Page 39

Half an hour later, the impatient brat in me starts to tear her way out. I’ve only had two drinks, as I promised I would, and I’ve sipped them and made them last. It’s not my fault that Willa convinced Bullet to make the glass ninety percent gin and ten percent cranberry juice.

Okay, it is my fault.

I’m not drunk really.

The room isn’t swimming and I’m still walking just fine, but I’m starting to feel warm. My mind keeps trailing away from what Willa, Tarynn, Lark, and Ella are saying. It keeps going back over and over Dravin.

The thoughts I had earlier all solidify into one gin-fueled form of clarity that tells me that unless I force Dravin into making a move that shatters all the lines and restraints for good, he’s probably going to do everything in his power not to cross it again.

I know I’m listening to my doubts and not common sense, but my patience is also at an all-time low.

It’s been a long week.

A frustrating one.

One where I’ve wished and ached to be close to Dravin with every single breath.

It’s why I glance around the lounge, spot one of the biker women who is currently unoccupied, sipping a drink and swaying to the music in a tight fitting shredded little black dress with strings hanging off it from every angle.

She has a banging body and she’s beautiful in her own way.

She’s rocking her bleached hair, tatts, and knee high black boots.

She seems happy and confident, not desperate—as these kind of women are always painted to be.

Tarynn is talking about what I should get done to my hair and I feel bad about interrupting her, but if I wait another minute longer, I’ll probably turn into a volcano and go full-on active and erupt.

“Spoiler alert,” I tell the four women. “Dravin isn’t my brother, and I am every bit responsible for what is about to happen in here. I want to say that I’m sorry, but I can’t fully bring myself to apologize right now.”

They gape at me—even Tarynn, who already knew about Dravin—as I whip around, set my drink down on the floor since there aren’t any tables close to us, and stalk right over to the woman I was just watching.

“What are the odds that you’d kiss me just to drive a certain man of mine who doesn’t know he’s mine yet, insane?”

She grins, runs her tongue along her lower lip, then tugs me into her. We’re roughly the same height, but she’s much thinner, with fake breasts. They ram up against my chest right before she thrusts her long fake nails into my hair and seals her mouth to mine.

I freeze, but she knows what she’s doing, selling the hell out of the kiss.

I’ve never kissed a woman before.

I’m hella attracted to women in an artistic way.

I can admire a woman’s beauty, poise, strength, and power.

I’d love to capture women in artistic photographs and there’s nothing like painting the female form.

I adore looking at art that showcases women.

And okay, if I was going to have some super taboo fantasy in my head, it would definitely be two girls and not some poor lady getting rammed by an oversized cock the whole time.

That makes it easier to throw myself into the kiss, licking off bright red lipstick and tasting something fruity on her tongue. The whole time, I know that there’s going to be one hell of a shitstorm going down in here. Soon. Very soon. Probably less than a minute.

It doesn’t last nearly that long before a strong set of hands wrap around my waist. “I’ve got it from here, Steph. Thanks.”

Dravin extricates me politely, but two steps later, he abandons all pretense of dignity and throws me over his shoulder just like the last time I got drunk at a club gathering.

They’re going to think that my super-hot zaddy not brother is a real life caveman soon.

The faster he walks across the room, the more it spins from this angle, and the more worried I am that I fucked up.

Well, fucked up is as fucked up does, and if Dravin’s not going to let me talk or kiss or beg him into doing this, then I’m going to have to break every single one of his rules.

I pick up my head and scream out for whoever’s listening. “He’s not actually my brother. We just said that because it made for a good cover story!”

I don’t know if anyone believes me, but there are hoots and cheers all around the room as Dravin carries me out. No one appears angry or even all that surprised. I’m sure they’ve heard and seen much worse.

I’ve never been so glad that I’m wearing jeans before in my life as when Dravin gets into the darkness of the hallway and his huge palm comes down right on my overturned ass. The denim muffles some of the sting, but not nearly all.

I’m in so deep already that I might as well just keep going.

“Harder, Zaddy,” I moan loudly, putting my super shitty acting skills to good use. “Spank me harder.”

