Page 39 of New Hope, Old Grudges

His eyes were still ringed with feral hunger, but they were softer now. My eyes were getting heavy as I regarded him, my body at its breaking point.

“Let me clean you up first, baby, before you pass out on me.” he kissed my head again.

He leapt off the bed, and I appreciated his ass as it moved away from me, presumably to a bathroom.

Though I was tired, exhausted, there was no way I was going to pass out with Brody’s cum still warm on my chest.

Except I totally did.

BRODY

It was four in the morning. It had stopped snowing. The storm had passed. The roads would be cleared soon. And I’d be in charge of coordinating a lot of that effort. Small-town sheriff had a lot in the job description. Especially this time of year. There would be tourists not used to the roads, getting in minor wrecks, the normal post-Thanksgiving traffic.

I should be getting up. Making calls. Plans. Making sure there were no more accidents. But I had Willow Watson sleeping on my chest.

I looked down at her. She frowned even in her sleep. She was frowning the day I pulled her over driving into town.Scowlingwould be more accurate. Especially when she recognized me.

I winced at the memory. I hadn’t known then why the breathtaking woman seemed to hate me on sight. The cop thing did that to some people, sure, but with Willow, it had seemed a lot more personal.

And it was.

I lightly brushed some hair from her face, gently tracing the crease between her brows with my thumb, trying to smooth it. Take away her worries. Take away the past.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t do that.

I wanted to hunt down her piece of shit ex and kill him with my bare hands. The need to do that was overwhelming. I told myself I’d left that violent part of me on another continent, I’d retired that part of me, stowed it away with the medals I didn’t feel like I deserved.

But the killer in me was alive and well, and he wanted to avenge any and all damage done to my woman.

My hand stuttered at the thought. I kept a lock of auburn hair between my fingertips, rubbing at the silky strand.

My woman.

Yeah, I’d considered her that for a while.

Her story fucking tore at me. I’d figured that the reason for her coming home when she quite obviously hated it here wasn’t a good one, but …fuck.

My fist clenched around her hair, and she jostled slightly.

I forced my body to relax, not wanting her to wake up and spit fire at me. Not yet, at least. I understood that for her, the battle was far from done.

She’d submitted to me last night, but she’d done it angrily, with all of her fire. And fuck, her ordering me to my knees.

My cock stood at attention at just the thought.

I stroked Willow’s bare back, the skin silky alabaster like the snow outside.

The death of her father had ruined her. I saw that in her eyes when she spoke about him, like he’d died yesterday instead of two years ago. Guilt for not coming back here drowned her in a weight that she didn’t deserve to carry.

I hated that for her. The pain. But I loved that she had a father she loved enough to grieve so completely.

She was so much more complicated than I’d first thought. And pulling her over that day, I’d known she was complicated, from her first scowl. I’d wanted to figure her out. Wanted her to be mine. Wanted her to want to be mine for more than just one night.

On that thought, my hand crept down her back to her glorious ass, cupping it, kneading it then flipping her onto her back.

Her eyes opened suddenly, no sleepy laziness for Willow. Her cheeks flushed as awareness settled over her, then her body tensed.

Before she could open her mouth, convince herself that she still hated me, my hand went between her legs where her pussy was already wet.

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