Page 87 of My Rose

“Pants,” Rose ordered as I parked the car against the tree line. “Pull them down.”

I chuckled. “You’re getting bossy again. I like it.”

“I thought you saidlikewas putting it loosely.”

I cocked a brow at her as I pulled my pants down, my cock already hard for her. I started stroking, rubbing my thumb along my tip. I let my head fall back in the seat as I groaned deeply at the sight of her—her perfectly taut nipples, the swell of her breasts as they hung above her petite body, a slight curve right at her hips.

“You’re so fucking stunning, Rose. Now get over here and boss me around some more.”

Her thick lashes fluttered, only the low lights from the dash illuminating pieces of her I didn’t need to see to admire her beauty. I’d memorized her entirely, saw her in my dreams that used to becovered in nothing but blood and death, and watched her for more years than she was aware of. She shifted from her seat to mine, settling her wet, gorgeous cunt right above me as she bit down on her lip.

My cock jerked up against her, unable to control myself as I took that lip between my teeth.

“Briggs,” she whispered as I released her lip, my cock nudging at her entrance as her hips swiveled. “I lov—”

I cut her off with another kiss, stealing the commitment she was about to make by pushing inside her at the same time. I swallowed her gasps and moans, drinking in her cries of pleasure as we found a pace that worked in the small, too-narrow car. My knees bumped against the door panel as I pumped harder, but I didn’t dare move my lips from hers—the thing she was about to admit twisting like a sharp knife lodged in my heart.

Rose loved me.

And I never felt more devastated by something I thought I wanted in all my life.

Her fingers dug into my shirt, clawing and pushing away from me to give her the breath she needed to finish her statement. But I refused to hear it. Not until she knew the truth. Not until I knew she could love me for the person I truly was—for the things I’d done when we were nothing but two children in the same class, one completely smitten and intrigued while the other only remembered pieces of herself that no one alive could shed light on—except for me. Some things trauma gave to you—anxiety, fear, desperation for things, or people who were out of reach. Other times, traumacould take like a hungry beast—your ability to function in normal situations, your voice, your memories. It always left an impression no matter how hard you fought against it.

Rose loved me for the person she saw now, the one she thought she knew completely. She’d likely never remember the fact that we grew up together for a brief time before high school, that I used to look at her as an innocent eight-year-old kid like she was the reason for each of the constellations in the sky, the pieces of dead stars only coming together in a full picture because she’d made it possible. She made everything whole. My young heart wasn’t prepared to actually fall in love with her then—no, what I felt at that time was infatuation. Hope. But now…now I was positive that without her, those constellations would all be as meaningless as the rest of my existence. Without her, the world would be bleak, keeping me in the clutches of an endless torture worse than anything my father could dream of doing to me. If he knew who she was, knew what she’d become for me regardless of his attempts to end it, he’d have her killed.

There was no turning back from wanting to be with her—that was already settled in my mind. As I told her, she was mine, and I was hers. That wasn’t where my internal turmoil was sputtering out of control. I loved Rose Fields, she loved me, and because of that—because I’d been so fucking selfish and hadn’t told her the entire truth—she would become a target. And I’d sooner die than have her ripped from my arms.

Rose’s breathing was intensifying, her pussy gripping my cock so fiercely I knew I wouldn’t be far behind her. I slowed herhips, holding her waist down as I gave shallow pumps, feeling every ridge of her convulsing while I grew mad at the sensations.

“Right there, baby. Just like that,” I growled between our slowing kisses, her lips gliding over mine in a way that I was certain she’d become so engrossed in her impending orgasm that she’d only get out breaths and moans if I stopped covering her mouth. I relaxed my hold on her, slipping a hand up to the nape of her neck while my other worked its way down to her clit. She ground against my thumb as I flicked and circled the tightly wound bud. “Come for me, Rose.”

Her head fell forward on my shoulder as I slid my throbbing cock in and out of her, letting her body bring me to my release just as hers began to roar to life. She murmured my name against my neck, her lips warm and soft as she placed heavenly kisses along my skin. Her pussy clenched me, milking me for everything I had as I continued to swirl her sensitive clit, making her stomach tremble. I wanted nothing more than to tell her I loved her, too. I wanted to hold her closer and profess my undying devotion to her as I filled her with my release. But I kept my mouth sealed against her damp skin, pushing her hair from her neck and continuing up on a path toward her plush lips. I kissed her passionately, my hands shifting to hold her mouth to mine, guiding her by her hair and neck to open her up more for me as my tongue swept into her mouth.

Her legs were shaking as they flanked my hips, my cock still buried inside her, acting as that plug I not-so-jokingly told her I’d get her. With as little movement as possible, I shifted the car back on the road and headed for the house. A few minutes later, I was carrying herfrom the car, our bodies still joined, fighting against the cold with the heat of our renewed desire. She wriggled in my hold, kissing my neck and shoulder through my shirt as I pressed my thumb to the lock, forcing it to open with one of the only two thumbprints that would work—mine or hers.

The moment I closed the door with a kick, I laid her down on the couch, stripped the rest of my clothes off, and made love to her all night long in the one place I could picture the rest of my life with her in—our home.

My phone rang on the white quartz island, Rose’s folded arms as she slept face-down on the large, white sectional stopping my heart as I answered on the third ring.

“What do you need?”

“Not even a good morning, or how are you, just awhat do you need? Damn, okay. I need to know where the fuck you went. I showed up at your house earlier, but Rhonda said you hadn’t come home yet. She was worried, the poor thing.”

I opened the double-panel fridge, one of those hidden ones that blended with the cabinetry. I just hoped the upgrades I had made wouldn’t be too much for Rose’s tastes. “I’m good. Tell her I’m alive and well.”

Dean paused, his voice muffled as he relayed that information to Rhonda, indicating he was still at the estate. He was silent for a fewlong seconds, then asked, “So, you fixed things, then? You aren’t out on some bender, becoming a fucking druggie?”

“I don’t know if I fixed things, but I’m not on anything.”

“Jesus, can you just elaborate a little more and tell me where you are, how you are, shit like that?”

I chuckled, pulling out the milk carton and walking over to the walk-in pantry for the pancake mix. “Do you know how to make pancakes?” I asked, ignoring him and reading the back label. Surprisingly, I only had to restock the fridge once before finally getting Rose here.

“Fuck no.” Dean laughed and the sounds of shuffling filled the phone’s speaker—probably the phone rubbing against his stubbled jaw, something I was now rocking these past few days, even though Father would kill me for looking so disheveled. I didn’t fucking care—Rose seemed to love it as it scraped against her skin. I was sure she had red marks between her thighs from the night we had.

I smiled as she shifted against the couch, still sound asleep with a throw blanket wrapped around her. “Right, well. I guess I’m about to learn, then.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Briggs,” Dean said low, his voice exasperated.

---