Page 24 of Wild Return
Four years of hurt and regret pour out with every thrust. Her head falls back as I rub her clit hard and fast until she shatters and I let go, exploding with her.
“Viking!” she screams.
Our cries send a flock of birds into the sky.
Breathless, I finally kill the engine, and she plants her boots on the forest floor.
“I’m going to smell like gas,” she mutters.
“I’m going to smell like you,” I tell her. “Totally worth it.”
I slide my arms around her waist, resting my forehead against hers.
“This is me staying, Syd.”
She gives a non-committal harrumph, and a smile teases her lips. She’s finally starting to believe me.
11
SYDNEY
By Friday we’ve slipped into an easy routine. Viking brings me coffee in the morning, and when we can we spend our lunch break taking a ride up the mountain. But this morning I want to surprise him.
It’s early when I punch in the security code and let myself into the brewery. The brew team has been here since dawn, but the office area is silent and dark. My purse is slung over my shoulder, and in my hands I carry the cardboard box that Maggie left for me in the clubroom kitchen.
Balanced on top is a mug of coffee from Davis, black, no sugar, the way Viking likes it.
The door to the security hub is closed, and I place my goodies down on the ground and use my ID card to gain access. Propping the door open with my hip, I pick up the box and the mug. I glance down the walkway, but there’s no sign of Viking. As planned, I’ve timed it so he’s doing his morning rounds downstairs.
Inside his office is a wall of monitors. The extra cameras show every inch of the brewery. My cheeks heat as I realize that what we did a week ago against the barrels will be on record. I bet Viking hasn’t forgotten. I’ll have to remind him to eraseit. Although knowing him, he’s probably saved himself a copy somewhere private.
I smile at the thought, and heat surges through my body. Since I surrendered to Viking, I can’t get enough of him.
I place the cardboard box down on the desk, pushing a notebook and Viking’s phone out of the way. Inside the box are two round cupcakes. They’re decorated in a thick layer of frosted pink icing with black sprinkles. I leave the lid down and put the mug next to the box.
I’m about to sneak away when his phone buzzes on the desk. It vibrates so hard it makes the box move.
I peer at the screen:Unknown INTL
Who would be calling Viking from overseas?
I glance up at the bank of screens and spot Viking in the docking bay talking with Barrels. There’s a shipment going out today, and the loading bay is alive with activity.
The phone rings out, and I tell myself it’s none of my business.
I adjust the box so it’s square on the desk and pick my purse up off the floor.
The phone buzzes again, and it’s the same unknown overseas number.
It could be one of his military buddies who’s still enlisted. My hand hovers over the phone, unsure. If something has happened, he’ll want to know.
I pick it up and answer.
“Mr. Erikson?” The voice is female with a Middle Eastern lilt.
I’m too stunned to tell her that I’m not him, but she takes my silence as assent and continues.
“Mr. Johnstone is thrilled to have you onboard.”
