Novak Raven (Harper's Mountains #4)(44)

“You were clawing at the f*cking walls, Ave! Your nails were bleeding, and you were freezing and skinny and reciting my letters—”

“I said that’s enough! Please,” she begged in a whisper. “Please stop. It doesn’t help me. Can’t you see I’m better when I don’t think about The Hollow? My raven is stronger here. I’m happy here. Let me keep my happy.”

Weston tossed the empty oil container to the ground and reached for the next and unscrewed the cap slowly. “I couldn’t help you, and it did something awful to me, Ave. Really consider what you are asking when you want me to sleep beside you because you would’ve been really upset if you dealt with me right after coming out of that vision.”

And there it was. He didn’t believe her strong enough to handle the darkness inside of him, and her panic over him talking about his vision had proved him right. She wasn’t yet, but she really, really wanted to be.

Ashamed, she asked, “Will you at least lay beside me until I fall asleep?”

One corner of Weston’s lip curved up, but the smile didn’t reach his tired eyes. “Always,” he murmured.

Always. He would always give in and lay her to sleep, but letting his body go unconscious beside her was something different. It was too much for now. It was trusting her to handle the hardest part of his life and, in this moment, she swore to herself she would work harder to own her past so she could be stronger in the future. For Weston, but also for herself.

Avery would make this easier for him. She had to because she loved him, and she wanted to help shoulder his burdens, the way he was shouldering hers. Weston knew what The Box had been like. There was no downplaying the confinement since he’d seen it with his own eyes and soul.

He’d seen her darkest moments, and someday soon, she wanted to be tough enough to see his.

Weston finished refilling her car with oil, lowered the hood, and backed her Civic off the blocks. He’d replaced the battery, did God-knows-what when he was digging around under the hood and in the steering column, and had given it a full tune-up, including new windshield wipers. Avery was officially convinced there was nothing Weston couldn’t do. Her car started and idled better than it had done in years.

“I’m so attracted to you right now,” she murmured as he offered her a hand up.

“Oh yeah?” he asked. “You like me sweaty and covered in dirt and oil?”

He’d tossed his baseball cap so his dark facial scruff matched those raven black eyes of his. The dimple was showing again. As she dragged her attention down his muscular throat to the tattoos and piercings that covered his ripped chest, she murmured, “Hell yeah, I like you dirty.” And muscly, and tattooed, sweet, funny, quiet, and mysterious. She’d been imagining all day what they’d done in the woods. She was already wet and ready for him. Even Avery could smell the pheromones she was putting off.

And then he touched her—just a brush of his fingertips down the side of her neck. She rolled her eyes closed at how good it felt. His other hand gripped her waist, pulled her closer until her breasts pressed against his hard chest. His mouth brushed hers, and Avery angled her head, parted her lips so he could push his tongue inside. The second he deepened their kiss, she let off a happy hum. God, she loved this. Loved the taste of him, loved the way his body fit perfectly to hers, loved the way he gripped her shirt in his hands like he couldn’t help himself.

He made her feel beautiful with a touch.

He made her forget all the bad stuff…with a touch.

He healed the cracks in her broken heart, fusing them together one by one…with a touch.

Avery slipped her arms around his neck and pushed up on her tiptoes, desperate to be closer to him. Weston pulled her so hard against his body, there was no end to her, no beginning to him, but still, she wasn’t close enough. This was an addiction. Weston was her drug, and she could never get enough of the high he gave her.

When she slipped her tongue shallowly past his lips, Weston let off the sexiest sound. He leaned forward, lifted the backs of her knees around his waist, and slammed her backward against the car, ground his hips onto her slowly and bit her bottom lip hard. She was gone. Weston wasn’t a naturally gentle lover, and that was okay. More than okay. She loved him wild, adored his dominance. He was good at telling her what he wanted without words, and right now, he wanted her more than anything. Her inner raven drew up like a goddess.

Weston pushed his hard dick against her again and touched her sensitive clit perfectly. She’d thought her first few times would be bad, or awkward, until she learned how to use her body, but nope. No problems here. Weston was good at taking control and teaching her as they went. He didn’t coddle her or question her. He just trusted her to rise up to the occasion like the damn phoenix he believed her to be.

Weston lurched backward, taking her with him, then strode up the stairs to his porch. His cabin and Ryder’s shared a roof but were separated by a dog run right through the middle. He set her on her feet at the front door and kissed her for a minute longer, tongue stroking hers rhythmically, driving her body mad.

“I have to tell you something,” he murmured, his voice deep and sultry.

She nipped his lip. “Tell me anything.”

His dark brows drew down, and he gave a nervous glance at the door behind her. “My house… It’s different.”

“Is it messy? I don’t care if it’s messy.”