Yours Completely (Reign 2)

“You’re my family, Lana,” he said, cutting me off. Those words struck my chest so hard it felt like thick syrup. Family. He’d made me part of his, and it was something I wanted so badly.

He unclasped my bra, slid it down my arms, then pulled a shirt from his dresser. But he stalled as he looked me over, his big hand gently smoothing over my shoulder, down my chest to my hips. He knelt and looked at my legs.

“You have a couple bruises,” he said, gently tracing over my shin bone.

“I was kicking pretty hard.” I smiled.

He didn’t seem to like my humor, simply stood and walked behind me to inspect further.

“I’m really okay,” I said.

He came back around to face me and softly put the T-shirt over my head and pulled it down.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He fluffed the pillows, then threw back the blankets and helped me in, tucking them in around me like I was a child.

“I’m just going to take a quick shower and hit the couch.”

“What?” I understood the shower, because the poor guy was still smoky from whatever fire he’d crawled out of earlier, but the couch? “Why aren’t you coming to bed with me?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. My cheek hurts a little, but I’ll take the medicine.” But that wasn’t the real reason. “I want to feel you next to me.”

“No.” He turned and walked toward the bathroom, and I heard the water turn on. What the hell? Why was he pushing me away now?

I threw back the blankets and marched in after him. I didn’t bother waiting, or even taking off the shirt he’d put me in, I just walked right into the shower with him.

“What the—” he spurted, wiping water from his eyes.

“Yeah, exactly,” I said. “What the hell?” I stood there, the spray hitting me just enough to dampen the white T-shirt and mist my skin.

“Lana, go back to bed. I’ll bring your pill, and then—”

“And then you’ll ‘hit the couch?’” I shook my head. “Why are you keeping me close and staying away at the same time?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you. I already told you that.”

“You won’t.”

“I will,” he snapped. “I love you, damn it. I’d never hurt you. In any way.” His eyes were wild with fear and so much pain I wanted to shake him and hug him at the same time. “Look at you,” he said, glancing down the front of my shirt. My nipples were peeking out of the now-see-through cotton, and Cal definitely noticed. “If I get too close to you, I’ll want you in a way I shouldn’t.”

“Baby, I want you too. You won’t hurt me.”

“You’re injured!” he snapped. “You just fought off an attacker, your cheek is swollen, and I’m not going to risk hurting you further.”

“But, I need you,” I said. “I want to

feel you and I want our connection. I was so scared,” I admitted. “No, I was terrified. I felt weak, and forced myself to be strong and fight. And I did. Now I feel good. I got away, Cal. I beat him this time. Now, I just want you to hold me. Make love to me. I don’t want to be alone, I want to be with you.”

He shook his head and went to cup my face, then stopped and pulled back. “I want to so much, love,” he said. “But with how I’m feeling right now, it’s not a good idea.”

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

He looked at me for a long time, as if debating on whether or not to tell me. Finally, with a scowl and a few more seconds, he said, “I’m scared too.” He took a step closer, all wet skin and muscle, and my body screamed for him. I was desperate to feel him. I reached out and ran my palms along his abs. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if my touch soothed him. I hope it did.

“I was terrified too. When I saw you with blood on your face and you looked at me like I could save you. Help you. When I saw you fall, I barely got there to catch you.”

“But you caught me. And I fell because I was relieved. My brain shut down and I passed out, but I knew I was okay. You were there.”