Neil (The Uncompromising Series Book 2) (21 page)

The pressure near my wound receded and my nipples hardened. I covered my breasts with my arms. “Why wouldn’t I have?”

“You would not have trusted my reasons for asking. And you told me you did not date.”

I looked over my shoulder at him. His features were too rugged to be beautiful but there was no other way to describe him. He was striking. And he was right. I wouldn’t have trusted a man who looked like him asking me out and I wasn’t going to put my son through the bullshit of another failed relationship. Conner deserved more than that.
I
deserved more than that. “I think I like the old me.”

A seriousness that was ingrained in his personality settled into his features. “This does not surprise me.”

“Does anything surprise you?”

“I have learned to expect the unexpected.”

“Was Candle unexpected?”

His chest rose and fell with a breath then his hand settled on my waist. “You are unexpected.”

I dropped my gaze and for a single moment, I let the warmth of this man’s touch blanket everything. I breathed in the strength that radiated off him and told myself everything was going to be okay. But it was a lie. “My back hurts,” I murmured.

“It is a flesh wound.” His hands skimmed up my sides and he pushed my bra straps off my shoulders. “It will sting until it heals.” He reached for the kit while keeping one hand on my shoulder.

It more than stung. “Okay.”

He pulled something out of the kit. “Do you remember how this happened?”

“No.” Cool gel smeared across my back and I flinched.

“Antibiotic ointment,” he explained, gently spreading his thumb across my wound. “You suffered a head injury as well. I did not think the impact was strong enough to give you a concussion.”

I glanced over my shoulder again but his eyes were trained on my back. “What does that mean?”

His gaze cut to mine. “It is human nature to protect oneself. Extreme conditions can cause mental disassociation.”

Mental
? “You’re saying I’m crazy?”

“Twelve men fired weapons at us. You were their prime target.”

I blinked.

“It is not an unreasonable conclusion that you blocked out what happened.”

He was right. It wasn’t unreasonable. But I’d never run away from anything in my life. I took care of my son and I didn’t ask for anything from anyone. So telling me that I broke down and lost my shit? Went crazy? I refused to believe it. “Are you finished?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I stepped away from him and scooped my shirt up. Holding it to my chest, I faced him head-on. “I need a shower.”

He inclined his head toward a hallway. “Guest room on the left.”

“Great.” My heels clicking across the shiny floor, I squared my shoulders and put as much
I’m not fucking crazy
into my strut as I could.

Ignoring the bedroom that was nicer than any hotel I’d ever seen, I strode across the thick carpet and went straight to the bathroom. Of course it was as fancy as the rest of the condo, marble and granite everything. If this was his guest bath, I couldn’t imagine the master. I didn’t want to. I wanted to go home to my worn-out secondhand couch and cuddle with my son. I didn’t give two fucks about four showerheads and a digital water temperature display. I could probably buy a new Toyota with what this shit cost.

I stripped down and thought about throwing my rank clothes out but I didn’t have anything else to wear. So I shook out the ruined blouse, laid everything on the counter and stepped into the glass-enclosed shower.

The heat from the water stung my skin and the pressure on my back burned. I didn’t care. I soaked my hair and stood under that spray with my head down for I don’t know how long. Then I scrubbed every inch of my body like I could wash away a kidnapping and two dead bodies. Maybe I was in shock, maybe I was just too tired, or maybe Viking had been right about his stupid disassociation theory, but I didn’t cry. I just wanted my son and my bed.

My mind on Conner and worrying how he was doing without me, I shut off the shower, pushed the door open and almost ran smack into Viking.

Showered and freshly shaved, he was dressed in a fitted, dark charcoal V-neck T-shirt, cargo pants and new boots. His eyes solidly locked on mine, he held a towel up. “I will dress your wound.”

His statement, as if it justified his intrusion, lifted the fog of pseudo calm I’d had in the shower and I snatched the towel. Anger mixed with an awareness between my legs that I hadn’t felt in years and I wanted to lash out. At him, at Jason, at that fucking asshole Candle. But mostly, I wanted to wipe the expressionless mask off Viking’s face. I wanted him to look at me like a man looks at a woman. I wanted his eyes on my tits. I wanted him hard just thinking about my body. I wanted power and I wanted it now. “Pretty sure I closed the door.” I didn’t wrap the towel around myself, I used it to squeeze the water from my hair.

