Chapter Ninety-Two: All the Way Home
923 Words
-----Silas’s POV-----
He hadn’t even closed the truck door before the front porch light flicked on.
Silas grinned.
There she was.
Sierra.
Goddamn, did he miss her.
Long dark hair pulled into a messy knot. A tank top that had no business hugging her body that well. Barefoot, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like she wasn’t seconds from launching herself at him.
But he knew better.
His wife had the patience of a sugar-high toddler when it came to him being gone.
And thank God for that.
Because he was addicted to her.
He stepped up the porch stairs.
“You didn’t shoot anyone today, did you?” she teased, smirking.
“Only the one who deserved it.”
Her arms were around his neck before he finished the sentence.
“Jesus, I missed you,” she whispered.
“I missed you more.”
He inhaled. God, she still smelled like vanilla and wicked thoughts.
They held each other for a minute. Maybe two.
Then Sierra pulled back, eyes gleaming.
“You smell like bleach and guilt.”
“You smell like heaven and bad decisions.”
She snorted, grabbing his hand. “Come in. Shower. Then we talk.”
Silas stepped inside their house, the door shutting behind them with a satisfying finality.
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The water was hot. Too hot.
Just how he liked it.
He scrubbed until his skin stung, until the ghosts of the day bled out into the steam.
And when he stepped out, towel slung low on his hips...
She was gone.
“Sierra?”
No answer.
He padded barefoot down the hallway, peeking into the kitchen. Empty.
Living room? Quiet.
He smirked.
Game on.
That woman was pure chaos wrapped in lace and lipstick.
He checked their bedroom—and stopped cold.
Her clothes were folded on the bed.
Panties on top.
A note scribbled in lipstick on the mirror: Find me, soldier.
Silas’s grin turned dangerous.
“Oh, baby. You’re gonna regret this in the best way.”
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Silas followed the trail like a predator—one footfall at a time, slow and quiet. Bedroom. Hall. Nothing. Until he spotted it.
A heel.
One of her red ones. Just casually tipped on its side at the base of the hallway cabinet.
Then another.
She was luring him like bait, and the hunger in his blood was starting to burn.
“Where are you, trouble?” he called, voice low and ragged.
She giggled.
It came from behind the cracked door to the spare room.
He shoved it open.
And there she was.
On the window seat, completely bare, one leg tucked under her, the other draped seductively. Her fingers trailed lazy circles on her thigh.
“Hi, handsome.”
Silas’s chest tightened.
“Jesus, Sierra.”
He crossed the room in two strides, the towel gone before it hit the floor.
“You wanna be found?” he growled.
She nodded slowly.
“Then I’m gonna make sure you never want to hide again.”
His mouth crashed onto hers. Desperate. Possessive. Her moan lit him on fire. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her up to straddle him.
She gasped as his c**k pressed against her folds, already slick from the game.
“No teasing,” she begged against his lips.
“You think I’m teasing?”
He shifted—thrust into her in one smooth, hard motion.
She cried out, nails clawing down his back.
“Oh f**k—Silas!”
He moved deep and slow at first, savoring every inch of her clenching around him.
“You’re so tight, baby. So wet for me.”
Her lips trailed down his neck, biting his shoulder.
“I dreamed about this,” she panted. “Every night.”
He slammed into her, once. Hard.
She arched.
“Then let’s make it real.”
He carried her to the wall, hands gripping her ass as he pounded into her, the thud of skin and plaster rhythmic and raw. Her head fell back, breasts bouncing with every thrust, eyes wide with lust and love.
“Mine,” he growled, biting her collarbone.
“Yours,” she gasped. “Always.”
He kissed her hard, then pulled out, dropping her gently to her knees.
“Show me how much you missed me.”
She grinned, licking her lips before wrapping them around his c**k.
He groaned—deep, guttural.
“f**k, baby...”
She sucked him with practiced need, hands gripping his thighs as she bobbed and swirled her tongue.
His hands threaded into her hair.
When he was about to explode, he pulled her up, spun her around, bent her over the window seat.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
He slammed into her from behind.
Her scream echoed.
He wrapped one hand around her throat, the other around her waist.
“Say you’re mine.”
“Yours!”
He leaned forward, breath hot on her ear.
“Say it louder.”
“YOURS!”
He f****d her harder. Rough. Wild. Their bodies colliding like a storm.
Her legs trembled.
He reached around, rubbed her c**t in tight circles.
She shattered.
Her orgasm tore through her, screaming his name, legs shaking.
He wasn’t far behind.
One last thrust, and he came—hard—deep inside her.
They collapsed together, panting, tangled in sweat and love and something primal.
She laughed breathlessly.
“Best homecoming ever.”
He kissed her shoulder. “You’re never allowed to wear clothes again.”
“Deal.”
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