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But where is Ren? I stand on tiptoes, trying to see over the heads of so many men walking around now that they’re getting out of the vehicles. Nobody looks like they’ve been roughed up or anything, so I’m guessing the fight wasn’t too gnarly. I’d feel a hell of a lot better if I could get a look at him.
Finally, he climbs out of one of the SUVs followed by Q and Dad. My feet start moving before I tell them to, carrying me to him. I don’t care that everybody’s watching. I can’t help but throw my arms around him after I almost crash into his firm, warm body.
“Easy, Angel,” he mutters with a breathless laugh. When I pull back, his teeth are gritted. “I got shot, but the Kevlar kept me in one piece.”
He was shot. Somebody shot him. The world starts tilting, and I try to open my mouth to announce I’m going to faint, but nothing comes out. I barely keep myself on my feet.
“That’s not the entire story, either.” Dad pinches the bridge of his nose when he reaches us, then releases a heavy sigh. “It could have been Quinton. It was supposed to be Quinton. And it would have been, had Ren not gotten in the way at the last moment.”
Now I’m really swaying on my feet. My brother walks past, nodding to Ren as he goes. I’m sure he’s in a hurry to get to Aspen after a close call like that. At least he gets to be with her. There are no bars separating them.
Thinking of bars clears up the mess in my head long enough for me to realize besides the quick hug in dad’s office, this is the first time in ages I’ve been able to hold Ren with nothing standing between us. And he can hold me. I rest my head against his chest and close my eyes, willing myself to memorize everything—his strong arms, his heartbeat, the sense of security I feel. Even knowing everything I know about him, about how volatile River is and how unpredictable his appearance can be, it doesn’t matter. Right now, he’s Ren, and he’s holding me, and he’s alive. I don’t need anything else.
“She’s dead.” Ren’s voice cuts through the noise in my head. “Rebecca. She’s gone.”
I can’t stifle a gasp. “Did you…?”
“I wish. But she’s gone. That’s what matters.” He touches his lips to the top of my head before heaving a sigh. Being so close to him, I feel the way he changes. His posture stiffens, his shoulders roll back, and when I look up at him, he’s looking at Dad. “Thank you for letting me be a part of that,” he grunts, nodding. “I guess I’ll head back down to my cell now.”
My chest aches at the thought. With my arms still around Ren’s waist, I look at Dad, hoping he’ll be reasonable. Ren took a bullet for Q. What else does he need to do to prove himself?
Dad must see this, too, because he shakes his head. “No. You can take one of the rooms upstairs instead.”
My heart’s going to burst. I don’t want to show that, though, in case Dad has second thoughts once he sees how excited I am. “Come on,” I murmur, letting go of Ren only long enough to take him by the hand. “Is there anything you need? Where did you get hit?”
“My side.” He touches a hand to his right ribs, but shakes his head when I make a sympathetic noise. “It’s nothing. I mean, it hurt like I got kicked hard when it first happened and it knocked the wind out of me, but it’s a hell of a lot better than what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for the vest. Don’t worry,” he insists.
“Easy for you to say.” He’s not the one who almost lost the most important person in his world today. If he had died, it would have been for Q. I wonder if this is finally enough to make my brother understand Ren was not acting out of malice when he did what he did. Otherwise, what will it take to make him come around? I don’t even want to think about it. It’s enough for now that Dad is even letting Ren upstairs. It’s progress. I’m going to choose to be happy about that rather than wanting more.
“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat from the kitchen before we go up?” When our eyes meet, it’s like I’vefinally heard myself. What am I doing, offering him food when this is our first time together with him outside his cell? There are more important things to focus on right now.
It’s obvious when his nostrils flare, and he growls softly, that he’s thinking the same thing. Instead of going to the kitchen or anywhere else, I lead him up the wide staircase and into the east wing where the guest rooms sit. Choosing one at random, I open the door and find the room already arranged—fresh linens on the king size bed, not a speck of dust anywhere, and the ensuite bathroom will be stocked with clean towels. Mom likes to keep the guest rooms ready for visitors, since there’s never any knowing for sure when an unexpected guest will show up. Especially at a time like this, with Roman and Sophie and Luna already staying with us.
It’s not them I’m thinking about as Ren steps into the room. I don’t care about anybody but the two of us as I close the door behind me and lean against it, breathless and aching, longing to touch him, to prove to myself that he’s real. He’s alive, they didn’t hurt him.
He turns away from the bed to look at me, and all it takes is the briefest eye contact for my body to respond with an intensity that leaves me trembling. But as much as I want to reach out and touch him, I’m frozen in place, overwhelmed by my longing. I could’ve lost him.
He crosses the room in two long strides, not saying a word before burying his hands in my hair. He crashes against me and covers my mouth before I can make a sound. That’s all it takes to unlock everything I’ve been holding back. All the loneliness, all my need—everything. I pour all of it into him, drinking in his kisses and his touch until I could cry with relief and joy. I’m back where I belong. Pinned against the door with his unyielding body holding me in place, and my ecstatic cries muffled by his mouth. He kisses me deeply, growling as he does,consumed the same way I am. He rolls his hips and drives his hardening dick against me and tears of relief squeeze their way from between my lashes, rolling down my cheeks and wetting his face.
He feels them and breaks the kiss, his eyes darting over my face. “Are you all right?” he whispers, breathing hard.
“Kiss me,” I beg, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down. I’m too greedy for his kiss and his touch to explain. We can talk later. Right now, this is all that matters.
He must agree, since his hands soon begin tugging at the waistband of my leggings. I help him, pulling them down and kicking them off before touching my hands to his waistband and unbuckling his belt. There’s no sound but our quick, anxious breaths while we fight to find the relief we both need so desperately. I’m almost sobbing with frustration by the time he drops his pants and shorts to free his dripping cock.
“Quick,” I beg, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Please. Put it in me. I need you.”
He barely takes time to lift my leg and drape it over his hip before skewering me with one sure thrust. The sudden connection makes my body go stiff, my mouth falling open as unspeakable pleasure rolls over me. It’s not just physical pleasure, either. I have him here, inside me, where he belongs.
But all it takes is the slightest movement of his hips to leave me burying my face in his neck to muffle my moans. How could I have forgotten how good he feels? “Fuck, Angel.” He breathes in my ear as he takes me hard and fast, rattling the door with every deep stroke. “Fuck, so sweet. So wet.”
I can only groan, my fingers twisting and tugging his hair as every thrust takes me closer to sweet oblivion. I didn’t know how much I needed this, to lose myself in him. All of the hurtand the loneliness and the questions are washed away. There’s only us. The way it’s supposed to be.
“Getting tighter,” he rasps against my ear, his hot breath making me shiver and whimper. My nipples brush against his chest as he moves me up and down, sending delicious shockwaves of sensation straight to my pussy. “Are you going to come for me? Fuck, I need to feel it. I need you to come on my cock, Angel. Can you do that for me?”
Can I? I don’t think I have a choice. It’s coming on so fast, my whole body tensing in preparation for what I know is going to rock me to my core. “Make me come,” I beg, scraping my teeth over his earlobe until he slams into me hard enough that I’m walking the line between pain and pleasure. But I love it. I want him to hurt me, I want him to make me sore enough to feel it after this is over.
“Harder,” I beg, then press my face to his neck when he gives me what I want. Harder, faster, until the door bangs on its hinges, and I’m lost in ecstasy. It hits me all at once, like waves crashing against the shore, and all I can do is sob against his skin and cling to him as tightly as I can while he fills me with warmth, groaning against my shoulder and shuddering in release.