His jaw ticked. “Dry your back.”

I slowly folded the towel around myself then crossed my arms because I knew what it looked like when I pushed my tits together. “You do whatever you want, when you want, don’t you?”

The red welts on his neck and wrist and the three-inch cut under his eye that now had something slightly shiny covering it made him look even more impenetrable. “No.”

I wanted to ignore the assault of awareness his presence was giving me. I wanted to not be crawling out of my own skin with emotions I didn’t know how to control. I wanted him to not smell like a fucking fantasy come to life. “Yet here you are, waiting outside my shower like you have a right to see me naked.”

A cloud descended over his features. “Ask,” he demanded.

“Ask what?” I knew what.

“If I have slept with you.”

I couldn’t read his shift. I didn’t know if the lines between his brows were anger or desire or frustration because I didn’t know this man. I couldn’t even remember more than a single car ride. But I knew myself and I would never get involved with someone like him. “I don’t need to.”

“Because?”

“We didn’t.”

His gaze darkened and his voice dropped. “One of the many reasons you intrigue me.”

My thighs pressed together and I fought the urge to lick my lips despite the surge of anger his words provoked. “I’m not your plaything.”

His shoulders curved toward me and his penetrating gray-blue stare made me feel like I was the only woman he’d ever looked at. “Let go of the towel,” he ordered.

A man’s voice I didn’t recognize boomed through the condo. “Where is she?”

Viking turned and blocked the bathroom door with his massive frame. “Clothes,” he demanded at the intruder.

“Step aside right fucking now or I’ll—”

The words died on his lips as Viking turned just enough for him to see me.

The man pushed past Viking and dropped a bag at my feet. “
Dios mios
,” he muttered.

A few inches shorter than Viking but still a mass of muscles that didn’t come from any gym, the dark-haired, brown-eyed man pulled me into his arms. The scent of soap and something metallic filled my head and I stiffened.

“Stand down,” Viking snapped.

The man released me but he took my face in his hands and inspected my head. Gentle fingers brushed over my forehead and I flinched. “No concussion?”

A string of foreign words ripped from Viking’s throat.

The man’s eyes narrowed but he finally stepped back from me. “You don’t remember me?”

Clutching the towel, feeling more exposed than I ever had, I shook my head.

Viking’s hand landed on my nape and he pulled me to his side as he bit out the man’s name in warning. “André.”

André took in Viking’s hand on me. “Do you remember Conner?”

I nodded. Something about the man was familiar and my brain was trying so hard to make a connection but I couldn’t put the pieces together.

“Jason?”

He knew Jason? I nodded again.

“The guns?”

I didn’t get a chance to answer. Viking answered for me. “Enough.”

André held his hands up like he was acquiescing but his gaze shot daggers at Viking. “All right, all right, I hear you.” He looked at me and his expression softened. “Can I speak with you alone a minute?”

“No,” Viking boomed. “Living room, now.”

André picked up the bag he’d dumped right before hugging me and held it out. “Sorry they’re not your own clothes but your place is too hot right now to go there.”

“Thanks.” Holding my towel in place with one hand, I took the bag with the other.

Viking’s thumb stroked the side of my neck and he lowered his voice as he took the tension in the room to a whole new level. “Wait for me in my bedroom, end of the hall on the right.”

My pussy throbbed, anger flared and I pushed past them both but not before I saw the judgment on André’s face. I stormed into Viking’s bedroom, slammed the door and threw the bag on his perfectly made bed. His scent hit me full force but it wasn’t the scent of him from the warehouse. Nothing about the spicy musk was laced with blood or sweat. His bedroom was all man and in that moment, it was more intoxicating than the thought of getting my memory back.

Cursing at myself, I rooted through the clothes and dug out a pair of leggings and a tank top that was about two sizes too small in the chest. I pulled the pants on and was stretching the tank over my tits when I heard the front door close then the bedroom door opened.

