by Sybil Bartel
“Where’s Candle?”
“Handled.”
Dead handled? I didn’t ask. I wanted to remove my head from my neck just so I could make the pounding stop.
We rode up to Viking’s condo in silence. He didn’t look down at me and I didn’t look up at him. I kept my hands in my lap and pretended he wasn’t carrying me because even though it felt safe and I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d want to be, I was pissed as hell at him. He could’ve easily stopped Candle in the restaurant but he hadn’t.
The elevator doors opened and Viking strode into his condo and went straight for the master bedroom.
“Guest room,” I protested.
“No.” He gently set me on his bed. “Wait.” He strode out of the room with purpose.
I tried to get up and same as in the garage, my legs gave out. “Goddamn it.”
Spice and musk and something else that smelled a lot like anger hit my senses and Viking scooped me up. “I told you to wait.” He set me back on the bed.
“I needed to brush my teeth. What the hell is wrong with my legs?”
“Compromised motor skills from the strike to your nerve. It will go away in a few minutes. Drink.” He handed me a glass of water.
I didn’t want water. I wanted answers and Advil and a damn toothbrush. I pressed on my temples and ignored his outstretched hand. “Why did you let that happen?”
“Scott is not our prime target.”
Then why the fuck was this the first I was hearing about it? And who the hell was our? “What are you talking about?”
“The president of the LCs is our prime target. Taking Scott out of the equation would limit our access to him.”
“You used me.” God, it hurt to say. I wanted to hate him but right now all I could do was curl into a ball as André’s warning played in my head.
“Scott is no longer a problem for you.”
I swam through a wave of nausea and looked up at Viking. He could only mean one of two things but his expression wasn’t giving anything away. “Is he dead?”
“No.”
Oh God.
Oh God.
He’d paid him. Viking had paid two hundred and fifty thousand dollars… for me.
Shock, dismay, revulsion, gratitude, shame—I couldn’t breathe. “You paid him,” I barely whispered. “Why did you do that?”
He stared at me.
Oh my God. “I can never, ever repay you.” Panic didn’t come close to describing the dread that was churning in my stomach. “You know that.”
“You owe me nothing.”
“Jesus Christ, Neil.” I buried my head in my hands.
“Scott is handled. You are safe.” Except he didn’t say it like he meant it. He said it like he was pissed the fuck off.
Screw Viking and his secrets and his money and his stoic fucking attitude. I wanted to see my son and I wanted my life back. “I want my son, right now,” I snapped.
“I will take you tomorrow,” he snapped back.
I was so shocked by his outburst that I didn’t say shit for three whole heartbeats as we stared at each other.
Then something occurred to me. Maybe, just maybe, Viking wasn’t ready to say good-bye to me. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he’d never intended for us to fuck only once. Maybe I was important to him.
But if I’d learned nothing else about him in the few hours we’d spent together, I’d learned this—he would never admit to himself that he wanted something badly. He was too alpha. He didn’t compromise, and more importantly, he calculated and strategized everything he did. If he wanted something, he took it. But he would never let himself admit to wanting something that was out of his control to get. And he held himself at a distance from everyone. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could ever penetrate that, let alone understand it.
But that didn’t mean I had to be a bitch about everything he’d done for me, or everything he’d personally risked.
So I swallowed my pride and tried to do the right thing. “Thank you,” I said sincerely.
His chest rose and fell twice. His gaze never wavered and his expression didn’t change but his voice went back to its usual quiet reservation. “Shower. I will get you something to eat.”
I understood his words for what they were. It was a Viking truce, simple and direct. I wasn’t annoyed by his alphaness, I wanted to embrace it. I was tired of pretending it didn’t make me feel special. I needed a shower, there was vomit on my dress and I’d never had dinner. He wasn’t being overbearing. He was taking care of me. “Okay,” I replied quietly.
With a single nod, Viking silently walked out.
And just like he’d said they would, my legs held when I stood and I went to the shower.
