"Just go. We're not discussing this tonight," I repeat and then shut the window.
They nod and almost disappear in the snow before getting into the SUV.
More time passes, then Jagger appears. Relief hits me, then dissipates into thin air.
Wyatt follows him and opens my door. "Scoot over."
I curse. I should have known my brother wouldn't leave Wyatt behind. They may not see each other often, but they've been best friends since their first day of preschool.
He pats the side of my thigh, close to my hip. "Come on, darlin'. It's cold out here."
I glare at him, snarling, "Don't touch me."
The driver's door opens. Jagger slides in and orders, "Willow, move over."
I turn toward him, locking my gaze on his.
"Why aren't you moving?" he questions.
What am I doing?
Wyatt Houston's my secret wound, and it's full of stitches. One pull of a thread and the entire scab will come off, creating a bloody mess I'll never be able to clean up.
Unable to do anything else, I slide closer to my brother, trying to breathe and not engage with Wyatt.
But I feel his lewd gaze, and one glance is all I need to know what he's thinking.
He's trying to decide if he's going to break me or make me beg him to do it first.
2
Wyatt Houston
Heat ripples from the vents, driving me further to the edge. The alcohol in my system is wearing off, the throbbing bruises from the bar brawl aren't showing me any mercy, and I'm unprepared for my current predicament.
Willow Cartwright's the ruin that wraps around me in my sleep, all moans and memories I'd bleed to death to forget. But I never will. And here she sits after all these years, soft as silk, savage as sin, and hating me more than I could ever imagine.
How many years has it been?
"You going to tell me or what?" Jagger demands, tearing me out of my silence.
"What's that?" I ask, my eyes drifting from Willow's hand on her thigh to her brother's impatient stare.
"What was the fight about?" he pushes.
I shrug. "Nothing important."
Willow snaps, "You almost cost my riders their careers, and it was over nothing important?"
"Yourriders?" I hiss in disdain, clenching my fist near the door with jealousy bubbling under my skin.
She glares at me with hatred. It's so intense, it chills my bones worse than the ice around the windshield. Venom laces her tone when she sneers, "Typical Wyatt. Destroy everything around you just because you can."
"Jeez, Willow. The guy just got out of jail. Don't be bitchy on Christmas just because they're your clients. You don't know what they did to provoke him," Jagger says in my defense.
She turns quickly, her sharp gaze pointed at him.
I chuckle, then shift in my seat to try and give some relief to the raging hard-on I've had since I heard her name earlier.
