Dirty Beasts: Chance by Jasinda Wilder

Author:Jasinda Wilder [Wilder, Jasinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781948445849
Publisher: Jasinda Wilder
Published: 2023-01-12T18:30:00+00:00

9 Forgiving Yourself Is The Hardest Part

Annika

His eyes are the softest, warmest brown I’ve ever seen. They sear me to the bone. Down to my soul. “I got you, mama.” His voice is softer yet.

I shake my head, tears leaking down my cheeks. I hate crying. Hate the weakness, the burn in my eyes and the sting on my cheeks, I hate the snot and the puffy eyes. I hate the way it wells up inside me like vomit, surging up and out, decimating my control. Pushing past my grip on my emotions, turning me into a sobbing, hiccoughing mess.

He pulls me against his chest, tucking my head under his chin and he cradles my face in a huge strong hand. “Annika, you’re okay. It’s okay.”

“It hasn’t been okay for…a long time,” I whisper. “A long fucking time.”

“Nah, honey, I know that. What I meant was, it’s okay to let it out.” He tugs my hair away from my eyes and brushes a thumb over my cheek, through the tear tracks. “Cry about it all you want, Nik. It’s all right.”

“I h-h-hate crying.”

“Who doesn’t? But sometimes you gotta, and I’m telling you, you’ve got a safe place to let it out, honey. Right here.” He squeezes me—it’s a gentle thing, but he’s so strong it’s like being crushed in a vise.

It’s an awkward, uncomfortable space, the steering wheel digging into my back, the console hard against my thigh, the door on the other thigh, and the ceiling brushing the top of my head. But I just can’t bring myself to leave the shelter of his arms. I’m not sure what I’m crying about anymore, to be honest. I’m just…crying. For everything, I guess. For all the things I refused to cry about for years.

I don’t even know how long it lasts, but it’s long enough that when the tears finally stop, my legs are cramped and aching from being curled up underneath me. I lean back and rub my face. “Chance, I…”

“Nik, baby.” He cuts over me. “Look at me and listen good, yeah?” I nod, let out a deep sigh, blinking hard, and he rubs a thumb over my lips, across my tear-stained cheek. “Thank you for giving me that. For trusting me with yourself like that.”

“Are we talking about orgasms or me ugly crying?” I ask, meaning it as a joke to lighten the mood.

He doesn’t seem to find it funny. “I look at both as precious fuckin’ gifts, for one thing, and for another there ain’t a single goddamn thing ugly about you lettin’ yourself cry about all the brutal fuckin’ shit you been through, mama. I know you were just joking, but it ain’t funny to me.”

I slide off of him, brushing the back of my wrists against my eyes, sniffling. “You can drive, now.” I buckle up again.

He does the same, lifting his hips and plucking at the front of his shorts, blatantly adjusting the lay of his cock. Which, my god. Even hidden behind

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