This time, the hot spray on my back didn’t sting. The water washed over me and something more than relief soaked into my bones. I was going to see my son tomorrow and I was safe. I almost didn’t care if my memory came back. I could live with it. I could live with a lot of things. Like not stripping anymore and working for André and having my son know what it meant to have a mother home at night to tuck him in.
I toweled off and looked at myself in the mirror, really looked. My eyes, my face, my thick, dark hair, it was all familiar. There were parts missing but for the first time since I’d woken up in that warehouse, I was okay with that.
A knock sounded on the door and I wrapped my towel tight. “Coming.”
I opened the door and Viking let his gaze stray to my towel for half a second but then he studied my face like he was looking for something important. I studied him back and maybe that was what was missing from the whole equation. Maybe I’d never appreciated him for who he was. My lips curved slightly up. “Hi.”
“Dinner is on the table. Eat. Get some sleep.”
My smile dropped as his last sentence registered. “Are you leaving?”
“I have some business to take care of.”
Despite everything I’d said, I wasn’t prepared to spend the night alone in his place. “Are you coming back?”
He nodded once.
I pushed. “Tonight?”
“No.”
The awful crushing feeling in my chest was so close to rejection that I turned my back on him and saw my suitcase on his dresser. He must’ve brought it in while I was showering. I fought down all my emotions and pretended to look through my clothes for something to wear.
“Ariella,” he softly called.
“No, it’s fine. I get it.”
I felt his body heat at my back as his voice came closer. “What do you get?”
That I’d read into what he’d said. That he wasn’t interested in me now that things were wrapped up. That he didn’t want to spend the night with me. But I chose a safer answer. “That you have a life to get back to. I’m sure your company needs you.”
His warm hand closed around my nape and his thumb brushed up the side of my neck. It was the same touch he’d given me a dozen times in the past twenty-four hours, but tonight it felt so very different and that different tasted like regret. “My company can run without me and you have a life as well.”
I nodded and spoke past the lump in my throat. “I know.”
“You are a beautiful woman, Ariella.”
His statement was filled with an unspoken contradiction and I didn’t want to hear any more. “You don’t need to waste compliments on me. I’m a big girl. I know what this is.”
“I waste nothing.”
Except two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and the opportunity to spend one more night with the woman he’d bought and paid for. “Go. I’m sure you have somewhere you need to be.” I was sick.
His hand moved from my neck to my arm and he turned me to face him. I couldn’t stop it, when I took in all of his strength, his incredibly handsome features and everything he’d done for me, tears welled and one spilled over.
He cupped my face and his thumb brushed at my cheek. “Explain.”
I gave him the
honesty in my heart. “You paid a quarter of a million dollars to save my life. I didn’t think I would be saying good-bye tonight.”
The concern in his eyes, the gentleness of his gesture, the intimacy in his voice, it all disappeared in a nanosecond and he dropped his hand. “You will never mention the money again. I will see you tomorrow.”
Not understanding his anger, I stepped back and dropped my gaze. “Sorry, I’m just… I’m tired.”
“Eat. Get some sleep.”
I nodded and picked up a baby doll nightgown I couldn’t ever remember wearing. “If you don’t mind, I need to get dressed.” Formal and strained, nothing about this felt right and I couldn’t figure out how everything had gotten so fucked-up. Worse, I didn’t even want to lash out at him anymore for the Candle thing because all I felt was sad.
“Good night, Ariella.”
My back to him, the stupid nightgown in my hand, I nodded.
A second later, the door softly shut.
THE STEAK WAS PERFECT BUT I barely tasted it. I cut it into small bites and at first, my stomach reared up and revolted at the sensation of eating. I forced a few bites down, then before I knew it, I’d eaten the whole thing and the green beans and potatoes.