Still pissed about his little stunt in the bathroom, I didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning to look at him. “Got rid of your friend already? You didn’t give me enough time to riffle through your drawers.” I yanked the top down but it did nothing for support. “I didn’t even count the number of condoms in your dresser yet.”

He strode to the opposite side of the bed and wrenched the nightstand drawer open. “None.” He glared at me as if daring me to challenge him.

Challenge accepted. My hands went to my hips. “If you’re celibate, I’m the fucking tooth fairy.”

His nostrils flared and for a single second, I was thankful for the king-sized bed between us—until he took three strides and stopped directly in front of me. His voice went low and threatening. “Not celibate.”

I didn’t move an inch. I stood my ground. “Good for you. Screw a bunch of women without protection, that’s
awesome
.”

“Watch your mouth.”

Thick sexual tension seeped in anger and fear clawed its way out of me. “
Fuck you
.”

He moved so quick, I never saw it coming. His hand was on my throat, my shoulders hit the wall, and he was in my face. “You want to be fucked?”

My wound smarted and desire shot through my veins. Pounding and incessant, it landed right between my legs and I licked my lips. “Only if you can deliver.” I taunted the hell out of him.

“Keep testing me,” he warned.

“And what? You’ll kiss me?”

He leaned closer. “You want to be kissed, take your pants off.”

“So it’s like that, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Funny, I didn’t peg you for a virgin-whore complex. But, hey?” I shrugged. “To each his own.”

His entire demeanor changed without him moving a muscle. The tension of his anger bled into an awareness so thick, I could feel it coat my skin and crawl up my spine. His thumb glanced across my jaw with calculated precision and chill bumps raced across my skin. “Do you think I am not aware of what you are doing?”

Oh, he knew. “You know exactly what I’m doing but you still won’t kiss me. Or fuck me.”

His free hand executed a precise shot and cupped me. “You do not want me to kiss you.” One finger stroked my entire length.

Wetness surged and I fought a moan. He was so wrong. “You have no idea what I want.” I wanted to escape. A minute, an hour, a lifetime—shit—a single breath that wasn’t laced with fear and memory loss.

“You want a release.” His palm ground on my clit.

I didn’t know if it was a question or a statement and I didn’t care because he was right. A moan escaped my lips.

His breath landed on my cheek. “
Kan du lide dette
?” He increased the pressure between my legs and let go of my neck to shove my shirt up.

Cold air hit my nipples. His hand ground a slow circle on my clit as he roughly grabbed my breast. I had no idea what he’d said and I didn’t care. Desperate to get rid of the shit going on in my head, I reached for him and my hands landed on the hardest biceps I’d ever felt. “I don’t wanna talk. I just wanna fuck.” Screw my promise to myself. “One time.” It wouldn’t kill me.

His hands dropped, heat left my body and he abruptly stepped back.

I sucked in a surprised breath.

Unforgiving and relentless, he glared at me. “No.” Then he walked out.

Stunned, I stood there a moment. Then the humiliation sank in and I yanked my shirt back in place. Scurrying down the hall, I didn’t breathe until I was in the guest room with the door locked. I leaned on the frame and sucked in breath after breath, willing myself not to cry. But his rejection tipped me over the edge and I lost the battle. Tears dripped down my face and I sank to the floor. I pressed my hands to my mouth but the sob escaped. Then another.

The door handle rattled then a fist pounded on the solid wood. “Open!” Viking demanded.

I cried harder.

“
Ariella
.”

I wanted my son. God, I wanted my son.

The door burst open and giant arms slipped under me before I could scramble away. Viking brought me to his chest and we were moving.

“I hate you,” I cried.

“You are angry.” He sat down on the couch in the living room but he didn’t release me.

“Let me go.” I struggled but his arms tightened.

“I should not have touched you.”

I wanted to hit him. “You humiliated me.”

“That was not my intent.”

Big ugly tears dripped down my face and I choked back a sob.

“Shh, you are safe.”

I didn’t want him to comfort me. Everything about this felt wrong. He wasn’t a soother. I didn’t want his pity. And I wasn’t safe. Not with him, not at my place, probably not anywhere. The thought made me cry harder but I desperately didn’t want to cry in front of this man. Unable to stop the floodgates, I squeezed my eyes shut.