He was good at talking. Even better at listening. But in the rare moments we found alone in this house, we didn’t do much of that.
I bit his neck, mindful that although Ivy had wandered off, she could come back at any moment. “Mood I’m in you might find yourself stuck in a vortex of hateful silence.”
Folk chuckled. “There’s ways to break that, but I meant what I said. We can just have that tea, eh?”
I’d run out of time to debate it—with myself, with him. I rounded up Ivy, waited while she hugged Folk goodbye, then we left.
The rain had stopped. I picked up Liliana from Orla’s place and drove both girls to school while Nash tail-gunned behind.
He didn’t ask where I was going after, perhaps assuming I’d follow him to the compound, but I drove home without a second thought and let myself into the house.
Folk was on the sofa. It was the first place I’d ever seen him naked, and tunnel vision descended on me, pushing everything else away except the burning inside me.
Rage.
Desire.
The lines were blurred.
I walked into the kitchen and gripped the counter, bowing my head. My heart thudded an unruly beat, heavy with anxiety, but skipping with an energy I couldn’t begin to explain.
Folk had this way of knowing what I needed before I did. He came up behind me and pressed his forehead between my shoulder blades, his body flush against mine. “We can do whatever you want, but I’d be taking advantage of you if I didn’t tell you that us fucking isn’t going to fix anything.”
A strangled breath caught in my throat. Was that what I wanted? Right here? Right now? My thoughts were too jumbled to decipher, but somehow I was already reaching back and sliding my fingers over his hip bone, dipping into his waistband. “It’s not your job to fix me.”
“You’re not broken.” Folk unbuckled my belt. “And I’m not trying to fix you. I’m just saying the real world will still be there after I make you come.”
“What if I want to makeyoucome?”
Folk hummed a low laugh into my neck. “Strip and I’m halfway there.”
I wasn’t sure I could wait that long. And of course, he knew it. He stretched over my shoulder and shut the kitchen blind, blocking the world out and the sound of the quiet click that dislodged something inside me. My self-control. My dignity. As Folk tugged my T-shirt over my head, I didn’t have the brain power to think on it much.
I didn’t have anything except a soul-deep yearning for everything Folk.
His bare skin.
His lips.
The solid heat of his cock against my spine.
I turned my head and kissed him so hard I tasted blood, gasping into Folk’s mouth as he caught my dick in a rough grip, jacking me in time with my assault on his mouth.
“What do you want?” he murmured. “What do youneed?”
I couldn’t put it into words. No coherent ones. “I’m so fucking angry.”
“Yeah?” Folk dug his nails into my flank. “And you want me to fuck it out of you?”
He only swore when he talked about sex. And it somehow made his words hotter than sin. I pushed back against him. “Yeah. Do it. I want it.”
It. I meanthim. But Folk got the memo. The confirmation of a premonition he’d clearly had while I’d been gone as he produced lube and condoms from his pocket.
He dropped them on the counter and pulled his T-shirt over his head, still working my cock, pushing my jeans just low enough on my hips that he could slide his dick between my legs.
It wasn’t anywhere near enough, but I was so fucking hard, my body thrumming with crazed need, sweat already beading my skin. “Fuck.” I hung my head. “Fuck.”
Folk didn’t try and soothe me. He reached for the condoms, but a fit of madness drove me to bat them out of his hand.
