“Would you have let me in if I knocked?”
No. Not after his dramatic exit. Not after telling me to stay away for my own good. We both knew it.
The position suddenly felt even more intimate. Me between his thighs, his chest mostly bare where I’d had to cut away his shirt, both of us breathing too carefully in the dim light of my livingroom. This was insane. Everything about this was completely insane.
“This is insane,” I muttered, smoothing down the last bandage with more care than necessary. “You’re insane. I’m insane for not calling the cops. Or animal control. Or an exorcist.”
“You’re not going to call the cops.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you already would have.”
He was right, the bastard. Instead of pulling back now that I was done, I found myself frozen there, hands hovering just above the bandages. There was no medical reason to stay this close. But I couldn’t seem to move.
“I should move,” I said, making absolutely no effort to do so.
“Probably,” he agreed, eyes dark and focused on my face with an intensity that made my stomach flip.
My fingers finally made contact with his skin, just barely grazing along his chest, and the same electricity from before raced through us both. Not the overwhelming flood of foreign emotions, but heat and need and connection that made me gasp. His hands came up to cover mine, holding them against his chest.
“Lina...” My name on his lips sounded almost pained.
The electricity was different this time, warm and alive between us. My hands were trapped under his on his chest, and I couldfeel his heartbeat racing to match mine. Every point of contact between us sparked and burned in the best way.
“Lina,” he said again, rougher now. “You should…”
“If you tell me what I should do one more time, I swear-”
He cut me off by tugging my hands higher on his chest, holding them there against skin that felt fever-warm. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“From what? The beasts? Too late. One already tried to eat me today.”
He flinched, jaw tightening. “That was my fault.”
“How could that possibly-”
“It just was.” His thumbs stroked across my knuckles, and the electricity intensified, spreading up my arms in waves of heat. “Everything that’s happened. The danger you’re in. It’s because of me.”
“You’re not making sense.” But my voice came out breathy and wrong because he was leaning forward now, closing the already minimal distance between us.
“Nothing about this makes sense,” he agreed, voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Not the way I can’t stay away from you. Not the way you make me forget every rule I’ve ever set for myself. Not... this.”
His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheek with devastating gentleness. The touch sent sparks down my spine, made my whole body feel alive and aware in ways thatdefinitely weren’t appropriate for treating wounds at three in the morning.
“I should go,” he said, making absolutely no move to release me. If anything, his grip on my hands tightened.
“Probably,” I agreed, leaning into his touch because apparently I had no self-control whatsoever.
We were so close now I could see flecks of blue in the gray of his eyes. Could smell pine and rain and copper. Could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Every breath he took moved my hands on his chest, and every breath I took seemed to draw me closer.
“But you’re not going to,” I whispered.
“No,” he admitted, voice rough with want. “I’m not.”
The space between us crackled with inevitability. My hands were still pressed to his chest, his skin warm and alive under my palms, and I could feel the exact moment his control started to crack. The moment mine shattered completely.
His thumb traced along my jaw, and I turned into the touch without thinking. His other hand was still covering both of mine on his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat hammering against my palm. Fast. Desperate. Matching mine perfectly.