He walks a few more steps, whips me over his shoulder to right me, then corners me up against a door. His face is everything .

Rage. Raging disbelief. Raging despair. Raging desire.

“You’re drunk again. You promised me that you wouldn’t have more than two drinks.”

“First, I’m buzzed. Second, I didn’t have more than two drinks.”

“We both know how you got around that. I’m going to have Bullet’s balls for this.”

“It’s not his fault. I would have kissed that woman sober just to piss you off. It’s just more fun this way.”

“Fun? Quit fucking around, Kael . This is our life.”

“I’m aware, Dravin . Or Viking. Daddy Viking. Vaddie Viking. Whatever it is you’d like to be called.”

“Are you trying to goad me into acting like a bad guy?”

“Yes! It’s so fucking ironic that I was worried about you being all villainous before and it’s odd that I’d want you to do something bad, but for the love of fucking fuck, please just do something !

You’re so worried that you’re going to mess this all up, but the only way that’s going to happen is if you don’t claim me.

I could forgive you if you did and it eventually went to shit, but I’ll never forgive you if you refuse to do anything at all. ”

“That’s not fair.”

“Maybe not, but that’s where I’m at.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Then talk to me!” I hate that it feels like I’m begging, but if this is what needs to happen, I’ll do it. I’ll do it all fucking night. I try to touch his face, but he jerks back. “Tell me what you can. If that’s nothing, then we’ll go from right now. I’m well aware of what I’m getting.”

“You are not.”

“No? Because here I thought I was getting a man who’d risk his life over and over again for his country.

I thought I was getting a man so loyal to my brother that he’d throw away years of his own life, his time, his freedom , just to keep his word when he never should have been asked to do it at all.

You must be a terrible man, hunting down criminals for the government just so they don’t have to get their hands dirty.

You’ve clearly got a real black heart inside of you to put up with me, pose for my paintings, try to be an honorable gentleman against everything you want.

Oh, and restoring an entire bike for someone you met once obviously makes you a terrible person. ”

He finger combs his hair with excessive force, and his lips pull up in a snarl. “You don’t want me. Not if you had a true choice.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Or don’t. Maybe you should stop listening to whatever it is in your head telling you those lies.

They’re patently untrue.” I grasp his arm.

He tries to angle away, but I hold tight.

“For someone who borderline made me an obsession, you’re doing a really good job of running away. ”

“I’m right here.”

“But we’ve talked. It’s so obvious what you want. Why can’t you just believe me? Why can’t you believe in me?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? You just said this is our life, but you’re trying very hard not to live it together.

I let go of his arm and make a fist, placing it over his heart.

“We don’t have the same heart or the same past, but you can live your truth, and I can live mine and maybe we can live them side by side.

This isn’t a see where it goes situation. This is an it goes where we make it. ”

“I’m not trying to fight you,” he growls, but the rasp in his voice betrays how emotional he’s getting. “I’m trying to give you real options, not take them away.”

“Fair enough. But just because I have a choice doesn’t mean I’ll choose to walk.

I know you damn well have serious whiplash.

I get that. But I’m making my position pretty clear right now.

I’ll do everything in my power not to hurt you like I’ve been hurt and not to leave you like everyone else in my life has left me.

I know how painful grief is… how it can be so much better when you have someone to walk through it with.

” I’m fighting tears now, but I’m not going to let them stop me from getting this out.

Who knows if I’ll ever have another chance?

Not just because tomorrow is never guaranteed, but because Dravin could shut me out completely.

“Quit fighting me when the war is out there! We’re not about anything out there.

Not my brother, not the shit that brought us here, not the world.

We’re about you and me and what we want.

I want you, but you want to be scared. So, dig deep, find your balls, and let’s fucking go . ”

That was mean, and borderline too far. If I was sober, I never would have said it or at least encouraged him in a different way. I should have told him that he’s gorgeous inside and out and has the rarest heart in the world.

I suppose I did.

Before I insulted him.

I open my mouth to apologize but his huge hands dip into my hair, framing my face. He backs me against the door.

“Imperfection is the only form of perfection in this life,” I whisper, canting my head up. “You’re my light in all this dark, Dravin.”