Neil (The Uncompromising Series Book 2) (23 page)

But he did it without emotion.

He didn’t tell me I was tight. He didn’t speak words of encouragement. He didn’t tell me I was beautiful or feed me dick-hard compliments. He silently, stoically, fucked the shit out of me. Each thrust hit a place I never wanted to know existed but now couldn’t live without. Sweat mixed with musk and I wanted to bathe in it. His grip tightened and his strokes slammed home with a fierce jerk every time he sank deep.

My nipples hardened with excruciating tenderness as an ache built to a throbbing storm between my legs that was only relieved with every crash of his hips. Impossibly, the shake built again and Viking grabbed my wrists in one hand. Holding my arms over my head, the fingers of his other hand digging into my hip, he started to pound into me in earnest.

“Come,” he commanded.

One thrust, two… pleasure, pain, sweat, tears—my body listened.

Falling over a cliff, mainlining, jumping out of a plane, every terrifying thing I could think of, none of it came close. I climaxed like a fucking seizure was wracking my body and collapsed as a Viking pumped hot come inside me.

Before I crumpled to the floor, he caught me around the waist and stood to his full height. Impaled, my legs dangling, I shivered as his sweat slicked my back. He swung his free arm under my thighs and slowly, gently, lifted me off his cock like I weighed nothing.

A giant emptiness assaulted me as his release gushed out of my quivering pussy, but he didn’t even pause. He cradled me to his chest and walked us into the master bedroom.

He didn’t set me down. He didn’t get me a washcloth. He didn’t ask if I was okay. He put one knee on the bed, yanked the covers back and climbed in.

My mind reeled and I fought against the reality of a situation that’d never be. “That’s not happening again,” I protested, realizing that not even my hoarse voice sounded like it belonged in a bed with Viking.

He didn’t toss me aside. His arm captured my head and his chest cradled my back. “Go to sleep.”

For now, I was still in his arms but make no mistake, I was thoroughly used.

Like a rag doll.

I
WOKE UP ALONE WITH
the regret of sticky semen between my thighs. I smelled spicy musk all over me but his scent wasn’t on the bed. He must’ve left the second I fell asleep but I didn’t remember a thing. I pushed to a sitting position and immediately lay back down.

“Shit.” My pussy ached.

“You’re awake.”

I started then turned toward his deep, quiet voice. Fully dressed, an unreadable expression blanketing his features, Viking was leaning on the doorframe. He didn’t look any different from last night but I saw him differently, completely differently. And that scared the shit out of me.

I reached for distance. “You came inside me,” I accused.

Graceful like a panther, he reached down, picked up the bag André had brought last night and tossed it on the bed. “Get dressed.”

The command stung like rejection as the bad landed next to me. I’d been so wrong. I couldn’t handle one fuck with Viking. I couldn’t even handle the one-eighty his demeanor had taken from last night without taking a hit to my heart. “Are you going to answer me?”

“You did not ask a question.”

I wanted to hate him. “Am I going to catch something?” Or worse? I thought of Conner and what feeding another mouth would cost, and part of me wanted to burst into tears but all the traitorous part of my heart could see was Conner as a sweet baby. Jesus, I was so fucked.

“Are you accusing me of being irresponsible?”

I pressed my fingers to my temples and squeezed my eyes shut. “Weren’t you?” Fuck, my head hurt.

“You have a headache?”

I bit back a sarcastic response and gave him a taste of his own bullshit. “Did you sleep here last night?”

“No. How bad is your head?”

Fuck him. “It’s fine.” I grabbed the sheet and hastily wrapped it around myself but when I stood, I flinched.

He was at my side in an instant and his hand wrapped around my upper arm for support. “Are you dizzy?”

I jerked out of his grasp. “I’m
fine
.”

He didn’t let it go. His hand landed between my shoulder blades and I recoiled. “You are not. What is wrong?”

I glanced up at him and wished like hell I hadn’t. Every second of his mouth and hands on me and having him inside of my body replayed in my mind like a cruel joke and he became about a thousand times more attractive than yesterday. I had no defense against him and worse, I was sure I looked about as shitty as I felt. Nothing left to lose, I opened my mouth and let everything just bleed out. “My kid was taken from me, I was shot and kidnapped then I had the shit fucked out of me by a goddamn unemotional Viking who’s colder to me now than before I stupidly gave it up. But I can’t even tell if that’s normal behavior from him because I have no fucking memory. So take your hand off me and go back to wherever you came from because I need a shower before the last single fucking shred of dignity I have slips out of my control.”

He held my gaze. “You are not stupid.”

Really? Out of that whole speech, that’s what he took away? “Great, thanks. Moving on.” I stepped out of his grasp, grabbed the bag and aimed for the bathroom. “You can leave now.”

He stepped in front of me, cupped the side of my face and lowered his voice. “I told you once you look beautiful in the morning when you wake up.” His thumb glanced across my bottom lip. “I was not lying.”

I didn’t know what I was expecting him to say but it wasn’t that. “You’ve seen me wake up before?”

“Twice.”

Damn it. I’d slept with him.

“We never had sex before last night,” he said, answering my silent question. “Your memory will return. You will get your son back and the LCs will be dealt with. Your head, your back, they will heal.” He voice went even quieter. “I am not irresponsible. I have not had unprotected sex in over a decade and you told me you had cramps last weekend. The timing is unlikely.”

He knew about my periods? “And you’re assuming I’m safe?”

“I do not think you have been with anyone since your son was conceived.”

How the hell did he know that? I didn’t know if I was totally embarrassed or freaked the fuck out. “You think but you don’t know and how convenient—I can’t remember.”

“Do not be defensive with me.”

