I looked at the moon-silvered beach, fearing Conner and Pippa’s return. “I can’t answer that.”
And don’t ask me why because I don’t know why.
I wanted him. I feared I might be in love with him. But I wouldn’t let myself be any weaker than I already was. If I let him consume me, how would I survive if he died? How would I cope if he got sick and I couldn’t heal him? How would I continue living here (in the epitome of loneliness and seclusion) if something happened to him?
No. It was too much. I had to remain a safe distance.
Care for him.
Love him.
But not fall in love with him. Never give him my heart because it would destroy me.
“Yes, you can. It’s easy.” He hobbled closer. “Nod for yes or shake your head for no.” His free hand went between his legs, cupping the long erection visible in his board-shorts. “Let me know if you want this...want me.” His jaw clenched as he thumbed the crown. “One little word, Estelle, and you have me. I’ll let you command me every damn day we’re on this godforsaken island and every day after. Just...say the word.”
My breath vanished as if he’d stolen every inch from my lungs. I took a step back as he kept moving forward. Was he asking me to go out with him? Was that what this was? Was he expecting me to agree to a relationship with dates and anniversaries and...holy God, potential marriage? Or did he just want a screw-buddy to roll around in the sand until we were found or finally succumbed to death?
It hurt that my heart leapt at the former option.
I wanted commitment and someone to call my own. But not here where he would become everything and more to me. We would smother each other. We would fear our existence worse and worse the more we had to lose.
“I can’t give you what you want.” I shook my head. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be that way.”
“What way?”
“Demands and ultimatums.”
“Yes, it does. Don’t you get it? I can’t keep hoping that one night you’ll slip into my bed and kiss me again. I can’t stop dreaming about your lips on mine or my fingers in your body. I want you, Estelle. No, I need you. And until I know where I stand, I can’t turn the hope off.”
He looked at me with such anger but also such a plea. He yelled but I held all the power because, unless I agreed, he couldn’t have what he wanted.
He was pissed off that he had to give me the choice. I was surprised he didn’t ignore my protests and claim me anyway.
I’d let him.
I shuddered at the truth. I’d not only let him—in a way, I wanted him to. He’d take the responsibility from me, and I’d have no choice but to fall and fall and hand over my life forever.
“I—I—”
Do it. Stop fighting. You like him. You want him every second of every day. What the hell are you waiting for?
Life was too short for nonsense. The fear of the children seeing us was inconsequential—they were old enough to understand. The terror that I’d give him my heart, only for him to die and leave me was unsustainable because that possibility existed in the biggest metropolis or on the tiniest island. And the idea that one day we’d be found, only to be broken-hearted if Galloway decided I was nothing more than a castaway fling wasn’t enough to refuse temporary happiness.
We could be together.
We could bring each other pleasure.
We could have so much more in each other’s arms than we did apart.
I took a step closer, my eyes locking onto his.
His back straightened, feeding off me as my decision formed stronger and stronger.
Yes, I wanted this.
Yes, I wanted him.
I wanted his kisses. His touch. His whispers. His caresses.
I wanted his body inside me. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms. I wanted to scream with pleasure as I came. And I wanted to bask in lust knowing I could do the same for him. “Galloway...”
He froze. “Yes or no, Estelle. If it’s yes, you’d better be ready to have me because I can’t stand another second.”
We deleted another metre between us.
Two more left.
Barely anything at all.
My tummy flipped in anticipation.
“I—I want you.”
His eyes snapped closed. “Thank hell for that.”
He took another step. A single metre barricaded us.
My skin came alive, begging for his touch.
He would be happy with me. I’d give him safe harbour to relax and stop judging himself. He would find value in his worth by the way I held him, thanked him, and looked into his eyes as he slipped inside me.
Our bodies would join.
He’d thrust into me.
And every time he orgasmed—
I slammed to a stop.
No.
No, no, no.
Galloway tensed. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. You’d made up your mind. It was yes, Estelle. I saw it in your eyes. You were going to say yes.”
I backed up. The one metre returned to two. “We can’t.”
“Can’t?” He glowered. “Can’t or won’t?”