I’d meant it. Hadn’t I?
Now, looking back on the conversation without the fog of anger and pain...and need...I wasn’t so sure. What I did know? Staying away from him didn’t actually have anything to do with a roller coaster. I’d never actually ridden on one, but I bet they were exciting. They had to be; people kept going back for more.
Was I punishing him for the hurt he’d caused me? Or was I simply afraid of losing him again and doing exactly as he had done?
Pensive, I took a quick shower, dressed in the T-shirt and sweatpants Mr. Ankh kept in the drawers. The first fit just fine. The second barely came to my ankles. Unfortunately Mr. Ankh did not keep a drawer stocked with bras and panties, so I had to go commando—the alternative to slipping back into my dirty underwear. I brushed my teeth twice and then my hair, wincing from the pain. Finally I emerged on a cloud of steam.
Cole hadn’t moved from the bed, but now he was sitting up, watching me, his eyelids heavy. His gaze moved over me, lingering in certain places. “Com’ere,” he said, his voice low and husky with want.
“We should probably leave,” I hedged.
“We will. I want to kiss you first.”
“You shouldn’t... I shouldn’t...”
“I’ll make you glad we did,” he said softly, almost...shyly.
How could I resist this new side of him?
Yet another one. How many did he have? Would I fall for each of them?
I crawled on top of him.
His big hands tenderly cupped my cheeks, the calluses on his fingers abrading my skin in the most delicious way. Moving slowly, giving me time to stop him, he lifted his head and pressed his lips against mine.
The cut stung a little, but I didn’t care. I kissed him with all the pent-up need inside me. The need to taste him. The need to take from him and give to him. The need to brand him, to make him mine. All mine.
As our tongues thrust together, he shifted, rolling me to my side and hooking my leg over his hip. With the new angle, he’d created the perfect cradle and was able to scoot closer to me, practically fusing our bodies...rubbing against me, once, twice.
“You feel good enough for this?” he rasped.
“Stop talking and keep kissing.”
He chuckled softly, and I nipped at his bottom lip. “Tell me if I hurt you.”
“Still. Talking.” I slid my hands under his shirt, tugged the material over his head. He fisted the hem of my mine, and the next thing I knew, the entire thing was being tossed over his shoulder.
Cool air brushed my skin, but the heat radiating from him quickly chased it away, even turned my blood to lava. I wrapped my arms around him, scraped my nails along his back. All the while he continued rubbing against me, back and forth, pressing, easing, pressing again...oh, yes...just...like...that.
“Ali,” he gasped out.
The most amazing scent wafted from him. Pure, crisp. Familiar.
The urge to bite would follow.
“Ali,” he said again.
I licked my lips. “Cole.” If I could chew my way past skin, vein and bone, I could get to what I wanted. The heart of him. The— No! I reared back and tumbled from the bed. “I need the antidote from my pack,” I rushed out, crab-walking to the wall, widening the distance. “Now. Please.”
He asked no questions. He hopped up, dug through the pack and rushed back to my side. There was a sharp sting in my neck before a cool river washed through my veins. And yet the river couldn’t wash away the horror of what I wanted to do.
Cole stayed by my side, and I could still smell him. My gaze snagged on his hammering pulse, and there was a flood of moisture in my mouth.
“More,” I said.
“That’s too much.”
“Just do it.”
With a growl, he returned to the pack, found another syringe. He stuck me with more force, and another cool burst cascaded through me. My fascination with his pulse finally ebbed. The delicious smell faded. I sagged into the cold, hard floor, already crying.
“Better?” Cole asked.