Page 79 of Hexes and Exes

Bram stares at me, the darkness in his aura swirling angrily. He takes a deep breath and the darkness fades. He’s still agitated, but it’s not as bad as when he walked into the room.

“I had a conversation with my father.”

“Those are always fun.”

Bram sinks down to the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh. “He basically said it’s my mother’s fault that I have a curse.”

“That’s bullshit.” I stay in my seat in the corner. Bram is bristling. I’m afraid if I make any sudden movements, he’ll tell me to leave. I shouldn’t even be here. I should have more self-restraint, but I don’t. I’ve missed him. Every single day.

“Yeah, well, everything he said was a lie. He basically admitted to doing the ritual, but then said there’s no such thing as the ritual. I don’t know what happened with my mother and maybe I’ll never find out. It’s easy for him to blame everything on her when she’s not around to defend herself.” The darkness swirls in his aura.

“I found out my dad has been bribing Jamie to get back together with me.” My voice wavers. It has nothing to do with Jamie. That man could be lost in the middle of the ocean for an eternity and I wouldn’t give a shit. It’s the fact that I’m being used as a pawn. I’m no more important than what Jamie can get from a relationship with me. Or that I hold the key to the Vandenberg family curse not rebounding back onto my father. As much as I hate Ivan Vandenberg, it still hurts.

Bram’s gaze snaps over to me, the darkness in his shadows bulging around him. “You’re upset.”

“Just really tired of being shit on. I’m tired of other people manipulating me and thinking they can maneuver me around to obey their will.”

“You’re too strong for that,” Bram states as if it’s a fact.

I wish I believed that. “You have a lot more confidence in me than I have in myself.”

There’s a lost look in Bram’s eyes as he stares at me. “I almost killed my father tonight.”

My pulse skips a beat and fear for Bram shoots straight down my spine. “What? How? What happened?”

Bram drops his head into his hands. “My curse is getting worse. The rage was so consuming, I couldn’t control myself.” The doll tumbles to the floor. I’m off the chair and at his side in the next second. I run my fingers through his hair, and he leans into my touch with a heavy exhale. His aura lightens, some of the darkness drifting away.

“You always make me feel better,” he murmurs so softly I barely hear it.

His hands snake around my waist, and he pulls me in for a hug, his head resting on my chest. He’s holding me so tight I can barely breathe, but I would rather die than ask him to let me go.

“These always make me feel better too.” He nuzzles his face between my breasts.

“So fucking predictable.” I chuckle, but I don’t stop raking my fingers through his hair.

Bram tips his head back, and there’s a long moment of silence between us. I don’t know what’s going on in his mind, but my heart is aching. The conflict in his eyes, the way he’s holding me so tightly. The fact that I get to touch him like this, as if I have the right. With his arms around me, everything is quiet. Complete for the first time in a week. I shouldn’t do it, but I lower my head and kiss him. It’s soft and slow and achingly intimate. Bram’s fingers clutch at my back, pulling me in as close as physically possible.

“I missed you.” His words are raw, vulnerable. I have no time to react before he kisses me again.

“I missed you too,” I whisper when we pull apart for a breath.

As if those words are the only permission we need, we set aside all the messiness between us. We make short work of our clothes, peeling them off without hurry, as if we have all the time in the world. His hands and mouth trace every inch of my skin. He murmurs my name when I touch his shoulders, his back. We fall into the bed, and it’s like a fever dream. Everything is languid and slow.

His eyes lock on mine as he pushes inside me. I shake from the stretching pleasure and the intimacy of his gaze. He kisses me once, twice, a dozen times, each one as slow and drugging as the rocking of his hips.

“You’re too good for me.” Bram drops his forehead to mine, his pace never faltering.

“I’m just right.” I gasp and moan when he grinds against me. I wrap my legs around his waist, needing him closer.

“Never felt anything so right,” Bram groans, reaching between our bodies to find my clit. He’s so deep, hitting every perfect angle, but when his thumb brushes over my clit, I implode. My body jerks and shudders and I hold tight to Bram’s shoulders, afraid I’ll float away and never come back down to earth if I let go.

“Fucking perfect,” Bram grunts, and then, with one last thrust, comes deep inside me.

We lay there, limp and sated, while we catch our breath. I feel it the moment tension creeps back into Bram’s shoulders. He pulls out of me with a suddenness that makes me gasp, and rolls over to the edge of the bed. He snatches his pants up off the ground and shoves his legs in them.

“You shouldn’t have come.” Bram’s back is to me as he throws that grenade.

I can’t have this conversation naked. I’d really like to scamper off to the bathroom to clean up, but apparently, we’regoing to have this discussion again. Minutes ago, I was splayed out beneath Bram without one ounce of self-consciousness, but now my nakedness is a vulnerability. I hurriedly get dressed, my irritation and sadness growing with each piece of clothing I put back on.

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