Neil (The Uncompromising Series Book 2) (4 page)

“Hey!” I struggled but his arms tightened. “Put me down.”

“No.” He pushed the passenger door shut with his shoulder and started toward my complex.

Going from blissful sleep to heart-pounding surprise in two seconds flat, I panicked. “Where’s Conner?” I tried to look over Viking’s shoulder but he was a wall of muscle.

“Already inside.” He hit the first flight of stairs.

“You left him alone?”
Oh my God
. “That’s not safe!” I kicked against his hold.

As if I weighed nothing, he curled his arms in and lifted. I smashed against his chest and air whooshed out of my lungs. His gaze fixed on mine and he halted midstep. “Calm down.”

“You calm down!” My heart racing, my breath coming in short bursts, I didn’t know why I was so upset but I was.

His tone took a one-eighty and a soft cadence started flowing out of his mouth. “He is asleep in his crib and the door is locked. He has only been alone for two minutes. He is safe.”

His reassurance worked. My heart continued to pound erratically because his arms were too strong and he smelled too good, but my anxiety disappeared like smoke in the wind. I grasped for something logical to say. “My keys.”

He nodded. “I have them.”

We were so close, a few inches and I could kiss him. But I couldn’t imagine Viking kissing. Or caressing, or doing anything affectionate besides holding my son. “You can put me down now.”

“You are not wearing shoes.” He redirected his unwavering stare and we were moving again.

My arms wrapped around his neck and I pretended I got carried all the time. But I didn’t. I’d never been picked up by a man, let alone carried. I wasn’t a hundred-pound supermodel. I had thighs and hips and curves all over, and Viking wasn’t even breaking a sweat. He rounded the first flight and took the second as if carrying a hundred-and-forty pounds of woman was nothing. And because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, I said the first thing that popped out. “You’re strong.”

“You are stubborn,” he countered.

I was this close to a snappy retort of denial but I caught myself. “I’m independent.” There was a difference.

He didn’t reply. He stopped at my front door and without putting me down, somehow managed to use my key and let us in. Once we were inside, he closed the door then carefully let go of my legs.

Needing distance from him, I turned but his hand shot out and caught my wrist. Thick fingers wrapped around my skin and heat raced up my arm.

I tried to retreat. “I have to check on Conner.”

His hold tightened. “Your cell phone has a broken screen. There is no TV but there is a TV stand. Half the apartment is unfurnished and there is no milk in the refrigerator for the child.”

Out of all of the reasons why I thought he would’ve grabbed my wrist, none of them were even close to the actual words that came out of his mouth. “Are you calling me a bad mother?”

One of his nostrils flared but his voice stayed even. “You had money for the dress.”

Unbelievable hurt crushed my chest and I lashed out. “You have no right to judge me.” I yanked my arm free and made it a whole step.

He caught my shoulder and in one swift move, he pulled. My back hit his chest, his fingers dug into my upper arms and his breath landed on my ear. “I neither presume nor judge. Fact is fact. Why have you not said something to Luna? He has company phones and apartments.”

I snorted because I was embarrassed. Yeah, my boss had a bunch of extra cell phones and yes, he owned the building the office was in and it had apartments on the upper floors. There was even a parking garage and a gym and a fancy elevator that actually worked. I knew that. I knew all of it, but just because I was a twenty-one-year-old single mother didn’t mean I was a fucking charity case. “I don’t need handouts.” I spit the words out with enough force to hopefully make them true.

“Then what do you need?”

The question took me off guard, not because he asked it or even the reason why he was asking, but because of his tone. Gentle, filtered, it was almost as if he cared. But I was smarter than the eighteen-year-old version of myself. Much smarter. And I knew men didn’t care. “I need you to take your hands off me.”

His thumbs drew slow, deliberate circles across my bare shoulders and he lowered his voice. “You do not like me touching you?”

The sweet lick of desire mixed with alarm and swept through my veins. Every inch of my body stilled as I tried to process his shift. “What?”

“You heard me.”

My heart raced. “Is this some kind of alpha hot-cold bullshit to throw women off their game?”

“I do not play games.”

I thought I’d wanted to be alone with this man. I’d dreamt about it. Strong, unyielding, I thought about what it would be like to have him protecting me, shielding me… making love to me. But now that he was here, I knew I’d been a fool. Viking didn’t make love and he wouldn’t shield me from shit. Stupid fucking fantasy. “Then what are you doing?”

His palms skimmed up my arms and over my shoulders. “What are you afraid of?”

Him. His touch. What happened to my heart every time he held Conner. But I didn’t say that. I stepped out of his grasp and carefully didn’t look at him because from the second I’d first laid eyes on him, I swore he could see into my soul. “Nothing.”

“Turn around, Ariella.” His quiet command took up my whole living room.

Ignoring him would only draw attention to the wounded heart I desperately hid. I was never again going to let a man take my trust and crush it. Being left with a newborn and bills was one thing, but falling for a warrior like Viking? That was emotional suicide. So I sucked in a breath, pasted on a bored expression and turned.

Viking’s gaze swept across my face like he could read my thoughts then he did something completely out of character for him. He shook his head.

My face burned. “What?”

He tipped his chin toward Conner’s room. “Go. Check on your son.”

Refusing to let him get to me, I strode to what used to be my mother’s bedroom and went to the crib pushed into a corner. Perfectly tucked in, his little security blanket folded next to him in case he woke up, my baby was sound asleep. Awareness crawled up my spine and I glanced over my shoulder.

Viking stood in the doorway.

I left a kiss on Conner’s forehead and tiptoed back out. Viking let me pass then pulled the door shut.

I’d never been more aware of another man—the reach of his arm, the crisp fabric of his shirt, the control in his movements. He took up my entire hallway and left me no room to breathe. “Thanks for putting him down,” I murmured, forcing the words past my lips.

