Desperate to Touch - Page 38

“Cami said it was a sign that you’d gotten both my favorite flowers and hers. She used to joke that the buttercups were her favorite and the flowers were really meant for her as a thank you for…” I trail off as I almost tell him how she pushed me to kiss him. Cami urged me to go after what I wanted and to stop thinking. Seth didn’t make the moves first. He always let me do it. Times have changed.

“Buttercups?”

“The ranunculus. These ones,” I say and I have to lean forward to reach. I don’t like the way he looks down at me when I look up at him. He’s uncertain; I can see it so clearly.

The realization makes me withdraw, pulling the throw blanket tighter around me before tossing it off altogether. I’m falling into old habits, when I shouldn’t. Everything is different now.

“I have to wash my face and get ready for bed,” I tell him with a sigh as I stand up. “I had a twelve-hour shift and another tomorrow.”

There’s only so much a person can take. I aim to walk around him, but he stops me, cupping my elbow in his hand and then pulling me into his chest. Have I ever given into his warmth as easily as I do now? Sagging into his chest without hesitation. Closing my eyes and breathing him in. My arms wrap around him and I hold him lightly as he pets my hair and then plants a kiss on my temple.

“I’m tired,” I whisper. “And I don’t know what we are.” Insecurity rises and with the last statement my eyes open. “What are we doing?” I ask him.

With sleep pulling me under, it’s hard to remember why I gave myself to him last night.

“We’re feeling better,” he reminds me.

It’s difficult to imagine that this is better. With all the doubt surrounding me.

“Do you forgive me for leaving you?” The moment the question is spoken, I wish I could take it back. Seth’s warm embrace turns stiff and it takes a long moment before he answers, “Don’t asks questions you don’t want the answers to.”

A sad smile plays along my lips. It turns sadder when he goes about petting my hair again and the arm he has around my waist holds me closer to him.

Maybe one day. I don’t believe the thought enough to speak it.

Peeking up from his hold, I get a good look at the tattoo on his bicep. The thin lines are clean but so close to one another, I can only imagine the ink will bleed together and all it will be is a solid black ring.

“You got more,” I comment and run my finger along them.

“More years to remember,” he tells me solemnly.

“Didn’t you skip a year?” I say but my memory is so foggy.

He only looks down at me questioningly. His eyes are tired and he needs to shave. “Your stubble’s turning into a beard.”

He doesn’t say anything, again he only watches me as I leave his embrace, making my way to the bathroom. It’s hot and cold with him and I don’t know what to think.

“Is there anyone else?” he finally asks the moment I turn to go to the bathroom and get on with bed, with or without him.

“Anyone else?” The confusion settles into a crease in my forehead.

“Are you seeing anyone else?”

“No.” I huff out the response. “I haven’t seen anyone in… over a month now.”

“Good. When I said you’re mine, I meant it.” His tone is hard and unforgiving, like I’ve done something wrong.

“Why do you want me?” I breathe out with exasperation.

“To have you when I want.” Seth’s answer is bullshit and selfish.

So I hurt him back. “That’s the only reason you ever kept me, isn’t it?”

“Only reason you ever stayed, isn’t it?” My response may have been a slap to the face. His is a bullet to my heart.

With my back to him, I sulk to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to run as hot as it can. With a hand on either side of the sink, I stare at the clear water swirling down the drain, waiting for the steam to come.

Seth isn’t quiet when he comes up behind me, and I meet his gaze in the mirror.

“I mean it,” Seth says again like it’s a warning.

“Mean what?” I say and whip around, pissed off.

“You’re mine.”

“Seth… I am very much aware of that.” It’s all I can say. I won’t deny it.

“Good.” He gives the one-word response before grabbing my thighs and pulling me into his arms. His touch is fire, possessive and full of need.

It shocks me. Even as my back hits the tiled wall of the bathroom and his lips crash against mine. The wind is knocked out of me from the sudden wave of desire.

Tags: W. Winters, Willow Winters Romance
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