Brutal Heir (Billionaire Heirs #2)

Chapter 33

Sage

We’ve driven back to his house in silence, the only sound the hum of my truck’s engine. My eyes are fixed on the passing scenery, but I don’t really see any of it. I’m lost in my thoughts, trying to make sense of what just happened.

“You okay?” he asks, as he turns off the truck.

I nod, numb. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

That’s not entirely true, I’m shaken to my very soul. I need time to process what’s happened. If he still had his truck, I would have gone back to Carrizo.

My mind replays the last hour, picking apart every detail. I don’t want to be helpless anymore. How many times could I have ended up in major trouble over the past couple of days. But he saved me each time.

You think twice before messing with what’s mine . I wrap up those words and tuck them near my heart.

Mine . The word itself echoes in my mind.

I break the silence. “Thank you,” she says quietly, still looking out the window.

He glances at me, his expression inscrutable. “You don’t have to thank me. I’ll always protect you.”

Tears burn my eyes. I bring my hand up to my mouth, trying to keep from falling apart.

He comes around the truck, taking me in his arms and carrying me inside. He sets me on my feet, and we stay like that for a few moments. I can feel the warmth of his embrace seeping into my bones. The scent of him, comforting me.

I close my eyes, allowing myself to sink into the moment.

As he pulls back, I can see the worry etched on his face. His hand reaches up to cup my cheek, and I lean into his touch. The rough texture of his calloused fingers sends shivers down my spine.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you sooner,” he says, his voice heavy with regret.

I shake my head, sinking against his chest. “You came for me.” This makes me feel whole in a way I’ve never felt before.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” he says in a husky voice.

I take a deep breath and pull away far enough to see his face. “I believe you,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He puts his hands to my cheeks, bringing me in for a kiss. I close my eyes and savor the sensation of his lips on mine. The taste of him, the way his lips move against mine, send shivers down my spine. When he pulls away, he leaves me weak and wet.

I take his hand, leading him down the hall to his bedroom. I don’t want any questions as to where I stand. I pull off what’s left of my blouse then reach for my bra.

“You wanted to soak in the tub,” he reminds me. “Now might be a good time.”

I shake my head. “Take me to bed.” I put my hand to his chest. “Then the tub.” I smile. “Then pizza.” I look up at him through my lashes. “Then bed…and bed…and bed.”

His smile finally makes an appearance. We go back to shedding clothes. When his shirt comes off, I understand why he kept it on. A dark tattoo covers one side of his chest. The death saint, patron saint of the cartel.

I shift my gaze to his face and find him watching me intently. Days ago, I may have acted differently, but tonight, things are different. I slip into bed, watching him undress as I move to my side .

He joins me, leaning over me, kissing me, letting me revel in his strength, and enjoying the fact he considers me his.

And now he’s mine.