In a stance that belied the sheer strength of him, Viking casually leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. For the first time, he let his eyes wander. Dropping his gaze to my lips, he did a slow sweep down my neck, across my breasts and over my hips. He took in the length of my bare legs and heat flushed across my skin as if he were touching every inch of me.

“Are you frightened of me?” His deep, quiet voice didn’t bend the silence, it owned it.

Hating how he made me feel both insignificant and like the only woman alive, I tried to swallow past the sudden dryness in my mouth. “No.”

His chest rose with a steady inhale then he pushed off the wall and took a step toward me. “When I ask a question, I want the truth.”

My heart raced and every fantasy I’d ever had of him flew through my mind unchecked. Except none of them left me as terrified and breathless as he was making me now. “Yes,” I whispered. “You scare me.”

“Turn around.”

This was bad. Really bad. I couldn’t handle a man like him. I didn’t
want
to handle a man like Viking. I was Conner’s mother. Nothing else. I needed to be nothing else. But every cell in my body was aching to do exactly as he commanded.

“Now.”

I spun on shaking legs.

Spicy musk filled my nostrils and his warm breath touched my cheek. “I will not hurt you.”

“I wouldn’t let you if you tried.” Any sort of bravado I might’ve had was completely wiped out by the ridiculously high pitch to my voice.

“Did you trust me with your child today?”

“Yes.” I wouldn’t lie about that.

“Then trust me now.” His finger traced a line from just below my ear to my collarbone. “Drop your head.”

I trembled but the command blanketed my racing heart and my chin fell to my chest.

Calloused fingers wrapped around my nape and my zipper slid down my back.

Cold air hit my spine with a shock of reality and I sucked in a panicked breath. “Neil, we need to talk about—”

“Do you want to be with your son’s father?” Firm, warm, electrifying, his hand brushed down the middle of my back.

Just like his voice, his touch was commanding and I answered his question without thinking. “He’s gone.” But he’d be back. The next time he needed money or a place to crash or something else he thought he could use me for.

Viking’s fingers pressed into the sore muscles of my lower back as if he knew holding Conner and wearing five-inch heels had taken a toll. I shuddered at the bite of pain followed by the release of tightness.

He slipped his hands further inside my dress and curled his fingers around my hips. “Are you with anyone?”

God, it felt good having him touch me. “I don’t do relationships.” Or one-night stands, I reminded myself.

“The boy’s father?”

Apparently eight hours with him had worn me down, because I didn’t even flinch at his abrupt manner of questioning anymore. “He was the last,” I admitted.

His thumbs rubbed hard, slow circles. “Why?”

An ache pooled between my legs and I didn’t even try to fight the moan. “Because… reasons.”

His hands went perfectly still. “Which are?”

I didn’t want to think about my promise to myself. Not now. “It doesn’t matter.”

His lips nearly ghosted across the back of my neck. “Tell me.”

His breath on my skin, the low timbre of his voice, it made my head swim and suddenly I needed to catch my breath. The spice of his cologne mingled with the musk that was all him and I wanted to breathe it in forever, but this was Viking. No question or action would make him anything different than cold and unattainable. “I don’t rehash the past.”

“Your pulse is racing,” he accused.

What the hell did he think would happen when he decided to play massage therapist? “Your hands are on me.”

“What did he do to you?”

Besides give me a baby and a complex? Nothing. Shame set in and two years of celibacy crawled up my conscience and bit me in the ass. “Was this your plan? Get me half-undressed and interrogate me? Let go.” I tried to step away.

His grip tightened like shackles. “Tell me what happened and I will.”

After years of stripping and having to protect myself, it was instinctual—I brought my leg up, fully intending to slam my heel down anywhere I could connect.

Quicker than I could blink, I was spun around and on my tiptoes as his giant hand caught my jaw. Fierce gray eyes penetrated my rebellious stare and destroyed my defiance. “I said I would not hurt you but if you kick me, I make no promises.”

“Is that what gets you off?” My words were biting but my voice shook. “Inflicting pain on women?”

His grip loosened and my feet went flat on the worn carpet. “You are tired and you are defensive.” He reached around me and pushed my bedroom door wide open. “Go to bed.” He released me and stepped back.

My dress hanging open, my pride in the fucking toilet, I fought back stupid tears and lifted my chin in defiance. “You’re an asshole.”

His jaw ticked as his chest rose with an inhale. “Good night, Ariella.”

Viking turned and walked out.

F
OR THE FIRST TIME IN
as long as I could remember, I wasn’t woken by Conner. My cell quietly chirped and I pried my eyes open. Pitch dark, I glanced at the alarm clock. It wasn’t even six a.m. yet. The phone buzzed again and I reached for it.

Unable to see who it was because of the shattered screen, I grabbed it off the nightstand and answered anyway. “Whoever this is, it’s too early.”

“Come to the front door.” Viking’s deep voice sank to my stomach in a flurry of unwanted anticipation.

In thong underwear and nothing else, I sat up. “I’m not dressed.” Taken off guard by not only his early morning call but his request after not hearing a single word from him in over a week, it was the best response I could come up with.

“Now,” he ordered.

“No.” Asshole. I hung up and lay back down, pulling the covers over my head. I was turning on my side and telling myself I wasn’t curious as shit when his quiet voice filled the room a second before my bed dipped.

“Where is your phone?” Viking turned my lamp on low.

I pulled the covers off my head and blinked against the light, acutely aware of the fact that I was almost naked. “What the fuck?” I whisper-hissed. “You
broke in
?” In a T-shirt and jeans, smelling like he’d just showered, not only did he look a thousand times hotter than I remembered, but he looked too damn awake for this hour of the morning.

“Give me your phone,” he demanded.