Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Whatever he saw in my face had him crossing the distance between us quickly and pulling me into his arms.
I immediately melted into his chest, clinging to the sides of his cut, inhaling the smell of leather and the scent that was uniquely him.
Swiss kissed the top of my head. “I was scared,” he murmured, pulling me back so we could make eye contact. “It terrifies me, the thought of something happenin’ to you. And I’m a guy who functions off the belief that he’s a badass in control of everything. Which means I don’t do well with fear. And I’m sorry.”
I blinked at him. He was apologizing. To me. Immediately after doing the thing that he was sorry for. As soon as he saw the effect his anger had on me.
There were a lot of things I could’ve—should’ve—said then, looking into the endless eyes of the man I loved. And I did love Swiss. In addition to my very real and scary problems, that was the main thing that had me out running.
Something I quite obviously could not tell him.
“You may have to carry me to the bike,” I chuckled softly. “Because I haven’t run in my life, and I fear I may have lost the use of my legs.”
Swiss stared at me for a beat and then burst out laughing.
It was not a joke. Now that the fear and adrenaline had worn off, my muscles were locking up, and my knees were shaking under the stress of keeping my body upright.
Swiss gathered me into his arms once he’d finished laughing. “You gonna be able to fuck when we get home?” he asked, walking us to the bike. “Because I’m definitely gonna need to get inside you.”
My body flushed. “As long as you do all the work,” I told him.
A throaty chuckle. “I think I can do that.”
And just like that, a biker on a Harley saved me in the middle of the night. From myself.
For the time being, at least.
True to his word, Swiss did all the work when we got back to the club. First, in the shower. Then in the bed, with me tied up.
He had just let me out of the restraints and pulled me onto his chest.
We didn’t do much talking when we got in. It was all about our bodies, desperate for each other, rediscovering each other after only a day and a half apart.
But there were going to be words now. Swiss wasn’t one to let something go. And me running down a deserted road in the middle of the night was pretty fricking weird and needed a little more explanation than what I gave.
“I’m… not ready to talk about it,” I announced before Swiss could ask the question I knew was on the tip of his tongue. I could tell by his intake of breath, the energy in the air. And I was not someone to believe in ‘energies,’ but there was no other way to explain it.
Swiss rubbed my back. “I get it,” he said. “I understand there’s shit both of us are holding back because it’s intense. ’Cause it’s fucked-up. ’Cause it’ll tear apart the awesome fuckin’ thing we’ve created.” His eyes narrowed. “Not break it or make it, so that I don’t want you. Fair warning… When you are ready to tell me your shit, there’s nothing that you can say that’ll make me let you go.”
Wrong.
Totally wrong.
But I didn’t say that out loud, of course. I was too busy reveling in what he was saying. The emotion in his words.
“I’m just very aware that things have been good between us,” he continued. “Really fuckin’ good. And I know that you, arriving here with a duffel full of shit, stayin’ at a weekly motel, a nice one to be sure, nothing to be ashamed of, but I’m pretty sure your life before was all about designer suitcases and fancy ass hotels.”
I pursed my lips at how accurate his assessment was.
“I’m aware that the shit you left behind, the life you left behind was rough on you. Very fuckin’ aware that you’re emerging from a chrysalis, that I was lucky enough to see you come out a butterfly. And fuck if I’m gonna be the one to bruise those exquisite, brand-new wings. Not yet. You deserve this.”
He sighed loudly.
“Fuck, I know I do. So I’m bein’ a little selfish on my behalf. But, baby, you want to dive in right now, tomorrow, next week... I’m ready to go deeper with you. Fuckin’ achin’ to get to the core of you.”
Tears filled my eyes. I was not aware that men were able to see things so clearly. Feel so deeply. String words together like Swiss just had. They wrapped around my heart like barbed wire, cutting me with every beat. He was doing everything right. Saying wonderful things. And the weight of it was foreign, uncomfortable after years of abuse.