Page 37

CHAPTER 37

Billie

I somehow got stuck here for dinner… and, of course, dessert, which I baked. I’m pretty sure most know that, but for Eli’s sake, we’re pretending it was Jewel.

Ford is sitting across from me because I purposely took the seat beside Hawke instead, not trusting myself to sit so close to him. Everyone’s discussing random bits about their week, but mostly, Ivy is monopolizing the conversation about her recent sexual conquests that Jewel seems invested in. Which only makes Eli jealous. Hawke then starts comparing his recent conquests, and it turns into this overtly sexual conversation about positions that then leads to the blood play my cousin and his wife favor. Eli doesn’t seem at all okay with her discussing their sex life, but he doesn’t stop her, a very male pride oozing off him.

The conversation then somehow turns to guns, and Jewel can’t stop talking about her favorites.

Someone asks Ford a question. He hasn’t spoken the entire time. His head is bent, and he’s playing on his phone, which is a usual thing. It’s not until recently that I concluded it’s one of the things he does to occupy himself.

My eyebrows dip when my phone vibrates. When I check it, there’s a text from Ford.

Ford: I really want to be up that dress right about now.

I put the phone down without replying.

And then it vibrates again.

Ford: Excuse yourself. Now.

I look up and find him watching me. I put down the phone again and turn to Hawke, listening to whatever he’s discussing. Something about fighting with his bare hands, I think.

“Billie, I need vanilla extract. Show me what it looks like,” Ford says, cutting across the conversation like a sharpened blade. Everyone looks at him, and Hawke starts laughing.

“Man, you don’t even know how to turn on an oven.” And I know that’s the truth because when I’ve baked at his house, he seems baffled, like I’m using some kind of witchcraft. But with what I recently learned about him, I think he was most likely making notes. He could probably perfect some of the hardest recipes within a year with his apparent addictive personality.

“I was attempting to make our parents a cake for their anniversary. Maybe you should fucking help,” he snaps at Hawke, who raises his hand in defense.

“No fucking thank you. That woman’s poisoned us so much with her cooking that I think if I were to return the favor, she’d put a bullet in my head.”

“Or a stiletto,” Ivy says casually as she takes a sip of her drink.

“Ooh. I heard about that. Is it true? Did Anya kill a man with her stiletto?” Jewel asks.

“Yep,” Hawke says proudly.

“Maybe you should just pay Billie to do it,” Eli suggests, and Jewel smirks. “We all know none of us can bake for shit compared to her.”

He ignores everyone else, his focus solely on me.

“Vanilla extract?” he asks again, then turns to Jewel. “I can take yours, right?”

Jewel nods, but she probably doesn’t even know what it looks like either. That’s confirmed when she says to me, “You’ll show him, right?”

That simmering fire stokes in my stomach because, of course, Ford is conniving enough to figure out how to get me alone when I’m trying my hardest to ignore him.

“Of course.” I stand at the same time Ford does. I excuse myself and walk through the door into the kitchen. The minute the door shuts, a set of hands are on me and pushing me forward.

“What are you—” My words cut off when his hands slide around my ass and lift me. My legs wrap around his waist as he carries me to the pantry and closes us in the dark. The only light available is from the small crack at the bottom of the door.

I feel his length pushing against me as his lips waste no time finding mine. I’m overstimulated as he consumes me, my hands bunching in his shirt to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. I feel starved and deprived from all the times he wouldn’t kiss me before. And now he’s eating at my mouth without restraint. And, fuck me, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us .

I can’t think straight as my body reacts naturally to his, so certain in my desire for him.

He holds me up with one arm as he undoes his trousers, then I feel his cock pushing against my underwear. My hips grind against him, a small whimper crawling up my throat as all my inhibitions fade, and I’m dragged back into a world where he was all I knew, where he was all I wanted.

“You taste so fucking good. You’re my favorite sweet,” he says between kisses, and I believe him. Even if I don’t know what we are or what we will ever become… I believe him. My body trusts him. And it’s just my heart that falters. And that’s what hurts because of how desperately I want this.

Of how desperately I fight against the undeniable need to have it.

To have him .

I slide my hand into the neck of his shirt and dig my nails into his back as he trails worshipping kisses down my neck.

He lifts me a little higher, and his cock at my entrance, only a scrap of thin fabric keeping him out. He slides my panties to the side, and his lips pause on my neck.

“Have you missed me?” he murmurs.

I don’t reply. Fuck him and his magnificent cock.

“Tell me, Chaos.” His cock is teasing me, the head pressed against me so I can feel him but can’t have him.

I lean back and glare at him, furious that he’s dangling the bait in front of me. I can’t say it. I can’t tell him how much I’ve missed him. It’s not fair to either of us. But all this restraint has been killing me inside every day. And now it’s bubbling over and pouring into me as I rip at his clothes.

“Do you want to hit me?” he asks, and I nod. It’s not sane, and it’s intensely fierce. But I would rather hit the man I love than tell him I miss him. Because that’s our twisted language, and I know it gets him off.

“Hit me,” he orders. I’m hesitant, but he bites my bottom lip, dragging with his teeth. When he releases my lip, he growls, “I like it rough. Now, fucking hit me.” He bites my lip again, harsher this time, and I swear I taste blood. I react, slapping him across the face. A deadly smirk appears as he shoves me forcefully onto his cock.

“Fucking perfect.” He groans as I gasp, trying to adjust to his size. Then he starts moving, and I forget about everything and anything we ever fought about. I can only feel us in this moment. This thing that I’ve begged for and cried over for months now. It’s in the palms of my hands, where it should always be.

“Go on, Chaos, scar me with those fucking perfect nails.” I hold on to him as he pulls our bodies flush with each other and moves me like he’s done so many times before.

But this time, it’s desperate. Unhinged.

