That man stayed with her all night. Slept next to her all night.
Fucked her over and over again all night.
That man had taken her every way a man can take a woman, and she wanted it. Wanted him in her body, her mouth, her bed, her life.
He hated that man. He almost hated Bébhinn.
He hated himself the most. Had he talked to Bébhinn months ago, before Wales, maybe even before her father died, she would have never met that man.
What did he have left? How would he move past that? Would it matter if he finally told her what had been in his heart for so long now?
They’d had breakfast in bed, laughing and talking to each other like they’d been together for years. He had thought she’d only ever seen him the once after the hike.
He’d been wrong. This was clearly a relationship, not a one-off.
He closed his eyes and swallowed the pained scream that needed release. He couldn’t stand to look at her bed in its current state of disarray, but his eyes were glued to it, nonetheless.
Bébhinn and that man were in the shower.
Together.
They must have left the door open because he could hear muffled moaning and groaning. They were at it again.
Without her…without the hope of having her someday…
He should just lie down and die. Would she miss him? Would she cry at his funeral? Would she regret not choosing him?
forty-six
DAGR
Dagr was satisfied beyond measure.After weeks of mooning over her like a teenager, Bébhinn was his.
He hoped. They hadn’t discussed the future. They’d been busy having more sex than he’d ever managed in one go. He’d never felt such a burning need for another woman. She’d probably run if she knew he was looking at her as his lifetime partner. He at least needed to know if this relationship was, in fact, a relationship.
Bébhinn was young. She might be thinking he was a bit of a good time.
Dagr was sitting on her bed when she emerged from the bathroom, dressed in baggy blue jeans and a fitted white tee. The white Hermès tennis shoes made the whole look seem effortless but chic.
Her long black hair was pulled over one shoulder. He remembered how the sleek, straight strands felt when they dragged over his naked body. He had to adjust himself quickly, forcing his mind to the family lunch—a perfect boner killer.
“You’re looking awfully serious.” She stepped between his spread legs, bending to give him a peck on the cheek. “I hope you’re not worried about lunch. Everyone will love you, and I admit, I really want you to meet my mother.”
He hesitated for only a moment before deciding he just needed to come out with it. Beating about the bush had never been a part of his nature.
“What are we? I mean, what are we telling your family?” He felt her stiffen and, in return, felt his body tense.
She looked at him solemnly before answering. “I’ve known what I want us to be for a while. I need to know what you think.”
Fair enough. “I want something serious. Permanent. I’m not interested in dating or sleeping with other women or you sleeping with other men.”
“If you did, you wouldn’t be adding me to the rotation. I don’t sleep around. I don’t want to sleep around. You’re only the second man I’ve ever slept with, and I’m not interested in adding to my body count.”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
“So, we’re dating?” He wanted clarification.
