Page 46 of Vengeance of the Gods

Bridger couldn’t help but follow the movement of her lips as they slid into a smile. He’d always been enchanted by her every move.

He called Vega’s bluff, taking a step towards her. Bridger looked down at her with an impish smile of his own. “Oh, is that the theory you want to test out this time?” He cocked his head. “I have a scar to prove your last test didn't go as you'd hoped.”

Bridger watched as Vega’s eyes trailed down his neck to his chest, like she’d be able to see through the layers of clothing he wore.

He cleared his throat, the noise lifting her gaze to his. “My eyes are up here.”

Vega scowled, her pretty face twisting. “Do you think I won’t try it?” She popped a hip, standing her ground.

Bridger’s chuckle vibrated his chest. “Baby, the only theory we’re testing is if you still make the same sounds you used to when you come.” He licked his lips, letting the buzz in his body take the lead, ignoring the voice of reason telling him to stop. “Ever wonder if it’s as good as we remember, or if we were just young, dumb, and in love?”

Vega’s lips parted, and a puff of air released. He watched her swallow, balling her fists at her side. Bridger could tell she was fighting against the same battle he was.

She wanted him. Physically, if nothing more.

Bridger should step back… but I can’t. It was getting harder to fight the call of their bonded souls.

Being this close to each other was dangerous.

Her pouty fucking lips were still parted, and the look in her eyes told Bridger everything he needed to know—she felt everything he did.

All of it.

When they took a break from trying to off one another, their bodies sang with a familiar need they both knew too well.

“Bridger,” Vega said, exhaling softly.

“Yes, Kitten?” His voice a soft hum as he leaned in close enough to smell her damp hair from the snow, the scent of whatever shampoo she’d used last clawing inside his nose and making him lose almost every piece of control he possessed.

“Go get us some fucking food before we make a mistake we can’t come back from.” Vega slid the cash inside his coat pocket and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

19

Vega rested her forehead on the cool bathroom door and pressed her thumb into the lock on its handle.

She listened to the sound of her breathing, focused on the cool metal doorknob, on whatever she could to forget the way Bridger looked at her with a hunger only a god of darkness could possess.

Forty years. He’d been her enemy for forty years. He’d spent the last forty-fucking-years working for the sister who wanted her dead.

But he was haunted too.

He’d made decisions for his own reasons.

He keeps them safe. The army. Like he always wanted.

Vega shoved herself off the door, hurrying for the tub. She didn’t give herself time to inspect the cleanliness and decided she didn’t care anyway.

Not right now.

She needed to wash this feeling away.

Vega stripped her clothes and stepped into the frigid stream of water sputtering from the ancient showerhead. The cold sent chill bumps over her heated skin, giving Vega the shock she needed to come to her senses.

What the fuck are you thinking?

“Bridger, your ex, your ex who left you, your enemy.” Saying it aloud didn’t make Vega understand it anymore than she had before.

Her brain knew the facts, knew how insane it was her body was acting like a touch starved backstabber. How was she supposed to ignore their bond’s instinctual physical connection?