“Didn’t know how long you’d need to sleep. How’s the bite?”
“Barely know it’s there.” He moved to her, took her hand, turned up her wrist. “We’ll both have our scars now.”
“Your hair’s wet.”
“I got in the shower. My bones were aching, and I think I smelled fairly ripe after my night of it.”
“You’ll have soaked the bandage.” She frowned as she nudged him around. “Let me have a look.”
“Itches mostly,” he said, enjoying having her fingers in his hair, on his skin.
“It’s healing fast. Glenna’s magic balm. Boy, I wish I’d had some of that after my round. Guess you’ll do.”
“Will I?” He turned, gripped her waist, then boosted her up so she sat on the table.
“Careful there, Bunky, you’re not off the disabled list.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Doesn’t matter so much. I was thinking before how I like watching your mouth move.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “It’s got such energy.”
“Didn’t you wake up all frisky? I think you’d better—”
It was as far as she got before her mouth was very busy.
He didn’t just taste this time but feasted. Didn’t just sample, but possessed. This was more hunger, more demand than she’d been prepared for, the sort that swamped mind and body and left her floundering with need.
She hadn’t put her defenses up, not in time. Now it was too late to do anything but meet the assault.
She’d yielded, just a little, just enough, then the heat flooded back into her. He could feel it, pouring out and up, and through him, a glorious scorching. He ran his hands over her, touching, finally touching, up the lean torso, over firm breasts, along strong shoulders and back again.
He felt her shudder of response, heard the moan of it catch in her throat, and knew she’d belong to him.
But she pressed her hands to his chest. “Wait. Wait. Let’s step back a minute.”
Her voice was thick and breathy, and made him want to lap her up like cream. “Why?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll think of a reason in a minute, as soon as my IQ goes back up above the level of a turnip.”
“I don’t know what your eye queue might be, but the rest of you is perfect.”
She managed a laugh but kept her hands firm so his mouth wouldn’t take hers again and fry her brain a second time. “I’m not. Not nearly perfect. And it’s not that I don’t think diving into this would feel really good. Really good. More than likely we’re going to end up doing just that eventually. But it’s complicated, Larkin.”
“Things are as simple or as complicated as you make them.”
“No. Sometimes things just are. You don’t even know me.”
“Blair Murphy, demon hunter. That’s what you’d think of first—that’s what you’ve been taught to think of first. But it’s not nearly the whole of you. Strong, for certain, and full of courage.”
She started to interrupt, but he laid a finger on her lips. “But there’s more in you than valor and duty. You’ve soft places in your heart. I saw them when Glenna and Hoyt handfasted. You fussed with the flowers and the candles because you wanted them to have their moment. You knew they loved, and that it’s important. There was sweetness in that.”
“Larkin—”
“And you’ve been hurt. The bruises are all inside, all wrapped up where no one should see them. Hurting makes you think you’re alone, that you need to be. But you’re not. I know you’ve fought your whole life against something horrible, and you’ve never turned away from it. And even so, you can smile, and laugh, and get dewy-eyed when two people in love make promises to each other. I don’t know your favorite color or what book you last read when you had a moment of leisure, but I know you.”
“I don’t know what to do about you,” she said when she could speak again. “I really don’t. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be for me. I’m always supposed to know.”
“And no surprises? I’m happy to change that for you. Well, since I don’t think I’m going to be getting the clothes off you right at the moment, why don’t we have a walk.”
“Ah…Hoyt and I did a sweep through the woods this morning. Took out three.”