“I want to share it with you,” he whispers. Swiping quickly under my eyes, I pull myself together, standing straighter and steadying my breath. “I have to. I have to tell someone.” His swallow is audible and there’s a vulnerability in his eyes, one that shines in his sharp blue eyes, begging not to be denied.
“I’m here,” I answer him in a ragged whisper, still coping with my own truth and realizations, straightening my shoulders and praying that if nothing else, a confession will heal a small piece of him. I’m desperate for that mending to take place. More than my own sanity, I crave for him to be well.
“It’s going to take more than one conversation, I’m afraid,” he tells me, leaving the question hanging there and before I can ask it, he gives it life. “I need time and I want it with you. I need to,” he pauses and stares past me, and then glances over his shoulder at the barn. “I need to acknowledge what happened.”
“What happened?” I dare to ask him and instead of answering, he brings the plastic box up higher and asks me, “Will you destroy it? Would you destroy the barn because I wanted it to end?”
My eyes widen with the question and I take a half step back. “It’s a bomb?” I breathe out at the realization, letting him hear my fear.
“It’s an ending,” he offers me, his voice strained. “Would you let it end if it meant that tomorrow I would seek you out? Every day after, I would go where you went and tell you every secret and every confession. I would give you everything if you would let me. But would you end this piece so I never had to see it again? So I could let it rest?”
There’s nothing but agony in his question, a strength that’s undeniable, but it’s crippled by pain. “Please,” he adds, “would you do it for me?”
The need to put an end to his pain is greater than any fear. I didn’t recognize it as a truth until my hand reached out, my fingers covering the back of his hand and my thumb pressing on the button without a word spoken. There’s a soft click as the button is pressed, my inhale nearly a gasp. As he steps forward, a hand wrapping around my back, I wish I could watch as the sight unfolded.
The bang of an explosion that rips a shocked, sharp breath from me. The base of the building giving out and the clatter of what nearly sounds like thunder surrounding us. It’s a violent moment, destruction claiming the building and the warmth of fire felt far too soon as it engulfs the building.
But as it is, I can’t pull my eyes away from his hungry gaze. As the building collapses and flames rage in the distance, only a few hundred feet away, I’m held captive by Christopher and the intense pull and spark between us.
He’s the one to break it. To let the box fall to the ground as the burning rubble collapses in the distance. He’s the one to grip my hips and pull me closer so he can crash his lips against mine. His touch is possessive and just as hot and smoldering as the fire.
I’m the one to take it further, though, slipping my hands through his coat and up his shirt, desperate for my skin to be against his. He follows suit, pulling my coat open and dropping his lips lower, trailing down my throat and along my collarbone.
“I need you,” he groans against my skin and I’ve never been so thankful to hear those words.
It’s a storm of chaos as he drops me to the ground. The desire is at odds with every move he makes. Hovering over me, caging me in, yet savoring our deepened kiss with the low groans of a satisfied man. Carefully lifting my coat, he only uncovers what he needs to gain access, slowly slipping my underwear down and all the while his gaze stays on mine, waiting for my reaction.
“Please,” I beg him in a whisper, such a soft sound compared to the chaos just beyond us, but if feels as if I screamed the plea. It’s the only sound that matters. Lowering his lips to the crook of my neck, he runs my arousal over my clit in steady circles before moving his fingers lower and teasing me.
Pleasure ripples through my body, forcing me to arch my back. The heat wars against the bitter cold in the air. As I moan my pleasure, Christopher silences me with a kiss. This one is different from all the others—gentle, caressing yet possessive. As he pulls away, I stare into his piercing gaze and then my lips part in a silent scream. He enters me in a swift stroke, completely and fully, his own lips parting and a deep rumble of lust leaving his throat.