“Just a sandwich,” I say as I rise from the table and grab the plates, turning to take them to the sink.
The scrape of her chair against the floor indicates she’s risen. I hear her soft footsteps come up behind me, and just as I’m setting the plates in the sink, her arms come around my waist from behind. She presses her cheek to my back and my breath freezes in my lungs.
“No,” she says softly. “Thank you for everything. Being there when I called, coming to the hospital. Staying all night…holding my hand. For the ride home, and yes, for fixing me dinner. I’m not sure why you did it or why you think I deserve it, but just…thank you.”
A stab of something close to painful longing pierces the center of my chest and I have no will over my body. It turns in her embrace so we come face to face. My arms go around her, folding over her lower back, and I pull her in to me. Her cheek goes to my chest, just below my collarbone, and her hair feels soft against my throat, which seems to be clogged with weird and poignant emotion brought on by her vulnerability and my need to save the day for her.
For a blessed moment, I don’t question all the hurt between us.
I simply hold her.
After several long moments, Vale stirs in my arms and I loosen my hold. She pulls her head back, followed by her chest, and leans back to look at me. Her eyes are tired, but it doesn’t diminish the beauty of the fern-colored irises boring into me. I think she may say something, maybe another expression of thanks, but then she lifts up on tiptoes and presses a kiss to my lips.
It’s soft and over all too quickly, and I sense a world of gratitude within it. I expect her to drop down to her heels, but she continues to stare at me.
Then she kisses me again.
I hold absolutely still, shocked by this move, because as she presses her mouth to mine, I think that this is something definitely more than just gratitude.
I’m sure of it when her tongue tentatively pushes past my lips and brushes against the tip of mine.
My body reacts swiftly, completely independent of my brain. My arms tighten around her and I angle my face, pushing back against her…pushing my tongue against hers.
She purrs deep in her throat and the rumble slips into me, rolling down my body, which starts to tighten with need.
For a brief moment, I consider all the ways in which this is wrong.
She’s vulnerable.
Lost.
Not thinking straight.
I would be taking advantage of her if I let this go on.
But then I think of other things.
Like her breasts pressed into my lower chest, and how soft her lips feel against mine. The warmth of her body, the swell of her ass just three inches below my hands that are clasped at her lower back. The little moaning sound she makes as our kiss enters erotic territory. The utter and irrefutable knowledge of just how fucking good it feels to be buried deep inside of her. I’ve never had better, and now that I’ve gotten a reminding taste of her, I want to feel it again. It’s at this point that my cock starts to outwit my brain.
I spin both of us around until her back is resting against the refrigerator. She gasps but never moves her mouth from mine. I nip at her lower lip and then pull back slightly to look down at her.
She’s glorious. Chest rising and falling with faltering breath, eyes at half-mast but heated through with need, lips wet and puffy from our kiss.
“Vale,” I say warningly. “We’re getting past the point of no return.”
She shivers over the tone of my voice, presses into me. Her voice quakes when she asks, “Is it wrong of us to want this?”
My heart thuds loudly, maybe even stutters, and I grit my teeth over the way in which my body and mind are warring. So fucking dangerous to go where I want to go, but ultimately, it’s a prize I want too much, damn the consequences.
“It’s totally wrong,” I tell her as my hand comes up to her face. I rub my thumb over her lower lip, letting my gaze drop briefly to watch. When I look back up at her, it’s with naked honesty that I tell her, “So goddamn wrong, but I don’t give a fuck.”
And I kiss her again.
Chapter 14
Vale
So goddamn wrong, but I don’t give a fuck.
That’s what he said, and I’m rolling with it.
I’m stretched beyond capacity for reason, completely exhausted in my mind and spirit, and Hawke stands before me like an anchor in the storm. I clutch on to him hard, accepting his continued offer of comfort, and if he’s the same old Hawke that possessed me all those years ago, I know he’ll make me forget all of the bad in my life right now. I’m actually counting on him to do just that.
Am I using him?
Even as his mouth descends back onto mine and my hands inch their way up into his long hair, I know the answer to this is yes. Guilt and remorse flood through me, but I push in closer to him rather than pull away.