I wished I could say I felt better but I was isolated and uncomfortable. And as I stared out at the black ocean, I became afraid. Afraid Candle would come back, afraid Viking wouldn’t, afraid of what would happen to Jason, afraid that Conner wasn’t okay. It became too much. I took my plate into the kitchen and suddenly, I realized I was utterly alone. If anyone came up the elevator or knocked on the door, what would I do?
In a moment of panic, I opened the front door to check the hallway and gasped in shock when I saw the man standing there.
“Ma’am? Everything okay?”
It took me a moment to realize he was wearing a Luna and Associates black polo. His legs apart, his arms crossed, wearing thigh and shoulder holsters, both occupied by lethal-looking guns, he had more muscles than André and an intense vibe to match.
“Um, fine,” I squeaked, shutting the door and locking it.
I scurried back to Viking’s bedroom, crawled to the middle of the huge bed and pulled the covers up to my neck.
I didn’t notice my purse on the nightstand until it started buzzing. My heart leapt and I grabbed the familiar bag and started rooting through it. A second later, I pulled out a shiny gold phone I didn’t recognize. The display said I had an incoming call from NC.
I swept my finger across the screen and held the phone to my ear.
Viking didn’t wait for me to say hello. “What is wrong?”
The sound of his voice was like a lifeline. “I, um…” I sucked in a breath and tried like hell not to sound desperate. “I just…” I just what? Needed him?
“Ariella,” he snapped.
“I can’t sleep,” I blurted.
Silence. Then, “Did you eat?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you go to the door?”
I breathed out and thought about lying. I could pretend to be tough, rattle off a dozen different excuses I’d made up, but none of them would net me what I really wanted and that was for him to come back. “I was alone and I got scared.”
“Fifteen minutes.” He hung up.
I stared at the phone.
Then I went to the call history but only Viking’s incoming call was there. I checked for texts and voicemails but there was nothing. I scrolled the contacts list and there they all were; André, Luna and Associates, NC, Talon, Tyler… I scrolled back.
Jason.
My finger hovered over his number. A number I’d memorized because it hadn’t changed in years. I wanted his familiarity so bad right now I could cry. His smile, his messy hair, his infectious laugh—I wanted the Jason I’d fallen in love with. I knew I’d made him out to be more in my mind than he ever was. I knew he’d betrayed me and Conner. But right then, I would’ve forgiven him everything if I just could’ve had five minutes of peace in his arms.
Except life didn’t work like that.
I closed out the contacts.
Thirteen minutes later, Viking walked into the bedroom.
Startled, I held the phone to my chest. “I didn’t hear you come in. You’re so quiet. Always so quiet.” Viking never bellowed out my name when he came through the front door. He didn’t pull me into his arms and bury his face in my neck when he saw me. He didn’t have messy hair and an empty bank account. And he never smelled like other women. Viking wasn’t Jason. Not even close. He was fearless and I took in the sight of him like I was starving, because I was.
“Years of practice.”
I didn’t believe for a second that he had to practice at anything. “You changed.” Fitted polo, cargo pants, the marks around his neck and wrists almost completely gone, he was austere and formidable and for a split second, I regretted telling him I was scared. What he could do to my heart was a thousand times more frightening than what I’d been through with Jason.
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate.
“I’m sorry you had to come.” Now that he was standing here, his unwavering gaze fixed on me, I wasn’t sure I could pretend anymore.
“Put the phone down.”
I didn’t argue or fight him. I set my cell on the nightstand then looked back at him, eager for more direction.
He tossed his keys on the nightstand then he reached in his pockets. His cell, wallet and a lethal-looking pocket knife joined his keys. His eyes still fixed on mine, he unclasped his watch and stepped out of his boots.
My heart started to pound like I was running.
He pulled his shirt over his head, his huge fingers deftly undid his belt, and his pants dropped to the ground.
I bit my lower lip.
Fitted boxers stretching over hard, muscled thighs, strength and determination radiating from his every movement, he turned off the light and pulled the covers back. The mattress dipped and my heart threatened to stop.
