Sage blinked, unsure if she’d actually just experienced…well…that. Had he really just spanked her? Had he really just done it to reinforce an order he’d given her?
If she were honest, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Garrett had burst into her life by defending her honor, fists first, at Opal’s Tavern on that unforgettable June night. He’d sealed the deal just three weeks later, making her body feel like the meteor shower overhead, over and over again. Joe and Hannah Hawkins might as well have given their son the middle name of Firestorm instead of Flynn.
So yeah, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to put the man’s intensity together with all the newer things she’d seen in him over the last four hours. Cobalt smoke hovered at the corners of his gaze, which had once been the pure blue of a summer sky. Tense lines now embedded themselves at the corners of his mouth. Nothing casual remained in how he moved. Every action was sharp, full of purpose and battle-honed balance.
Sage had noticed it all and understood. She’d seen it all and accepted it. His grief for her had gouged a chunk of his soul. He hadn’t filled that hole with anything easy or forgiving, especially for himself.
Now they were just dealing with a few readjustment issues.
To the tune of two more sharp slaps on her backside.
They hurt. Oh damn, how they hurt. For a second, she thought about breaking free and scrambling away. But the next second, something deep inside her body was startled awake. Something illicit, decadent and, until this moment, very secret. She’d thought these dark desires had been banished from her body, long-forgotten before the year in Botswana—even long before she’d met Garrett. For a few brief months, during those carefree months prior to boot camp, she had let illicit fantasies of letting a man bind her, control her, use her solely for his pleasure, romp free in her imagination. But beyond getting her hands on a good vibrator and a few mouthwatering novels, she’d never done anything about them…
Certainly nothing like this.
And ohhhh, how this felt…exhilarating. Heart-stopping. Like she was alive again. Like she was desired again.
Again. Please do it again.
No. Wait. Wait. Okay, her logic was still around here somewhere, right? They needed to talk about this, to figure it out, to set up some—what did the novels call them?—limits. Right. Limits were good to discuss when a guy decided to pull down your panties, flip you over, and then smack his palm on your bare ass.
But she didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound. That shadowy instinct coaxed her to stay motionless, full of trepidation and anticipation, despite this new wilderness of emotional ground for them. It had been a long year for him, too—and eagerness filled her to know more about these new parts of the man who’d snatched her from the jungle, who’d brought her back to life. She wanted to know it all…especially now.
She breathed deep. Again. Then waited, listening to Garrett’s rough exhalations above her. The husky releases were choppy, hesitant, distant. Though the heat of his massive body still hovered over her, she shivered as if he’d left the room.
She continued waiting. It was one of the hardest things she’d done. His silence tormented her. His grip tightened around her wrists. With his other hand, he claimed her spine from nape to ass with a possessive, clawing sweep. A deep moan stole its way up her throat.
“Ssshhh.”
He followed the track of his hand with his mouth, nipping her in tiny but savage bites. Her moan pitched into a little yelp.
“Ssshhh.”
He dipped his touch between her thighs. With just a small grunt of warning, he pinched her sensitive folds.
“Ohhhh!”
He didn’t shush her this time. With one deft move, he turned her over again. Without skipping a beat, he flattened his hand into a paddle and swatted what he’d just pinched.
Wow. And whoa.
“Garrett! What the—shit!”
Her exclamation coincided with the discipline he kept delivering to her mound. Shock ripped through her. And on its heels, self-reprimand. She was just the one asking for more, right? For the chance to finally let her wicked desires flare into delicious flames? Had she meant it, even if her imagination never included this?
Her mind had a tougher time answering that when her body weighed in on the issue. Every nerve ending sizzled like exposed electric lines. The most intense heat came right from the tissues he’d enflamed. Her pussy pulsed with awareness, and her entire vagina trembled and dripped anew. It stole her breath, spiraled her senses, pulled out her deepest sighs. Every swat Garrett gave seemed to unlock something inside her, something amazing. The ugly pain of the last year was slowly replaced by an exquisite pain that set her senses free, that told her body it was all right to feel this way again.
She sighed with the sheer radiance of it, raising her hips, silently begging him for more. She opened her eyes, needing to watch him as he did this, needing to know that this was really what he wanted too…
She blinked in surprise. The view wasn’t what she expected. Garrett’s teeth were locked beneath his slightly parted lips. His jaw was granite hard, and his gaze was the same color and texture. Nothing about him conveyed pleasure or joy. It almost looked like—
Like he wasn’t enjoying this at all.
“Garrett?”
Damn, she wished she could touch him. She needed to soothe the hard lines from his face, to feel his pulse, to try to understand where his thoughts hovered. But she could only watch in mute frustration as his gaze roamed the length of her body again, his expression still impenetrable.
A strange emotion drenched her. She didn’t recognize it at first, but the truth set in, shitty and awful. She was ashamed. Drowning in the stuff. Her body didn’t have the soft, womanly physique Garrett had adored. Her arms and legs were defined by the muscles she’d been utilizing nonstop for a year, but other parts of her were skeletal. Her breasts were at least two cup sizes smaller. Her hip and collarbone jutted from her skin. Her hair had thinned. Even her fingernails were brittle. The erection that jutted from Garrett’s fly was for the body he thought he’d be getting again—the curves of the woman he’d claimed beneath the stars two years ago.
That woman didn’t exist anymore. Not physically; certainly not mentally. The only thing she remained sure of was her heart—and its love for a man who now stared at her like a pathetic charity case.
Sage gulped. Damn it, she’d sworn she wouldn’t cry again. She’d shed enough tears on him during the journey back here and again during her epic-length shower to have used up her allotment for the next two months. But the stinging bastards came anyway, dumping out her eyes, tracking down her cheeks. Like an idiot, she didn’t hide them from Garrett, either. Sure, because her blubbering was going to magically flip his desire switch again, right?
To make matters worse, she sniffed with the grace of an elephant. She longed to roll the hell back over—until, for one beautiful moment, Garrett looked at her again. Really looked. Her breath hitched. Her stomach somersaulted in a familiar way. A tentative smile tempted her lips. For that amazing moment, he was back. He was hers. The brilliant blue of his eyes swept her away to days of laughter, warmth, sun, and love.
He blinked—and just like that, the dark smoke returned to his stare. A curtain of the stuff coated his features in anger, vacillation, and confusion—
No. No.
He released her with a rough grunt.
“I can’t do this.” He dropped his head as if the action helped him make a choice, and then he bolted from the bed. “I…I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“It’s all right.” Sage twisted her fingers while nervously watching him pace the room. “Maybe we can just talk about—”
“No.” He stuffed himself back into his pants and then zipped up. “No talking. Not about this.”