“You’re scared.”
“Damn right, I am.” She waves a hand down her front. “I’m a mess inside and nobody needs to?—”
I lean in, press my forehead to hers. “You’re not a mess. You’re strong and beautiful and smart and talented and?—”
“Stop,” she whispers.
“No,” I tell her. “You’re a good person and you’ve been through so much and you’re still here, baby. You’re still fighting and thriving and?—”
“Stop.”
“I couldn’t protect my sister and went off half-cocked, beating up that guy, paying the price for it, but that doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t protect her in the first place.”
“Damon—”
“But you, baby, you tried to save them even though you were fighting for your own life?—”
“I didn’t, and I didn’t protect the women on the team.” Her voice breaks and she leans back. “If I had, things would have been different and Ivy and the others wouldn’t have?—”
“You were scared and hurt, baby. You did what you could.”
She shakes her head, pushes away from me, shoulders slumping as she whispers, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to talk about the past anymore. It’s over and there’s nothing I can do to change it.”
I can give her that play.
If we keep digging at the wounds of our pasts they’ll never heal.
And I don’t want her to hurt anymore.
“Okay, baby,” I say softly. “Then whatdoyou want to talk about?”
“What if I said that I didn’t want to talk at all?” She leans in, hand settling on my chest, drifting lower.
My dick goes hard in an instant, but I catch her hand before it can get there.
“Red”—I press a kiss to her palm—“I didn’t bring you here for this.”
“I know.” Her mouth curves. “But I’ve dreamed about it for a long time. Will you…” Her lips press flat then release, reddening those plump lips of hers. “Will you give that to me?” she whispers. “Will you fill me up?”
Christ, this is dangerous as fuck.
All of it.
From showing up on her porch to hanging out with Beth and John to bringing her to my room, all of it is dumb as hell. But the constant push-pull of want and doing what’s right is?—
It’s all empty.
How are you going to make it better for her?
I can’t keep it up any longer—the distance, the keeping my needs in check, doing the right thing because it’s the right thing.
So I finally…just give in.
Weaving my fingers into her hair, I tilt her head back. Wide green eyes. Pink cheeks. Kissable lips.
Gorgeous heart.
I lower my mouth to hers and the first touch of her lips against mine is electric.
