfort. Before I ask if it’s certain, the house starts to shake in its foundations.
I hurry to the doorway and stand under the frame, trying to remember if we’ve ever had an earthquake before, when I hear Riggs calling my name.
“Up here,” I call out. I don’t hear if he replies because a rumbling sound, followed by a loud crash, drowns out everything else.
Before I can figure out what’s happening.
Riggs has me in his arms. He drags me to the nearest bathroom and practically throws me in the tub, then covers my body with his.
I reach up, slip my hand into the collar of his T-shirt, and slide the other hand around his shoulders, anchoring him to me as the noise slowly fades and the house stops shaking.
His nose skims mine before he kisses me gently.
I think he’s reassuring himself that I’m okay.
I don’t fight him. I return the kiss and keep it soft too, feeling the bond between us grow like it’s a vine, binding us together.
I don’t realize my eyes have slipped closed until he pulls back and they snap open in protest.
“Later. I need to check out the house. I want you to wait here until I know it’s safe.”
I snort. “Fat chance.”
He sighs and climbs up before reaching down and lifting me out like I weigh nothing. “Somehow, I knew you were going to say that. At least stay behind me.”
“I mean, if it makes you feel better. But I’m pretty sure that was an earthquake, not an invasion,” I tease.
“Humor me.”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes flare at that. Oh boy.
“Focus, Riggs.”
“Right.”
He turns, but not before he takes my hand and hooks it into the back of his jeans. “Let’s go.”
I follow him out. The hallway looks fine.
So does the bedroom we pass. There is a broken picture frame that’s fallen off the wall and onto the floor, but otherwise nothing seems out of place.
Same for the next room. It isn’t until we reach the office that I gasp.
The office itself looks fine. Not a single book has fallen from the bookcase.
But the wall that once separated the office from the room next door is now a pile of rubble.
The rest of the house remains unscathed.
It’s left Riggs baffled, but I’m not sure the truth would help in this situation.
Still, I say a heartfelt thanks to the house as its awareness falls away.
I don’t panic, sensing that it’s resting.
I wonder if it feels the way I did when I used too much energy too fast.
After Riggs reassures himself a dozen times that the room is structurally sound, he finally relents and lets me in, and we start clearing the rubble.
It takes a few hours to get the mess cleared.
When I walk back upstairs after putting the vacuum away, I observe Riggs from the doorway.
He stands where the wall used to be, staring up at the ceiling.
“Everything okay?”