Wretched Love

“I know this look isn’t exactly… sexy,” I waved at my face, my voice smaller than I liked.

Swiss’s gaze ignited, and he stopped pacing, crossing the distance between us in two long strides before he lifted his hand up to caress my cheek gently. Much too gently.

“You shut that shit up right now,” he commanded, voice husky. “I see those gears turning, thinkin’ about me not wantin’ you, thinkin’ it has somethin’ to do with last night. About me lookin’ at you differently or some shit.”

My body jerked. That had been exactly what I was thinking. That he thought I was somehow dirty or wrong after what I’d told him. Which logically was insane, but considering how raw and unhealed all of that trauma was, it made sense to me.

Swiss frowned at me. “This is not about that,” he stated firmly. “If last night changed anything, it made me want you more, which I didn’t think was possible.” He cupped my cheek slightly harder, and I leaned into his hand, my body singing for him.

But I knew him, I knew his body. I knew the way he tensed before pulling me to him, the fire in his eyes when he was seconds away from making me scream. No, there was none of that now. There was a… distance. A restraint that I hadn’t seen from him. The cords in his neck were hard ridges, his body tensed, coiled.

“I want you, baby.” He shook his head as if he were trying to shake something off. “Fuck do I want you.” His thumb brushed against my swollen lip. “But everything that’s happened to you, everything you’ve shared with me…”

He shook his head again, but this time it was clear that his thoughts were not on sex. His eyes were warm, dark bourbon. “I want you in every way a man could want a woman. I want you on the back of my bike. Want you in my bed. Want you to wear my ring, wear my name inked on your skin, want scars from your nails on my back.” Though his eyes were soft, the words were rough, raspy, and the most beautiful words I’d ever heard in my life.

My stomach bloomed with warmth, settling in my bones like sunshine.

“But that’s what I want,” he added, slapping his sternum. “Me. And I’m selfish. I’m bad. I haven’t done an honorable thing in a very fuckin’ long time. Even now, in the middle of doin’ the only honorable thing I’ll do in my life, I’m second guessin’ myself. I’m fightin’ my instincts to tear off those panties, plant my dick inside you and make you scream.”

My fingertips tingled, and my breathing quickened. Yeah, I really wanted that too. Like, a lot. The panties in question were soaking wet.

Swiss was not immune to my reaction. Fire danced in his eyes, and his body turned even more rigid.

“But,” he gritted the word out with violence. “Kate, you make even the most wretched of men do honorable things if it means they get to keep you.” He bent closer, his forehead resting against mine. “And I intend to keep you.”

His proclamation was a balm, penetrating my skin. My hip, the one with his initials carved into it, throbbed.

“But,” he said again. “Your whole life, you’ve had to live on someone else’s terms. You’ve had a man take things from you ’cause he wanted to keep you. He wanted to mold you into something you weren’t.”

Fury radiated off him as he spoke about Preston. He was a presence between us because he was still living. Because I’d forced Swiss to let him live.

“But I want you,” I whispered.

“And you have me,” he slid his knuckles across my jaw. “For a long time, you’ve got me. For the rest of time, if I’ve got anything to do with it. Which means we’ve got time. To take it slow. Be friends.”

I stared at him, my mouth dropping in shock. Of all the things Swiss could’ve said, I never would’ve guessed that. Not in a million freaking years.

“Friends?” I echoed, my voice dry and scratchy.

He nodded once, frowning, obviously not happy with this decision, but it had been decided nonetheless.

“You want to be friends?” I clarified, because it was all too strange.

Another nod. Slightly more violent than the last.

I stepped back from him, unable to have his hands on me at that moment. “You’ve been inside me.” I folded my arms in front of me. “You’ve been everywhere inside me. You’ve seen and tasted every inch of me. I’ve done the same to you.”

He flinched, telling me that he was not immune to my words.

“You expect us to be friends after that?” I asked in disbelief. “For how long?”

Swiss’s jaw was tight, eyes were solid. Resolute. “For as long as you need. To let you get on your own two feet. To know your own mind.”

Fury bloomed within me. “You don’t think I know my own mind?”

His hands were fists at his sides. This was hard for him. This was hurting him. But in that moment, I didn’t give a crap.

“I think you deserve to get to know yourself without a man gettin’ in the way,” he said softly.