Instead of moving away from him, like he seemed to expect, she scooted in closer until no space separated them. He hugged her tight and thankfully didn’t say anything else. They remained that way for long, lazy minutes, until she found the exact right words she wanted to say.
“The past is the past. Right now is all that matters.” She gyrated her hips against him. “And right now I want you.”
He held perfectly still. “You’re only five days out of that torture trailer. Your body is still healing. Everything is happening so quickly for you. I don’t want—”
“I feel good. I feel healthy.” She kissed his throat. “I want you like I had you in my dreams.” Talking about her dreams was nothing compared to talking about her past. It just might get her what she wanted—him. And a distraction.
“I don’t want you to go down a road you might regret later.”
“I know what I want. I want you. How many more times do I have to say it?” Impatience crept into her tone.
He flipped her over onto her back and was on top of her, the steel strength of him covering her like a safety blanket of Kevlar. His beautiful, changeable eyes locked on her lips. “If I do more than hold you, if I kiss you, I’ll want more than your mouth. I’ll want to fuck you.”
Chapter 10
“…I’ll want more than your mouth. I’ll want to fuck you.” Did he just say that out loud? Yes, he had. He could tell by the way her lips parted in an enticingly stunned manner. He opened his mouth to…to what? Apologize? Nope. He meant every word; he just hadn’t meant to be so damned blunt.
“Xander, I want you to”—cotton-candy pink splotches of color tinged her cheeks—“fuck me.”
Her words went straight to his dick. She’d never uttered a word that could obliquely be called a curse word, and now she was dropping the f-bomb? Sexy as hell.
“Baby.” It was the only word in existence.
She reached up, weaving her fingers into his hair, and tugged him to her mouth. He could’ve resisted. Yeah, he could’ve. Until he got his first taste. Her mouth tasted of sweetness and promise, of the past and future, of now and forever. Logic no longer existed. In its place resided a profound certainty that this was his destiny.
His heart banged inside his chest. Her heart—he could hear it—beat a counter rhythm. Her breathing, his breathing, only added to the melody. “I wish you could hear us. Our heartbeats, our breathing.” He whispered against her mouth, pressing his forehead to hers. “Together we sound beautiful.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything about his hearing issues. Not yet.
She put one hand over his heart, the other over hers and closed her eyes. “I can’t hear it, but I feel it.”
Fuck. This woman was something special. Rather than the thought scaring the shit out of him, he recognized the deep possibilities between them. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him and holding him like he mattered more to her than anything on the earth. He soaked up her affection, letting it fill in all the dry cracks in his soul. Her cool hands slipped underneath his shirt, touching the skin of his back, running up to his shoulders and down in long, slow agonizing strokes that had his dick wishing those hands were lower. A lot lower.
She lifted his shirt and pushed it higher and higher on his back until it bunched underneath his shoulders. He sat back on his knees, straddling her hips, and tore the material over his head.
What was he doing? He shouldn’t be doing this with her right now. Not after everything she’d been through. As if she sensed his hesitation, she sat up, never even glancing at his scars, and pressed her bare cheek over his heart, then kissed him there. His heart sucked against his rib cage, straining toward her touch.
“Baby, I want this.” He grabbed her hand and settled it over his crotch. His dick—already hard—went to steel. He sucked in a breath and willed himself to not move or he might go off, just from her hand. On the outside of his jeans. What was up with that?
She squeezed him, the pressure a painful pleasure. He fought to keep himself from coming in his tighty-whities. “Christ, woman. I can’t stand much more.” He closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists to keep from ripping her clothes off. “Tell me how far you want to take this. I want to make it right for you.”
As her hand moved away from him, regret flayed him open, and the loss nearly broke him. His closed eyes burned, and he almost wanted to cry like a goddamned baby. He wanted her that fucking bad. But he’d honor her wishes. He would.
“Xander, I want it all. I’ve wanted you for so long. Longer than you could possibly imagine.” Then he felt her hands on the button of his jeans, tugging and struggling. His eyes snapped open. She worked the button through the hole and wrangled with his zipper.