Page 33 of You've Got The Love
“Reapers,” I say, short and sharp. “In the market. They’re here.”
The blood drains from her face, but she doesn’t argue. Doesn’t waste time. She disappears into the bathroom, already grabbing our things. I catch a flash of bare thigh beneath the shirt she’s wearing, and my brain short-circuits for a split second.
Last night slams back into me—her on top of me, panting, riding me slow and desperate, like she needed it as bad as I did. Her hands braced on my chest; her eyes locked on mine when she shattered.
Ican still feel her.
I shouldn’t be thinking about that now. But Jesus, how the hell do I forget something like that? How soft she sounded when I whispered filthy shit in her ear. How fucking tight she was, like she was made just for me.
Focus, Bastiaan.
I kill the shore power and secure the deck while she finishes packing. We cast off just as the street above the canal starts to stir.
I keep my eyes on the banks, scanning for bikes. Boots. Leather.
Nothing.
We make it out. Barely.
Thank fuck.
Hours later, we’re in the van, the barge left moored somewhere out of sight. The motorway hums beneath the wheels as we head north. Amber’s curled up in the passenger seat, dozing again, her head resting against the window.
I glance over at her. Her hand rests lightly over her stomach. Lips parted. Long lashes fanned over her cheeks.
So fucking beautiful it hurts.
But in the pit of my gut, there’s a lead weight. Because I don’t know what last night meant for her. I don’t know what it means forus. All I know is I’d die before I let anyone lay a hand on her.
She let me in. Touched parts of me no one’s come near in years. And now I don’t know how to be near her without wanting her all over again.
She deserves more than a man like me.
But I’m selfish.
Because last night… I didn’t hold back.
And now that I’ve had her, now that I know how she tastes, how she moans, how she clenches around me when she comes—I don’t think I can go back to pretending she’s just Amber, the woman I’ve been quietly obsessed with the past two years.
Not anymore.
Copenhagen’s still hours away, but my mind is stuck back on that barge. On the way she whispered my name. On how her thighs trembled after I made her come on my tongue.
She’s mine now.
Even if I’m too much of a coward to say it out loud.
Even if the world’s trying to take her away.
They’ll have to go through me first.
Chapter 18
Amber
By the time we cross into Denmark, I feel like I’ve been wrung out and left in the sun to dry. Nine and a half hours in the car has turned my legs to jelly, my head to fog, and my stomach to knots.
Bastiaan drives like a man with a mission. He barely speaks, his hands firm on the wheel, his eyes constantly scanning the mirrors. I’ve learned that his silence isn’t coldness—it’s him thinking, calculating, protecting. Still, it leaves me alone with my thoughts, and that’s a dangerous place to be.