Shaking me at my core as we hate, kiss, and torture one another after months of deprivation and frustration.

But why does it feel so good?

I dig my nails into his back, breaking his skin and carving it with my nails. And I know that he fucking loves it. And it’s never felt more right.

“Tell me you missed me,” he pleads.

I can feel myself about to come already. He thrusts in harder, and as I start to cry out, he kisses me again. We’re biting, sucking, and marking as he rips his lips from mine. “Say it!” he demands, gripping my ass painfully tight.

“I-I missed you.” I pant out the confession. I can’t help it. It’s true. And he knows it. I come, and he follows right behind me, jerking inside me, kissing me gently through the aftershocks as if he can’t get enough. He strokes my hair from my face, his tongue dominating mine, as I melt into him, overstimulated by the harshness of his claiming and the gentleness of his kiss.

A kiss that I always had to ask for.

Always demanding that he give me more.

And now he’s giving it to me when we’ve already decided we’re done.

I’m shaking and panting as I shove him, reality setting in that everyone is literally a room over from us. Fuck . We’re out of our goddamn minds. I try to unwrap my legs, but he grips me to him.

“Come home with me tonight.”

“No,” I tell him as my feet touch the floor. Fixing my dress, I don’t even bother looking at him as I open the door and slip out. I need to run away from this situation because I just betrayed my own resolve.

“Ummm.” I startle at the sound of Jewel’s voice. “Did you find the vanilla extract?”

Just then, the pantry door opens, and Ford steps out, doing his pants up with one hand and holding a bottle of vanilla extract in the other.

“Got it.”

Jewel bites her bottom lip, nods once, then leaves. There’s no fucking way she doesn’t know. We’re so bad at this. We might be addicted to lying and sneaking around, but the bigger this secret is, the worse we become at hiding it.

I turn back to find him staring at me as if he’s bracing for what I’m about to say or do. His cheek is a stark red from where I slapped it, and a part of me feels a little guilty. That is until the voice of my brother rings out through the house. Both of our gazes snap in the direction of the door.

“He can know,” Ford says.

“Know what?” Dutton asks as he pushes through the door.

I school my features, giving him a fake smile as I lean up to give him a hug.

“I ended things with Matthew,” I tell him. He releases me and meets my eyes.

“Good.” He nods to Ford and then notices the handprint on his cheek.

He looks between us. “Why do you have a handprint on your face?”

“I slapped him because he slept with one of my friends.” I lie with such ease that I almost believe it myself.

“Oh,” Dutton says, and I’m not sure if he’s taking the bait. “It’s not Ivy, is it?”

“Ew,” Ford and I both say at the same time. And I know she would share the sentiment. “No, a college friend.”

Ford’s clenching his jaw, probably pissed that I’ve lied yet again. But what does he expect me to do in a roomful of knives, which just so happen to be my brothers’ favorite weapon?

“Is Posie with you?” I ask Dutton as he reaches into the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water.

“No, she’s working, and said under no circumstances am I to interrupt her,” he grumbles. I follow behind him when he leaves the kitchen, not wanting to be left in the same room with Ford again because look what just happened even though I told myself it would never happen again.

I have no self-control around him.

I’d become cocky over the last month, thinking I could deny myself what I know he has to offer.

I feel weak.

Careless.

And like this thing between us has taken on a life of its own.

My brother takes a seat, then grabs a slice of cake and takes a bite. He turns and looks at me just as Ford comes through the door.

“Jewel made it,” Eli says, and Dutton raises a brow at me.

“You made this. It’s Mom’s recipe.” Dutton states the obvious. Everyone’s attention turns to me, and I look at Jewel, who is sitting there chewing her lip.

It’s ridiculous how I’ve become addicted to lying lately.

“Nope, I helped. That’s all,” I chirp.

Ford takes the seat opposite me. He’s furious, I can tell. He doesn’t even glance at me as he picks up his phone and ignores the conversation around him. Just as I think how rude he’s being, my phone lights up, and I see that he’s texted me yet again.

I lean into the conversation circulating the room, trying to ignore my phone. It’s distracting every time it lights up. I know it’s him. I can also feel him looking in my direction every time I speak. I’m so hyperaware of everything he does.

“He can know.”

Ford said it, but I immediately denied anything happening between us. And as much as I’ve hated on him these last few months, I realize he has a point. He’s been my dirty little secret. I always thought it was because I was too scared of how my brother would react, but Ford’s been willing to hit that head-on. I’ve just been too scared to give my heart over to him entirely.

I’m a fucking coward.

But sometimes, we run away from the precise thing that we’ve been asking for.

After sitting in the tension and self-flagellation for another thirty minutes, I decide to take my leave. Ivy says she’s going to stay, most likely because she’s four drinks in with Jewel, but I’m not exactly feeling social tonight.

I make up an excuse that I have some work to finish and say my goodbyes. Jewel follows me out.

“Thank you for helping today. I know no one believes I baked any of that stuff, but it’s the thought that counts, right?” she says with a shrug. I like that she makes these excuses up so that everyone can come and spend time together. My understanding is she doesn’t really have any family of her own, and I’m glad she’s starting to accept that she’s now part of ours. I never thought Eli would find love, but I’m glad he has it.

I give her a hug, surprised when she pulls me in tighter. “Your secret is safe with me. But if you two continue to do that, the others will find out. You were sloppy today.” My heart stalls at that because I know exactly what she’s talking about, and part of me wonders if she’s always known.

Does everyone know? Are we that bad at keeping it a secret?

But it’s only me who still wants to keep it that way.

“Thank you,” I whisper as my stomach drops to the floor, truly considering if it would be so bad if my brother found out. But my heart squeezes, terrified by how he’ll react because I don’t want him to hurt the only man I’ve ever loved.