Page 36 of Breaking the Alpha (Serpent’s Tongue Ink #2)
R iver’s fingers tapped out a heavy bass beat on his steering wheel as he tore along the highway, the setting sun bringing with it an autumn chill and a sprinkling of cool rain. Turning on the heat, he eased onto the single lane highway toward home and sped up a fraction.
His phone sat in the cup holder, completely silent thanks to the little power button he used to tune out anything or anyone who might distract him because he needed to keep his focus, needed to keep his goals front and center.
He would never build the life and career he wanted if he lost sight of the road.
Throwing his SUV into park, he turned it off and got out, cursing his healing knee as he jogged up the steps to the front door. He knocked, keeping one hand on the hideous purple giraffe standing guard.
His heart pounded in his chest when the door opened and he saw Angelina for the first time in sixty-four days.
She was as stunning tonight as she always was.
Her wild cinnamon hair was piled high on her head with stray curls falling over her bare shoulders.
Her lips were parted, her amber eyes on his as she took a deep breath.
The movement drew his attention to the body that had been torturing his dreams every night since he walked out her door.
“River? What are you doing here?”
His gaze snapped back up, her voice calling to something deep inside him. “I came home.”
She didn’t speak, didn’t move, didn’t invite him in.
But he hadn’t expected she would.
All he’d hoped was that she’d do what he hadn’t done sixty-four nights ago: listen.
“You were right,” he continued, his fingers aching to touch her.
“I wasn’t being honest. Not with you, not with myself, not with my brothers.
” He grasped the neckline of his shirt and tugged it open.
“The night my arm was snapped, Birch called it our dad’s swan song, his final act before death.
It was because of me that Winter killed our dad.
And it was because of me that Birch and Winter had to sacrifice so fucking much for me and Grey.
All I wanted to do was prove to them it wasn’t for nothing.
They worked so hard to get me out of this town so I could have a chance to be something more than just one of those white trash Baker boys. ”
Angelina’s eyes flashed with anger when he used the words he’d heard nonstop throughout his childhood, but she stayed silent.
“So I did. And I didn’t look back for a long time.
But looking back is all I’ve done for the last two months.
” He took a deep breath and there was a hint of concern on her face until she realized it didn’t pain him to do it.
“I want to be here with you. I want to work at Serpent’s Tongue with my brother and fly out for modeling gigs as they come up.
I want to be around when Grey needs help fixing his car.
I want to see you and Jocelyn sitting on the porch and I want to wonder what you’re gossiping about.
And I want to answer to us. I want my life decisions to be made with you, not because of you or for you or around you.
I don’t want Birch or Winter’s expectations to be the deciding factors in my life.
I don’t want to be at the heels of a woman who sees my flaws first and wants to hide them.
And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life regretting that one stupid, stubborn night I refused to listen to what you were saying. Or not saying.”
Her shuddering exhale tore his heart apart before her words drove a knife into it. “I didn’t just lose you when you left, River.”
“I know. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I get it now.
Hearing how upset Birch was once he found out, knowing Grey was asking him about you, finding out Jocelyn was wondering why you weren’t stopping by…
you lost them. But they lost you, too.” He took a tentative step closer to her, relief washing over him when she didn’t back away.
“I love you, Angel. I miss you. My family misses you. I fucked up and I’m sorry. ”
She licked her lips and her gaze dropped to his hand still gripping the head of the ugly giraffe. “You told me you’d call me when you got home.”
He watched her exhale, his heart aching when he caught the slight shudder.
Taking a step back, he shoved his hands into his back pockets to keep them from reaching for her.
“It took me two months to get home, Angel. But you’re the first call I’m making, right now.
And tomorrow, I’m going to call you again.
And the next day. And every day after that, if you’ll let me.
Now go inside and lock up so I know you’re safe, okay? ”
Her amber eyes finally met his. “You’re leaving?”
“I’ve had time to get my head out of my ass and figure things out. You’ve had four minutes since you opened the door. Besides, I need to get over to the house and tell Birch to take down his ad for a new piercer. Then I have to break it to him that I’m back here for good.”
She inched forward, her feet on the cold metal doorframe. For a split second, she looked like she might reach for him and destroy his resolve to give her the space and time she deserved to think about his words.
But she didn’t.
Clasping the charm around her neck, she retreated a step. “What do you think he’ll say?”
Shrugging as he backed up down the stairs, he smirked. “Considering he’s the one who called me two nights ago to inform me I was a dumbass punk for letting you go, I’m thinking he’ll be okay with it.”
*
Angelina watched River’s taillights as he drove off down her dark street, the vision eerily similar to the last time he’d driven away from her home.
