Renegade Path

He lifted his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “I feel cleaner.”

“That’s a start.” I took a few steps closer. I had to tip my head back a little further to meet his eyes. His damp hair hung over his forehead, covering one eyebrow. I reached up to brush it away.

He caught my hand mid-air.

“Your hair’s longer,” I said.

His body relaxed. He released my hand and gripped my hips. Instead of pulling me closer, he walked me backward and gently lifted me onto the counter. He wedged his body between my knees and framed my face with his hands.

“Kiss me,” he whispered an inch from my lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me, butterfly.” The warm weight of his forehead pressed against mine. “I missed you so much.”

I took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, woodsy scent of the bodywash I’d bought him and smiled. “You smell good.”

Deep laughter rumbled in his chest. Brief, but it still counted.

He pressed his lips to mine. Hard and demanding. We parted, breathless and staring at each other.

“You don’t know how many times I visualized kissing you,” he said.

I blinked. “I’m right here.”

He caught my lips in a gentler kiss. He trailed kisses along my jaw and to my neck, tugging my shirt to the side to trace his lips over my collarbones.

“Juliet?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we eat dinner later?”

His hands tightened around my waist and he yanked me to the edge of the counter, pressing himself between my legs enough to share exactly what he had in mind.

I looped my arms around his neck. “Whenever you want.”

“I need you,” he whispered against my lips.

“I need you too.”

He lifted me against his body and I wrapped my legs around his waist. In his embrace, I felt complete for the first time in months.

We took a quick detour toward the stove and I leaned over to turn off the burners.

“Hold on.” He adjusted me in his arms, then all but sprinted for the stairs. I didn’t need to remind him. He knew exactly where to go.

Having Roman’s arms around me again was the safest I’d felt in months.

In the bedroom, he set me down. I stripped off my shirt and jeans, eager to be close to him again.

“Roman.” I wanted him so much, my voice was nothing but a harsh whisper. I’d help him forget whatever awful memories he came home with. He needed to be reminded how much I loved him and of the future we’d been planning together.

He reached out and cupped my breast, rubbing his thumb over my nipple. My bra was sheer, the fabric so thin, I felt every caress of his calloused hands. His other hand stroked over my ribs, my stomach, and finally pressed between my legs. I went up on tiptoes and dug my nails into his shoulders.

“Ah!” My eyes squeezed shut. I’d missed this so much. “Please, Roman, please,” I begged.

“Undress me first.”

My eyes popped open. Something was different. More intense.

It hurt so much to imagine what he’d been through.

I slid my hands under his T-shirt and slowly lifted it until he flung it across the room. I gasped. He was leaner, all cut, defined muscle which somehow made all the hideous scrapes and bruises marring his skin stand out even more. He was almost too lean and hard, like food had been scarce.

“Roman—”

He pressed a finger to my lips. “Not now.”

A flicker of pain in his eyes caught my breath, but I didn’t probe. I’d give him what he needed first and ask my questions later.

Roman

The worry and pity in Juliet’s eyes almost undid me. The shame of everything that had happened at the Castle still clogged my soul. There weren’t enough showers in my future to wash those memories away. I didn’t want Juliet to ever know about the fights. If she looked at me differently, or thought I’d turned into a monster, it would be the death of me.

“Down.” I jerked my head toward the mattress. She spread out in the middle with her head on the pillows. I prowled to the foot of the bed.

So much anger still pinged around inside my sore body, I worried I’d be too rough with her. My hands curled into fists at my sides. I needed her so badly I was afraid I’d break her.

“Slide your hand inside your panties and touch yourself.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Roman?”

“Do it.” I softened my tone. “For me.”

She stared at me, still unsure or shy, I couldn’t tell.

“The last few months have been non-stop ugliness,” I explained. “Show me something beautiful.”

Slowly, she slid one hand down her belly and under her panties.

“Open, so I can see. Please.”

She bit down on her fist, which only made her look sexier.

Her panties were sheer but I still couldn’t see much. Just the back of her hand pressing against the black material. I moved in closer, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting my hand on her knee.