"You don't have to change who you are?—"
"Don't I?" I whirl to face him, anger and frustration boiling over. "Because it feels like I have to become someone different to survive this. Like I can’t just be me. I have to pretend to be okay with learning to use a gun. I have to pretend to be okay with hiding when I’d rather go find him myself, but I know that would just mean getting hurt again. I have to be okay with—”Losing you again,I almost say, but I bite it back at the last moment.
"You are being you." He steps closer, his eyes intense. "You’re the woman who fought off an attacker and escaped. The woman who's dealing with what happened and figuring out how to live with it day by day until she can start to heal from it. The woman who's brave enough to learn skills she finds morally questionable because she knows they might save her life."
"I don't feel brave," I whisper. "I feel broken and scared and completely out of control. And I don’t want to fight with you, but I can’t?—”
Elio looks at me, confusion on his face. “Can’t what, Annie?”
Something about the way he says my name snaps something inside of me. I take three steps forward, crossing the space between us, and wrap my hands around his upper arms as I lean in and press my mouth to his.
It isn’t the soft, gentle brush of lips that was the first time I kissed him here. I lean into him, feeling every hard line of his body, the way his cock instantly stiffens against me when my mouth crashes into his.He’s mine, I realize,even if he won’t admit it. His body reacts instantly to my touch, his rigid length digging into my thigh as his arousal spikes faster than I could have thought possible, his hands dropping to my hips as he lets out a choked groan. I trace my tongue over his lower lip, and his mouth opens, one hand rising to go to the back of my head and tangle in my hair as his tongue meets mine.
The moan that spills into his mouth is breathless, desperate. I don’t want to stop, don’t want to slow down. I wanthim. I want more. I arch into him, rolling my hips against that stiff length, nipping at his lower lip in a frantic urge to get him to touch me, to give me the pleasure I desperately need.
This feels like before. Like eleven years ago, in the grass outside on the O’Malley estate, Elio’s body over mine as he devoured my mouth. I can almost smell the sunshine, the warm wool blanket underneath me, the grass, and the nearby scent of the barn—hay, and dust mingled together. This feels like the moment before he left me, and I don’t want him to leave me again.
“Elio—” I breathe his name against his lips, my hands reaching down for his belt. Instantly, he grabs my wrists, shaking his head as he pulls them away.
“We can’t,” he rasps. “Not like this. Not right now. We won’t stop…Iwon’t stop.”
“So don’t,” I moan, arching back toward his lips. “We don’t have to. I want you.”
"Annie—"
“Please.” I touch my forehead to his, breathing hard. “Elio, please?—”
He makes a sound low in his throat, a pained growl, and spins me around, my back against the counter as he looks down at me. “Do you know what would happen to me if Ronan found out?” he growls. “Do you understand what you’re asking? My God, Annie, I like to think I’m a good man, but I’m still just a fucking man. AndGod, I want you. You’re killing me,cuore mio.”
“This doesn’t feel like you want me,” I whisper. “It didn’t feel like that before, either. When you walked away.”
"I do want you." The words come out rough, desperate. "More than I've ever wanted anything in my life."
"Then stop pulling away from me." I rise on my tiptoes, pressing my body against his, and I feel him shudder. "Ronan won’t find out. He’ll never know. This doesn’t have to—Ineedyou, Elio. I need more.”
He groans, a sound that's half pleasure and half torture. “Fuck,”he hisses, his jaw so tight that it looks as if it hurts, and then his mouth crashes down on mine.
This time, there's nothing careful or controlled about the kiss. It's desperate and hungry and full of years of suppressed longing. I arch against him, desperate for more contact, more proof that this is real and happening and not just another fantasy I've conjured to escape reality.
"We should go upstairs," I gasp against his mouth. "The bed?—"
"No." He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. "Not the bed."
"Why not?"
"Because if we go upstairs, if we get into that bed together, I won't be able to stop. And once we cross that line..."
“Elio—” I know what he means. That we’re going to stop at some point. A frisson of disappointment runs through me, at thesame moment that I feel the racing burn of anticipation at the implication that we’re going to dosomething.
Is he just going to finger me again? Let me get him off? Are we going to stop where we’ve stopped before?
Or…
“I’ll give you more,” he murmurs as he leans in to kiss me again, his mouth gentler this time against mine. “But we do it on my terms. Because I’m the one who’s going to get hurt when this all falls apart, Annie.”
I’m the one who’s going to get hurt.Suddenly, I don’t think he just means Ronan. I don’t think he just means physically. My chest burns at the implication that he feels more for me, too—that I’m going to break his heart.
Elio’s hands drop to my hips as he kisses me, his hands sliding the edge of my sweater up. I changed into a thick wool sweater and jeans for the outdoor shooting practice, and I’m too hot now, my skin burning all over. I’m utterly grateful when he strips it off and tosses it onto the floor, leaving me in my sports bra and jeans as his hands roam over my ribs, skimming over my breasts through the tight material.