“Says the man who throws a bag at my feet and tells me to get dressed.” His hot and cold bullshit was pissing me off. And if I was being honest, I couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d kissed me. I’d never been kissed like that and Viking didn’t look like he kissed many people. Oh my God, I had to stop thinking about this.

“Ariella.”

The sound of my name on his lips made my heart flutter and I held a hand up. “You know what? Forget I said anything. I’m going to shower.” Me, the sheet and the bag full of new clothes shuffled to the bathroom. I thought I was in the clear but when I closed the door behind me, it hit a wall. A Viking wall.

I sighed. “Not a free-for-all.” I dropped the bag.

“The woman I know does not feel sorry for herself.”

I turned the shower on and pretended he didn’t just make me feel like shit. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“Yes.”

I adjusted the temperature to scalding. “Okay, mind reader, you can leave now.” I wasn’t dropping the sheet in front of him.

“Let me see your back.”

Goddamn it, how did he do that? I didn’t turn to face him. “Then will you leave?”

He didn’t answer. In fact, he didn’t make a sound. I knew what he was doing. I could feel his disapproval through the silence as if he’d hired a damn skywriter.

I turned and as I knew they would be, he and his stare were waiting. Penetrating, expressionless, he held his mask as he waited for me do what he wanted.

I put a hand on my hip and stared right back.

His chest rose and fell, steam swirled between us and a heady tension built between my legs and in my stomach. I licked my bottom lip.

He broke his silence. “We have company.”

I stared at his mouth as he spoke. Every second in his presence it became more and more unbelievable that he’d kissed me. “That’s nice.”

“What do you remember about the guns?”

I trailed my gaze down to his throat and the welt that was slightly more faded. “Nothing.”

“Tanner?”

I traced an invisible line from his collarbone, across his wide shoulder and down his massive biceps. “What about him?”

“Do you remember the last time you saw him?”

When I kicked his ass to the curb? “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

Viking had arm porn in spades. “Why?”

“You are going to be questioned about it.”

My head popped up and I met his stare. “What do you mean?”

He tipped his chin toward the shower. “Two minutes then get dressed. ATF is in the living room.” He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

ATF?

I caught my reflection in the mirror and groaned. My hair was a mess, a giant goose egg covered the right half of my forehead and purple bruising surrounded the whole damn thing, blackening the skin under my right eye. I gingerly touched my forehead and winced. Then I dropped the sheet and turned halfway so I could see my back.

Jesus
.

A three-inch-long gouge with what looked like burn marks on the edges was halfway down my back. It was bloodred and some scabbing had started to form but it didn’t look like it was still bleeding.

I’d showered with that?
Had sex?
Oh my God.

Hurting about a thousand times worse than before I’d seen it, I inhaled and told myself to suck it up. Careful not to let the spray hit directly on that part of my back, I got in the shower, soaped up, then rinsed off every part of Viking from last night. I carefully dried myself, finger-combed my hair, then pulled another pair of leggings and a tank top from the bag. I added a zip-up hoodie to the suck-ass outfit and studied myself in the mirror.

I looked familiar but it didn’t trigger any memories. I still had the same brown eyes and thick, wavy, dark brown hair. My cheeks looked a little sunken and the bruising looked like shit. The black hoodie and pants washed out any color I might have had and the tank did nothing to hide my double D’s. Fuck it.

I walked out of the bathroom.

Viking was waiting for me in the bedroom. “Ready?”

My stomach fluttered but not because of the waiting ATF. “What am I supposed to say?”

“If you know the answer to a question, give it.”

“In other words, don’t volunteer any information.”

Viking inclined his head and opened the bedroom door. I stepped into the hall and his hand landed between my shoulder blades. This time, I didn’t recoil. And if I were being honest with myself, I’d acknowledge his touch was reassuring.

I walked into the living room and a tall, lanky man in his thirties who looked like he hadn’t slept in a week stood up from the couch and held his hand out. “Miss Walsh? I’m Special Agent Brad Olsen with the ATF. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

I shook his hand as André walked into the living room from the kitchen with a bottle of water. He came right up to me, almost stepping between me and the agent. “You okay to talk to him?”

Alarmed by the concerned look on his face, I nodded.

André handed me the water. “Let me know if that changes.” He turned to the agent. “Remember, I’m doing you a favor,” he warned.

The agent smiled as if a guy almost twice his size hadn’t just threatened him. “Of course.” He looked at me. “Would you like to sit, Miss Walsh?”

Viking’s hand moved to my shoulder. “Ask your questions.”

The agent pulled out a small notebook and a pen. “Miss Walsh, are you acquainted with a Jason Tanner?”

“He’s the father of my son.”

“And where is he right now?”

“I don’t know.”

The agent frowned. “You don’t know where your son is?”

“I thought you were asking about Jason.”

“Ah, right. No, I wasn’t.” He raised his eyebrows and looked at me expectantly.

I hated slimy fuckers like him. I stared back, purposely not answering.

“Your son?” he prompted.

“With the babysitter.”

“Who is?”

“I can’t see how that’s any of your business.”

He didn’t even pause. “So he’s with this babysitter right now because… you have to work?”

“Someone has to. Jason isn’t paying child support.”

He smiled. “Right. So, where do you work?”

André interrupted. “You already know she works for me.”

“What do you do at Luna and Associates, Miss Walsh?”

“Make coffee.”

“Mm-hm.” He scribbled something on his pad. “Do you live here?”

I crossed my arms. “Do you have anything real to ask me or are you just going to waste my time pretending you don’t already know everything about me, including my bank account balance.”

“Interesting that you would mention your bank account, Miss Walsh.”

“Is it?” He could try to fuck with me all he wanted. If all the years with Jason Tanner had taught me nothing else, it’d taught me how to handle law enforcement.

“When was the last time you saw Jason Tanner?”