Hook Shot (Hoops 3)

“And I have found the one whom my soul loves,” he quotes back to me, his voice crashing into the curve of my neck. He comes, a roar strangled in his throat. A growl dying on his lips as he loses his breath with the force of his release.

We stay that way for long minutes, me pinned to the wall, my legs wrapped around him, his hands gripping my thighs. I relish the wet evidence of our love, our passion. I hate that it’s already sliding out of my body. Lost on my thighs. I want to hold him inside me forever.

“Don’t leave me, Lotus. God, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead into mine. “Not now. Not ever, but not now.”

“But it has to be now,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry, baby, but it has to be now.”

I drop my legs, but he doesn’t move, keeping me pinned to the wall. I poke at his chest, but my strength is puny beside his, and he doesn’t move. I look up at him through my lashes and starch my will.

“Move,” I say firmly. “Go.”

“No.”

“You can’t stay here forever,” I reason. “At some point you have to go. You’re just delaying the inevitable. The sooner you focus on Simone, the sooner we can . . .”

“The sooner we can get back together?” He pushes my hair back and traces the shell of my ear. “We’re not breaking up.”

“Kenan.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “We are. For now, we are. It’s not forever, but it needs to happen. She failed this time. I doubt she wanted to succeed. She did it in your apartment, in your bedroom, knowing you’d be coming home. But what if she still feels like she’s not getting your attention? What if she does it again?”

“She won’t ever do that again.” A tick disrupts the stern line of his jaw.

“The thing about trying to kill yourself,” I say, keeping my voice hard, being ruthless because I have to be, “is you get better at it every time you try.”

He draws in a breath that strains the muscles of his chest in his shirt.

“Show her now, Kenan,” I urge, grabbing his hand. “Show her she’s the most important thing to you. Focus on her, and when the time is right, when she’s better, Dr. Packer will guide her into accepting me as part of your life.” I breathe a little chuckle. “Maybe one day, accepting me as part of her life, too.”

“I want that,” he says, the look in his eyes intensifying. “I want you in her life. I want us to be a family. Lotus, I want you to be my—”

“Stop.” If he says it, there is no way I can send him away. Longing swells so big inside of me, I think I might burst. “Don’t. Not yet.”

“When?” he demands, lifting my chin. “When can I say it?”

“Later. After she’s better, you can say it.”

“Promise me. Promise me I can say it when she’s better, and I’ll give you your break.”

“It’s not my break, Kenan,” I say, huffing an exasperated sigh. “It’s for her, not us. That’s the point.”

We stare each other down, and it’s reminiscent of all those times I walked into a room and forced myself to stare into the eyes of the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, and walk away. I was afraid then of what would happen if I gave into the pull between us. Then I only suspected that if I ever got involved with him, I wouldn’t be able to leave. Now, I know who he is behind that rough exterior. I know his tenderness, his love, his passion, and they’ve exceeded my every expectation. He’s so much more than I imagined he would be, and it’s breaking me in half to let him go even for a season.

“Everything you’ve told me seems to underscore my point,” I say carefully. “Simone wants to be with you. With her living in your house, this is the perfect opportunity to show her she’s your priority.”

He doesn’t release me from the wall. I’m a butterfly trapped under glass. He studies me, but still doesn’t move.

“I’m flying Dr. Packer in once a week so Simone doesn’t have to start over with a new therapist,” he finally says. “When she determines that Simone is better, and that the time is right, you’ll, um . . .” He clears his throat, his lashes lowered and hiding whatever is in his eyes. “When the time is right, you’ll come back to me?”

My unguarded warrior. Never have I heard him more vulnerable, more exposed than he is right now. I reach up to cup his face, meeting his eyes with the force of my passion, my devotion.

“When the time is right,” I promise, my voice husky from the tears kept at bay in my throat, “I’ll come running, Mr. Ross.”

He bends and locks his elbows under my ass, picking me up and pressing his forehead to mine.

“No one touches you,” he says softly, fiercely.

“No one,” I agree.

“No dates.”