Until his car came to a screeching halt and the red brake lights flared up.
Moments later, the white reverse lights lit up the road and the car tore back, pulling up next to the curb in front of her house with expert precision.
River was out the door and on her porch in a heartbeat, his phone clutched tight in his hand as he towered over her, his green eyes locked on hers with a breathtaking intensity.
“You called me.”
She nodded and took a small step back to keep the intoxicating scent of his aftershave from clouding her rationality.
He moved in closer, almost breaching the invisible barrier of her doorway as he slid his phone into his back pocket. “You called me thirty minutes before I got here.”
With another nod, she inched farther inside, part of her hoping he would follow while another part of her hoped he wouldn’t because she knew her composure would collapse if he touched her, knew that the feigned serenity she’d fought to project for the last two months would crumble at his feet with one kiss.
He reached up and grasped the doorframe, like he needed the anchor to keep himself back. “Why?”
She bit her lip and lifted her gaze to the familiar bracelets on his wrists. “To ask you to come home.”
There was a ripple of tension along his forearms and his fingers flexed. The silence stretched out between them until he spoke, his voice low and hoarse. “Say it again.”
Her breath caught in her throat as she met his eyes and saw the apprehensive hope in them. “I called to ask you to come home.”
When he remained motionless, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest, she stepped in close enough to wrap her fingers around the bloodstone pendant resting between his collarbone. “Are you home for good?”
“I’m home for good,” he replied, his eyes on her lips as she gently tugged on his necklace, pulling him past the unspoken boundary of the doorframe. “Can you forgive me?”
“I did the night you left.” She continued to lead him deeper into her home by the thin leather strips. “Do you still love me?”
His hand covered hers, pulling her to a stop on the stairs leading to her bedroom.
“I’m sorry I made you think it was even possible for me to stop loving you,” he said, his strained voice as guilt-ridden as his face.
“Because you’re it for me, Angel. If you tell me to leave tonight, or you change your mind tomorrow, or you come to your senses in a year, you’ll still be it for me.
I love you so much it fucking hurts to think about too deeply. ”
*
River watched a flurry of emotions flash through Angelina’s eyes before she crushed her lips to his, catching him off guard and almost knocking him backwards down the stairs.
Grabbing the railing to keep them from tumbling, he wrapped his other arm around her, holding her tightly to him as he devoured her with a desperation he was barely keeping in check.
With their tongues and hands tangled in each other, they stumbled up the rest of the stairs, his back slamming into the wall while she shoved his shirt up and over his head.
“Don’t you dare leave me like that again,” she gasped as he yanked her tank top off and spun her, pressing her bare back against the cool plaster and taking one hardened nipple between his teeth.
“Never,” he panted, hooking his thumbs in the band of her shorts and pushing them down. “Never again.”
Seeking out her lips again, he slid his tongue along hers, unable to hold back a moan when she broke the kiss to focus on his neck.
Her tongue flicked along the spot she knew would drive him wild while she unzipped his jeans and palmed him, short-circuiting his brain and sending a shiver down his spine.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” he grunted as she freed his cock and pumped it, her grip on him tight enough to test his control while he slid his fingers through her folds.
“You’re so fucking wet for me.” She whimpered and he pressed his forehead to hers, running his hands down her body to cup her ass. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
She draped her arms around his neck as he lifted her up and her long legs wrapped around his hips while he pushed inside her with the finesse of a jackhammer.
There was nothing sweet or patient or tender in this moment, not when his mind was consumed with the need to be consumed by her in every way possible.
His ragged breathing, hushed curses, and growled declarations competed with her gasps and moans to fill the room. Her head was buried against his shoulder while he pounded into her, her nails digging into his skin as she clung to him.
Her body began to tighten around him and he adjusted his hold on her, tilting her chin up. “Eyes open.”
It was the final connection he was seeking, seeing everything he felt and couldn’t eloquently say reflected back at him.
And nothing else mattered.
Not the plane rides and hotels he would endure every time he returned to LA.
Not the fawning comments of fans or the networking opportunities he might miss.
Not the memories of a house he’d allowed to control him for too long.
Not the fear of Birch’s disappointment in him.
Or Winter’s.
The only thing that mattered was this, he and Angelina together at home where they belonged.
“River,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed as the first waves of her orgasm took over.
Unable to hold back, he captured her lips with his as his release barreled through him.
He could hear his own voice rasping against her mouth, and he hoped she could make out his promises through his incoherent grunts.
As the last of the tremors subsided, he buried his head in the crook of her neck and wondered how he ever thought living without her was possible.