Page 51

He wasn’t gentle now, his hands gripping tight enough to bruise. The strength of him pounded into her—hard, relentless, like he wanted to imprint himself on her, wanted to imprint her on him.

Guttural sounds and rough words fell from his lips like caresses. He found her clit… circled, stroked. Knees splaying, breath gone, she detonated—unable to even gasp as he catapulted her up and over the edge. His shout filled the room as he followed.

Her heart beat in her ears as he eased from her and collapsed next to her on the bed, neither one able to drag in enough oxygen.

“That was—and you thought—”

With one hand at her neck to hold her in place, he plundered her mouth—deep, possessive. Leaving her long enough to dispose of the condom, he returned to pull her to his chest, his arm heavy across her and his heart still beating wildly. When his breathing slowed and deepened, she felt herself drawn under, too.

More. She needed more. She woke up to need, Oliver still wrapped around her like he was trying to hold on to the moment—to them—for just a beat longer.

How badly she wanted to trace his scars, to kiss each marking, but she should let him sleep—dawn was around the corner. Then she felt him stir, his hand moving up to her breast and his cock hardening against her. Turning to drag her mouth across his neck, she slid down his body. Settled between his thighs, she held his gaze as she took him in her mouth.

She loved the sound he made, low and throaty, when she ran her tongue around his crown. His hands twisted in her hair—not pushing, just holding on as she learned him just as he’d learned her. Long licks, deep pulls, unhurried even as his fingers flexed on her scalp.

“Come here,” he growled, yanking her to him, rolling until he caught her mouth under his, one hand reaching for the condom. Sheathed, he spread her thighs and drove into her.

Her legs came around him instinctively as he moved in long, deep strokes.

Their eyes met, held—something flickered in his, and he twisted away, dropping his head into her shoulder, hiding that part of himself from her again.

Chapter 26

Glued together by sweat, Addison lay plastered against Oliver’s chest. Against her ear, his heartbeat slowed, found its rhythm.

Outside, the storm hammered the windows, but inside the fire had settled into a low, steady crackle. His hand skated down her spine, and he pulled her closer. Not that she was going anywhere. She was as limp as an overcooked noodle.

“Tell me about your childhood.” The words rumbled up through his chest.

Lulled by his touch, she answered honestly. “I had to be an adult from early on. My parents are free spirits. They went on a lot of adventures when Kyle and I were little. They love each other—and they love love. When I was nine, they entered a relationship with another couple.”

The fingers sifting through her hair stilled. “What?”

“Yep. The four of them were inseparable. They even hyphenated our last names. For a while it was Yarrow-Atkins, though never officially. A few months after the other couple moved in, they all decided to go on a trip. They didn’t return for a month. Apparently, they fell in love with one of the Latin American countries they visited and decided to live there a while. I stayed behind to take care of Kyle.”

“By yourself? At nine years old?”

Addison lifted a shoulder, shrugging it off like she usually did. “The other couple had a son, Roman. A year younger than me. A stepbrother I never asked for. The two of us were left in charge. Kyle was five at the time.”

“You were kids.”

“Yes.” No other way to see it. “We were kids watching a kid for a month. Roman and I ran the household, got our homework done, went to school, took care of Kyle. But we weren’t good at that last part. One morning, Kyle fell out of a tree in our front yard. I don’t even know how he got up there. He had a bad concussion. We were scared to call anyone because we didn’t want to be taken away by CPS. Kyle got better. But it was a head injury—imagine if he hadn’t? He could have died. Roman and I were so scared, and felt so guilty, and ever since then, I think we treated him like a fragile kid… and that didn’t do him any good.”

“Are they all still together?”

“No. That ended when Roman and I were both in college. My parents have settled down a lot since then. They’ve been great with Netta. I think they’re ready to be adults now. But deep in my mind I still worry… What if she’ll cry too much and they’ll leave to go to a tropical island and stay there for a year?”

“Does Netta live with them?”

“Only the last six months.” Curling her hand against his chest, she propped her chin on her knuckles and peered up at him. “Mom and Dad are wanderers. In many ways, almost like Kyle. But I’m surprised at how good and steady they’ve been with her.”

Oliver traced a slow path across her cheek. When he adjusted his angle so that his good side was to her, she pretended not to notice. “Do you still stay in touch with Roman?”

“All the time. Daily. He and his wife are in Dublin, looking for Kyle. We flew in together. He refused to let me come alone.”

“He’s like a brother to you.”

“He’s been a better brother to me than Kyle.”