“Where do you want it to go?”
“In a perfect world?” When he nodded, she rubbed her belly, as if that would calm the fluttering. “We’d both go back to the States, and we’d see where we could take this thing between us.”
He smiled, but it was a sad smile that did what her hand could not: quell the butterflies. Killed them, actually. “I wish it were so simple.”
“It’s the virginity thing, isn’t it?”
In an instant, she was sandwiched between his body and the door, and his mouth was at her ear. “Let’s be clear on this,” he growled. “You have no idea how badly I want to be inside you. Standing up, lying down, taking you from behind. All of it. Right now.”
Oh, God. Her knees wobbled, but he wrapped an arm around her and held her steady.
“Not being able to do any of that is killing me. Literally. But strangely enough, I like just being with you. Touching you however I can, whenever I can. So no. The virginity thing is not what will keep us apart.”
“T-then what?” He did something sinful with his tongue against the shell of her ear while rocking his massive erection into her belly.
“I’m dying.”
“Dying to what?” She reached down and brushed her hand over the bulge in his jeans, because the last two times they’d been together, she’d taken from him, and this time she was giving. “Have me get down on my knees?”
“Yes, but…” His voice became strangled. “I mean, I’m dying. Cancer.”
Her chest filled with ice. “No.” She shook her head so hard her hair lashed her cheeks. “No.”
He grasped her shoulders firmly but gently. “Serena, listen to me. I’ll keep you safe as long as I can—”
“You think I’m upset because I need you to keep me safe?” She stepped away from him, eyes stinging and her entire body trembling. “You… you… ass!”
His gaze fell to the floor.
Now who’s the ass?
“Oh, Josh, I’m sorry.” Still shaking, she wrapped her arms around him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She thought about the times he was sick, and now it all made sense. It made sense, too, why he’d wanted to hang out with her from the beginning.
I decided to make a vacation out of this trip. One of those one hundred and one things to do before you die.
“It wasn’t important.” When she stiffened, because she was going to lay into him again, he added quickly, “Not at first. But now… I just don’t want you seeing a future that’s not going to happen.”
Choking back a sob, she looked up at him. “You should have told me.”
“Why? So you’d look at me with pity, like you’re doing now? I shouldn’t have told you at all.”
“You can’t tell me something like that and expect me to not react,” she ground out, and she knew she shouldn’t get angry, but dammit, this wasn’t fair. They might not have had a shot at a normal life together, but now they didn’t have a shot at any kind of life at all.
“Kiss me,” he said. “Just kiss me and don’t let this get in the way of the time we have left.” But he didn’t give her time to kiss him. Instead, he dipped his head and kissed away her tears, his satin lips wiping away the traces of her pain.
He was right. They shouldn’t be wasting what little time they had together. But how were they supposed to move forward? She wanted to bawl, the kind of sobbing you never wanted anyone to witness because it was messy and loud and left you with red, swollen eyes for a day.
“Hey. You’re not with me, here.” His mouth found hers, and he kissed her so deeply she felt it to her soul.
His tongue stroked hers and his hand came up to her neck, kneading and caressing, making her forget… and how damned selfish was she to let him make her feel better? He was the one who needed to feel good, and here he was, putting aside the fact that he was dying to comfort her.
She was a seriously selfish bitch.
“Josh,” she murmured against his mouth, “you’ve been so generous with me. I want to give you something back.” Though her hands shook, she drew them down his chest and abs. When she reached his jeans waistband, she plucked at the top button.
He closed his fingers around her wrist. “I can’t.”
“I know.” She stroked the back of his hand until he loosened his grip. “But what if I kiss my way down? Slowly. Would you let me take you in my mouth?”
He made a strangled noise and stood still—frozen, in fact, as she stripped him of his shirt. But when she kissed his left pec, lightly, gently, his head fell back and his hands grasped her shoulders. He held her as though he’d fall over if he let go. As though he didn’t want to let go.
She kissed her way lower, reveling in the taste of his skin, his masculine flavor, something she’d never truly tasted before. Not like this. She sank to her knees and used her tongue to trace his navel.