Whiplash

9K 191 15
                                    

Chapter Twenty-Four – Whiplash

"Did you all have a good night?" Vincent asked a few hours later as he was driving me home. Devyn had decided to stay and help Anthony and Dante close. I only relented and left her there after Dante assured me he'd personally take her home.

"We did," I said, laying my head against the cool window. Blowing out a breath, I finally decided to just rip the band aid off. "We ran into my trainer while we were there."

"Your trainer?" There was so much surprise in his voice that I turned to face him.

"Yeah."

Recognition flared in his eyes as he parked the car outside my apartment building. "Is that where you disappear to?"

"Maybe." The look he gave me would make any sane person drop to their knees and beg for forgiveness. I was so used to it from him, I just rolled my eyes. "Yes."

He let out a little hum of acknowledgement before exiting the car. By the time I had my seatbelt undone and had turned to get out as well, he was opening my door for me. He stopped my exit by easing my knees apart to settle himself between them. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned forward. From where I was sitting in the SUV, we were at eye level. Vincent used that fact to his full advantage. His hands skimmed from my knees, up my thighs, until they were settled on the slice of skin that was open between my shirt and jeans. His thumbs slipped under the fabric of my top to rub taunting circles across my ribs. I had a front row seat as his pupils dilated, the black swallowing green until I felt like I would fall right into them.

"And you were hiding this from me, because?" he murmured, leaning in even further to let his lips whisper across the juncture between my neck and shoulder.

"Because –" Every thought eddied out of my brain when he placed a soft kiss against the curve of my throat and proceeded to immediately rake his teeth over the tender skin. He repeated the process, drawing the most pitiful whimper from me.

"Go on," he urged, his fingers starting to play with the waistband of my jeans.

"Because I was scared," I admitted in a rush, needing to get the truth out before he distracted me any further. My words hit their mark with a sniper's precision. Vincent's entire body locked up. He was pressed so close to me that I felt the minute roll of his shoulders as he pulled back to lock eyes with me.

"Of what?"

"Not of you," I said, stroking my fingertips over his cheekbone. "I mean, yeah partially because of you," I amended at his arched brow. "But mostly, I just felt so helpless that first night. Granted it was like four on one, but I didn't stand a chance if they had decided they wanted to hurt me."

His furrowed brow smoothed out as understanding dawned. He took my face in his hands and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I'm sorry we made you feel like that, and I'm sorry you felt like you ever had to hide that from me. But I'm not sorry you were dragged into this world, princess." The timbre in his voice dropped as he tilted my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. He was the only thing I could see. The only thing that existed in that moment. "Because it brought us here."

I opened my mouth to reply, my eyes pricking, but he covered my lips with his, and my mind went blank. The only thing that mattered was the warmth of his body as we were drawn together. I twined my arms around his neck at the same time I closed my legs around his waist. Something akin to a growl rumbled in his chest, and my reaction was visceral. I couldn't get close enough to him. His fingers dug into my hips, likely leaving bruises, but I just arched even farther into him. Into that touch that was lighting me up from the inside. If you would have told me I turned incandescent in that moment, I wouldn't have doubted it.

Death of Me | Now Published to Kindle and Paperback!Where stories live. Discover now