Dead of Wynter: A Dark Mafia Romance (Frost Industries Book 2)
Dead of Wynter: Chapter 33

He’s quiet for so long I think he’s considering what I’ve said. I didn’t intend on pushing him about this anymore today because I understand why he’s acting like a possessive caveman right now. But somewhere along the way I started to walk the line between the two things I want.

To submit to Everett and him not treat me like a fractured doll.

And for the men in my family to recognize that I’m just as useful in this war as they are.

The two coincide more than you would think, both talking more of their underestimation than anything else, but it runs deeper than that. It’s like the two parts of me colliding. The boss I show the world, and the person I haven’t allowed myself to be since Craig hurt me.

And then after a few more moments of silence, I start to wonder if he’s going to reply at all. His body weight is still heavy on my back, grounding me after the day we’ve had, but he’s not rocking his hips into my ass anymore.

A moment later he flips me over and pushes me up the bed before climbing over me, settling his weight on me again. For a moment I wonder if he knows I need it, if he realizes that the small gesture is keeping me here with him, instead of allowing my mind to wander to all the possibilities of how today could have ended.

Everett’s fingers brush across my cheek in a tender gesture I almost don’t recognize. Not that he has ever been anything but gentle with me, but this seems like more, like he’s staring into the depths of my soul and seeing himself. “You are everything to me, Wynter. You think the reason I want to clip your wings is because I’m controlling like your brothers, or old fashioned like every other organization like this one, but the truth is that I can’t fathom living a day on this earth if you’re not walking it to. Even when we were apart, I always knew you were okay. Hurt, but okay. But the idea that that may not be the case one day, that we could send you in like a sacrificial lamb and you may not walk out on the other side of it, that fucking kills me.” He presses his eyes closed for a moment, emotions swirling around in the deep blue and threatening to spill over. “I just want you safe. Today was…” He takes a deep breath to settle the anger flicking across his features. “It was too close, dove, too fucking close.”

I snake my hand up his body until his face is cupped in my palm. The warmth of his cheek leans into my hand and a part of me I thought long dead flickers to life. The flame only Everett can stoke lights for the first time in eight years, and it’s like my heart has a reason to beat, and my lungs have a reason to breathe. “Nothing is going to happen to me. Do you know why?”

He shakes his head slightly, his face still resting in my palm, and something that doesn’t belong in a man like Everett creeps into his eyes. Vulnerability. It’s a weakness for men like him, something he can’t afford to have, but the way he looks down at me, like I’m the finest piece of china left on this earth, and I’m about the shatter.

“Because you won’t let it.” I smile. “It doesn’t matter if I’m involved in this takedown, or if you keep me locked here in this ivory tower until all the danger is gone. You’ll keep me safe, and that’s why I’m not afraid.”

“And whose going to keep you safe from me, little dove? The same blood runs in my veins. They’re going to keep coming for you until they’re dead and buried, but what if I turn out like them? Or like my father? What then?”

I shake my head. “That won’t happen. Just because they’re your blood, doesn’t make them your family. You grew up with us. With Storm and Rayne as brothers. With Mom and Dad as parents. And you and I were connected from that first moment. Do you remember?” I close my eyes as I reminisce on the moment my life changed. The moment I met the boy who made me believe in all the fairy tales I was told as a little girl. “Storm always used to talk about you, you know? And mom used to talk about what a nice boy you were, but that day… it feels like a dream even now.”

I don’t know why I’m allowing myself to walk down this path, because it’s a dangerous one. Everett’s childhood was anything but happy, except for the times he was with us. The nights he would show up on the doorstep at midnight, his bike in one hand, and his other clutching broken ribs from where his uncle had become frustrated with him. I was too young to understand what was going on, even if parts of me did. I’d seen plenty of blood by that age. Men being traipsed through our house at ungodly hours of the night and never leaving the basement. But here was something different about tending to Everett’s wounds. Something intimate even.

“I remember,” he croaks. “I thought you were an angel. I still do.” His fingers brush through the blonde locks fanned out around my head.

“You’re nothing like them, Everett.”

“How do you know?”

“Because none of them are capable of love.”

His eyes flash with emotion as he stares down at me, the moment turning into long stretches of silence as he processes the words I’ve said. He knows I’m right, but whether he’s going to admit that or not may be an entirely different story. There’s a fire in his eyes I’ve seen before, a determination that seems almost as familiar as the man himself.

He catches me off guard when his lips come down on mine in a passionate kiss, his tongue demanding entry the moment they lock and I’m powerless to deny him. I always have been. Because the reality is, even if Everett left me a thousand times, I’d take back a thousand and one times. The kiss is full of everything we’ve left unsaid over the last eight years. The emotions we felt the night he left, the ones we felt when we were apart, and the ones we’ve felt since he walked back into my life and reminded me what it feels like to be alive.

Everett’s body rocks into mine, our hips align and I can feel him exactly where I need him. The fabric of his pants, and the barely there towel does nothing to shield me from the heat. “This wasn’t the plan,” he groans between kisses, his movements only growing more impatient.

“Who gives a fuck about the plan,” I moan as his lips trail across my cheek and down my neck, nipping and sucking as he travels across my skin.

“I was meant to tell you everything.”

“I don’t care about any of that, Everett. Nothing you could tell me would change how I feel, and it certainly wouldn’t change how fucking badly I need you.”

Before he can respond, I capture his lips again, and this kiss catches us both off guard. Everett pours every emotion, everything he’s kept from me, everything we’ve been through, the pain of every moment we spent apart into the kiss, and I let him. He needs this just the same way I do, and I allow his to claim me in a way I haven’t let anyone close to since he left. I can’t help but wonder if somewhere in the back of my mind I always knew he would come back for me.

I reach up to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, but he quickly gathers both hands into one of his and holds them above my head.

After everything Craig put me through, I never thought I’d be able to handle being restrained in any way, but the way Everett pins me to the mattress feels like coming home.

Being with him has always allowed me to be who I truly am, but this moment feels different. It’s like all the broken pieces are clicking back together, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, my mind is quiet. I got a taste of this last night, but for some reason after almost being blown up, everything is amplified.

“Tell me what you need, dove,” Everett whispers as he trails hard kisses along my jaw and down my neck, tearing moans from the throat.

“You,” I pant. “I need you.”

Everett rears back for a moment to look down at me, and when our eyes clash he searches mine for something. “I won’t be able to take it easy, Wynter. This won’t be anything like our first time.” He’s trying to scare me off, trying to convince me to wait without saying the words, but I need this. I need him.

“I don’t care.”