Page 75 of Broken Halo
And, apparently, nothing’s changed.
Unlike ten years ago when he kissed me on a dare, today he takes my mouth because his desire is unyielding. I don’t fight him. I forget about everything because nothing has felt like this in so long—since it was just him and me, and for the few short weeks, our baby.
The happiest weeks of my life.
He presses me into the cushions and runs a big hand down my side where he catches me under the knee, hiking my leg. Ripping his mouth from mine, his words are heated and heavy across my face. “Told you I’ll take care of your fucking in-laws and the drug charges. You focus on Griffin but I’m not leaving. I’m never doing that again.”
He presses his cock between my legs and a shudder runs through me, an antidote to the decade that kept us apart. He dips his head and I feel his tongue stroke my skin, licking and sucking, his teeth coming out to play, nipping at my ear.
Reaching up, I thread my fingers through his thick, dark hair as his lips move on my ear. “And I want to get you out of this damn house. You don’t belong here.”
I fist his hair as he yanks up my tank. “Trig—”
He palms my breast over my bra and squeezes. “Don’t push me away again, angel. I don’t think I can take it.”
I shake my head because the thought of sending him anywhere right now hurts too much. I cup his jaw in my palm. “I’m not pushing you away but we can’t have sex. I’m not on birth control and I don’t have any condoms. We can’t take that chance again.”
He squeezes his eyes in frustration and I can tell he’s berating himself for not coming prepared. I guess I should be happy he only came bearing old journals and not assuming he’d get me here—on my back, ready and willing.
Because I’m certainly ready, and if we had a condom, I’d be more than willing.
Opening his eyes, he studies me for a quick second before asking, “Do you trust me?”
“What?” That is not what I expected him to say. I thought he’d roll us onto our sides and tell me we’d snuggle and I’d get too hot while we slept on the sofa again.
“Baby, answer. Do you trust me?” I exhale and think but Trig isn’t in the mood to be patient. He pulls the cup of my bra under my breast, exposing me, though he doesn’t look away from my eyes. “It’s just you and me. We’re the same people we were before everyone started fucking with us—I feel it and I know you do, too. Tell me you trust me.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat. There have been times in my life when that answer was a resounding yes and then, later, an even more unquestionable no. I’m not sure I’ve trusted anyone but my sister in a really long time. I haven’t trusted my dad since he forced me to turn on Trig. I only talked myself into trusting Robert and that faded with time and ended up being the biggest mistake of my life.
Do I trust Trig?
“Angel,” he growls the pet name he anointed me with right after our first kiss and it stuck. His words vibrate through me—so weighty, I feel them in my bones. “They broke us. Fuckin’ kills me I allowed that to happen. I’ve never been the same and I don’t think you have either. Forget everything. It’s just you and me again. Do you trust me?”
My answer comes swift and honest when I breathe, “Yes.”
“Yeah you do,” he grits as he twists my nipple and presses his cock between my legs. “You can trust me more than anyone. It’s the way it should’ve been, and from here on out, the way it will always be.”
My tank is ripped over my head and my bra lands on the floor next to it. My cut-offs, panties, and Trig’s soft tee join them in short order. When I’m naked on my sofa and blanketed by Trig’s warm skin and rock-hard chest, his thick arm dips under my back when he pulls my nipple into his mouth.
“Oh,” I moan, running my fingers through his hair, realizing how much I missed this—something I’ve never had with anyone but him. Utter and total ecstasy that only Trig can give me. I’ve done everything to squash the feelings bubbling in my heart after we lost control in his office yesterday, my brain doing its best to talk the rest of me into the fact it was a mistake.
But now, I can’t deny it. Hell, I can’t deny him or my heart any longer.
He kisses his way down my stomach, to my hip, and over my bare pubic bone.
“Never forgot the first time I tasted you,” he murmurs against my skin. “You might’ve been hell on wheels, but not with this.” He easily runs a finger through my sex that’s slick, just for him. “You were embarrassed and shy. I had to talk you into it, remember, baby? Promised you that I’d make it so good, you’d beg me for more.”
“You were so cocky.” I look down my body at him and can’t believe we’re here. “You were always cocky but you were mine.”
Without taking his eyes off mine, one side of his mouth barely tips into a wicked smirk because he knows it. Then he makes me gasp when he drags his tongue from my sex to my clit, slow and with just enough pressure, he knows he’s doing nothing but leaving me on the edge of a cliff, making me want to give up everything and jump, handing him my life.
And for him, I would. I’d give up everything. I already did. I already have.
My head falls back to the arm of the sofa and I lift my hips.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he says right before he grips my ass with his big hands and lifts me to his mouth, showing me just how much he missed me.
He sucks and nips and fingers me, and not gently, not like when he had to talk me into putting his mouth on me for the first time so long ago. Now, he’s out of control—taking as much as he’s giving—and my mind starts to blank … there’s nothing in the world but us.
