"Swan," Hux pinches the bridge of his nose.
"I said, again." A chest pressed against my back, large hands landing on my hip and holding me still before I can strike again.
“Hux, Axel is asking for a bath, and Garrett would like your help,” Wyatt states, the warmth of his hands seeping into me. “I’ll take over here.” His hands tighten, refusing to let me move. I find I’m not trying to. Wyatt will fight with me. He’ll brawl and anger me until something productive happens. He won’t let me off easy.
Looking between the two of us, Huxley exhales loudly before he leaves. The winged angel splayed across his entire back shifts as he walks, the flex of the muscle beneath causes her wings to flutter. Guilt tries to surface, but I push it down, saving it for later. Suddenly, I’m alone with Wyatt, and the air is crackling with a different kind of tension. One where compassion doesn’t belong.
Wyatt steps around me, his green eyes flicking over my flushed face, the loose strands of hair sticking to my temple. I’m just glad he can’t see the bruises starting to bloom on my shins. Setting my jaw, I tilt my head up to meet his face.
“Come on then. Fists up.” A slow, dangerous smirk spreads across his face.
“Oh, Avery, you don’t want to fight.” Wyatt chuckles to himself, his voice low and taunting. Scoffing, I throw my head back and stare at the ceiling. Great, another guy to tell me what I want.
“I assure you,I do.” Gripping my chin, Wyatt slowly shakes his head. His smirk falls away as his hands roam, smoothing my hair back off of my face.
“I get that you’re frustrated. I don’t like our current living situation any more than you do, but hurting Huxley isn’t going to make you feel any better.”
“It might,” I shrug. Wyatt’s eyes narrow, seeing through me in an instant. Extracting myself from his touch, I throw my hands up, slapping them down hard on my thighs. “How could he do that? After everything he knows Axel has been through.” It all comes bubbling out. The true reason behind my anger. The betrayal I’ve been holding ontosince last night’s dinner. Wyatt closes the gap I’ve made, refusing to let me run from this.
“It’s because of everything Axel has been through that he’s stepping up. He’s saving Axel from being subjected to any form of it ever again.” His body towers over mine, heat radiating from him like a furnace. His face inches from mine. “We will find a way out of this. We always do.” His voice is low, almost gentle, but his eyes are anything but. They burn with frustration, with desire, with something I can’t quite name.
“So if you’re not going to fight me, why are you here?” I glare, my body pulled taut with the raging emotions that I can’t let consume me. Wyatt’s small smile returns, his eyes dropping to my lips.
“Because I’m going to fuck you instead.”
Chapter Thirty
I move swiftly, grabbing Avery’s wrist and spinning her around. Her back slams against my chest, bringing the fight in her surging to the surface. She’s all fire, thrashing against me, her wild energy crackling in the air. I feel her pulse hammering under my grip on her wrists, her soft curves colliding with my hard lines. She’s resisting, but I can see through it. The way her body responds, the way her breaths hitch.
“You don’t want to fight, Angel,” I repeat beside her ear. “You want to feel justified in your anger. Spoiler alert, you’re not.”
Her body stiffens as I snake an arm around her waist, hauling her backward with me. She thrashes harder, but it’s no use. Her heat, her scent, her rage. It all fuels me, sharpening the edge of my control until it’s a thin, taut thread.
Avery’s lost sight of what matters, what’s real. Just because she is pissed at Huxley doesn’t mean she gets to punish him. It’s not our place to judge our chosen family, which is why I tend to walk away and let them figure out their mistakes for themselves. Then afterward, I swoop in and fix the fuckups they’ve made along the way.
Reaching the mirrored wall, I spin and press against the glass, the cold shock biting her skin through her thin T-shirt.
“Let me go,” she snarls, although her voice lacks conviction. I let the corner of my mouth curl into a smirk as I lean in, my breath brushing her lips.
“Not until you’ve come hard enough to see stars,” I mutter against her neck, punctuating the words with sloppy kisses. “And when you can barely stand, I’m going to march your spanked ass upstairs to apologize to Huxley.”
Stopping at the point where her neck meets her shoulder, I let my teeth graze at her soft skin, tasting the salt of her sweat. I savor the shudder that ripples through her as I bite down, just enough to leave a mark.
She tenses, defiance flashing in her dark eyes when I meet them. I can see her guilt buried beneath the layers of anger and stubborn pride, and I seize on it. My thumb brushes the corner of her jaw, tilting her face so she can’t look away.
“We’re all doing our best here,” I say softer now. “You were too hard on him. Don’t you agree, Angel?” She doesn’t immediately answer, too wrapped up in the way my fingers trail downwards, ghosting the fabric pulled tight over her breasts. Her body shudders beneath me, every nerve alight with anticipation. Finally, she nods.
“Good girl,” I rasp before crushing my mouth to hers.
Avery instantly falls victim to our fierce clash of teeth and tongue, of pent-up anger and raw, unfiltered desire. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be able to both calm and infuriate her like this, have her like putty in my hands. Gripping her hair, my body presses her harder against the wall. In return, she fists my T-shirt, yanking me closer and not letting go.
“Wyatt,” she gasps against my mouth, but it’s not a protest. It’s a plea. She’s finally surrendering. I growl low in my throat, gripping her hips to lift her. Those long, toned legs automatically wrap around my waist as I stride toward the weight bench. Lowering her down, I follow, my body caging hers, my lips never leaving hers.
Deft fingers sink into my hair, tugging sharply to open my mouth wider. Then her tongue is sweeping inside with the same possessive hunger I feel. I adjust her on the bench, ensuring she feels every inch of my cock pressing against her core. There’s no denying our connection anymore, and there’s no use being coy about craving it. Avery has let me in, and it’s only fair that I do the same for her.
“Look at you,” I murmur, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, her lips swollen and parted, her chestrising and falling in frantic rhythm. “So desperate and willing.” I let my thumb brush the underside of her sports bra, teasing her and watching her shudder. “If I’d known I was doing you such a service, I wouldn’t have let you beat on Huxley for so long.”
Her glare is weak at best, out of habit rather than heat, but I don’t give her a chance to retort. My hands slide beneath her shirt, her skin hot and smooth under my palms. Her back arches, pressing her tighter against me, and I drink in the sound she makes, a desperate little gasp that goes straight to my cock.
