Tightening my hold, I tug him toward the tub, then reach for the laces of his shorts. He allows me to untie them, and I slip my fingers under the waistband. Slide them down along the hard, defined muscles of his lower stomach.
I push his boxers down, and they drop slowly to meet his shorts around his ankles. I hear his sharp intake of air as my body lightly brushes his. But this isn’t about sex. It’s about me taking care of him, about him trusting and allowing me to care for him.
With a grunt, he steps over the edge of the tub and settles down in the water.
“Too hot?” I ask, already adjusting the temperature.
He shakes his head. He doesn’t say anything, but I’m frightened that his pain is too intense. I rush toward the closet and dig out a clean washcloth from the jumble of linens.
When I turn around, Boone’s gaze is hard on me. “I want you in here with me.”
Boone
And I burn, lit by your torch
MELODY STANDS FROZEN IN place, washcloth in hand. Her eyes leveling me with a knowing look.
From the moment she first touched me in this tiny ass bathroom, I’ve been counting down the seconds until I combust. Every nerve ending in my body is screaming in pain, but it’s a distant roar compared the desire to touch her soft skin. Taste her sweetness. Feel her body against mine.
I rise from the tub, my legs aching, but I’ll go to her if she makes me wait any longer.
She swallows and licks her lips, and I curl my hands into fists.
I’ve never begged for anything.
Ever.
But if she doesn’t touch me right now, this second… I’ll fall to my knees. And dare her to give me just one look that says she’s mine.
“You’re hurting,” she says.
“I don’t care.” And I don’t. Af
ter suffering these past few days without her, not knowing if I ran her off forever, whether or not she despised me…not knowing if she was high, lost, in trouble—I have to touch her, make sure she’s real, and that she knows just how much I’m going to try for us.
I’m scared as hell. Worried that when I kiss her again, I’ll picture Hunter’s face. Pale and empty of life. The self-loathing I feel for myself for not being there to protect him has crippled me, and I may botch this whole thing to hell.
But for her, I’m willing to do anything to be the man she needs. The one who can hold her and not flinch. Be strong enough that, when she shakes with need for a fix, will rub her calves, soothing away the raw ache.
When she pangs with need, I want to fill her physically and emotionally; remove her mind so far from the addiction she feels safe to lose herself, trusting me to be the one to take her away.
I’m not a fool. I know it’s dangerous to trade one addiction for another, and I’m not so conceited to think I could even be that for her—but I’m damn stubborn enough to refuse to let this woman slip through my fingers again.
She takes one small, hesitant step forward, and it’s all I need. I’m out of the tub and rushing toward her. I pull her body against mine and lower my head, my lips crush hers.
Despite my swollen fingers, I work the button of her jeans open. My hands in a rush to remove every article of clothing, to feel her silky skin against mine. She notices my struggle, and I can feel her smile against my mouth as she helps me push her jeans down her legs.
She backs away just enough to let me tug her tank over her head, then she removes her bra. My eyes hungrily devour her breasts and stomach, the curves I can’t wait to explore. Without any prompting, I’m on my knees and sliding down her underwear.
A groan escapes my mouth as I press my lips to her thighs. Her hand goes to my hair, fingers fisting as she gains her balance against my greedy need to taste her. I lift one of her legs and place it over my shoulder. She yelps, catching the wall for better balance.
I gaze upward. “Sorry, but you’re not going to slow me at this point.”
I’m not sure if it’s excitement or fear I witness in her eyes as she meets my gaze, but her chest rises and falls with her rushed breaths, her brown eyes pleading for…something. I’m going to find out what that something is—what it takes to make her come harder than she ever has before.
Slowing my movements, I skim my palm along her inner thigh, run my finger over her smooth lips, slipping it just between. She sucks in a quick breath, and I push my finger inside. Her warmth and wetness surrounds me, and my dick aches to feel her.
Pressing my mouth to her, I kiss gently, my finger sliding along the swollen flesh as I shoulder her thigh higher, opening her up to me. My tongue traces her lips, making her quake against me, until I find the spot that makes her grip tighten in my hair. Her thigh quivers.