Then a muscled arm slid under my head, another wrapped around my waist and he tucked my back to his chest.
Everything went right in the world.
I grasped his giant bicep and inhaled the spice and musk that’d become my anchor. “Neil,” I whispered.
His arm tightened around my waist. “Sleep.”
I should’ve asked why a woman cut him across his chest, or what happened to Jason, or what time we were going to pick up Conner, but I didn’t.
His hold on me, his strength, his spicy musk, the fact that he’d come back—I didn’t want to waste this time on sleep. I wanted to feel him, everywhere. So I took a chance. “I don’t want to sleep.”
He didn’t react. He didn’t suck in a breath or move a single muscle. His lack of reaction was so strong, it spoke volumes.
Heat flamed my cheeks and I shifted, putting a mere inch between my back and his chest. “Sorry,” I murmured. His arm left my waist and I squeezed my eyes shut against my embarrassment. “I didn’t mean—”
His hand landed under my knee.
Warm and calloused, his fingers slid down my calf and wrapped around my ankle. I sucked in a breath as heat shot up my thigh. Slow, like he had all the time in the world, he lifted my leg and placed my foot on his hip.
My legs spread, need surged and a small sound escaped from my lungs.
With just enough pressure to drive me mad, he ran his hand up the inside of my thigh, tracing an invisible line from the crease of my knee to my core. No hesitation, he slid through the length of my pussy and the tips of his fingers spread my desire to my clit.
My back arched and I moaned.
His palm flattened on my stomach to hold me against him and his hips circled against mine then he reversed the caress.
Everything about his touch tonight was different. Unhurried, gentle, he caressed me like he was savoring me.
Emboldened by his touch, I reached back and my fingers threaded through his hair. Shocked by how soft it was, I gripped a handful. His
hand left my stomach and he wrapped his fingers around my upper arm and ground his hips again.
“Neil,” I begged, pushing back into him.
He released my arm and dragged his fingers down to my breasts. Cupping one then the other, he didn’t pinch or rub his rough palm across the sensitive tips. He maddeningly, frustratingly drew slow circles around my nipples.
I needed more.
Twisting up, wanting his mouth on mine, I wrapped my arm around the back of his neck and pulled. When he wouldn’t budge, my lips found his neck and I swirled my tongue across his flesh. The taste of man and musk filled my mouth and I groaned at the impossible ache between my legs.
As if he knew my exact thoughts, he cupped me. Pressing my hips back into him, he pushed his rigid length against my ass and I bit his neck.
The arm under my head gripped my hair in response and pulled. My mouth released his neck with a popping sound and I cried out. His hips left mine then a second later the tip of his hard cock dragged through my wetness and he shoved into me.
My whole body shuddered as a cry of shock ripped from my lungs.
Sinking to the hilt, he stilled for two heartbeats then pulled back and thrust home.
All at once, an overwhelming sensation of homesickness filled my head as my body soared with the joy of coming home. The two opposing feelings sent a tremor up my spine and shook me to my core. Desire twisted with anxiety and my chest compressed from the inside, stealing my breath.
Tears dripped down my face as Viking rhythmically moved in and out of me.
I wanted to fight the orgasm as much as I wanted to race toward it but I had no control. Every inch inside me, every breath of his that landed on my skin, I knew the truth. He owned me. He owned my body and he owned my heart. His fingers played me like every touch was a strategy only he knew. His strength held me captive and his cock filled me like no other man would ever be able to.
I cried and he fucked me.
He didn’t kiss me. He didn’t groan out my name. He didn’t make a sound except the whoosh of air as his lungs exhaled with a thrust of his hips.
The crushing realization of my heart slipping out of my hands fought with the sheer ecstasy of his body inside mine. My legs started to tremble but Viking didn’t waver. His steady thrusts said he knew I was about to fall apart. His hand under my thigh, pushing my leg higher, driving into me over and over, said he was intent on only one thing.