When I turned back, he was right there. I hadn’t heard him approach.
My heart skittered to a stop before galloping into a frantic rhythm as I froze. “Oh! You scared me!”
He reached out with a tentative hand to pat my shoulder reassuringly. The attempt was to comfort, but the contact only served to raise my heart rate even further.
He had touched me. Unnecessarily and intentionally.
My belly warmed.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
I inhaled deeply. “Don’t apologize—I’m the one with the bad hearing.”
“You really do have impressively… subtle senses,” he mused. “It’s a miracle you can hear anything at all.”
My mouth dropped open in mock outrage. “How dare you!” I went to swat his hand away, but he caught my wrist and tugged me closer.
Our arms lingered, joined, in the space between us.
My breath faltered, but I didn’t pull away.
I stared up into his eyes. His expression was unreadable. I lifted my fingers to run them over the scar on his eyebrow, unable to resist the urge. The scar was raised, smoother than Iwould have expected but warm and rigid. The short hairs of his eyebrow tickled my sensitive fingertips.
He shuddered. His eyes fell shut.
He stepped closer, his fingers around my wrist loosening. I recognized the action for what it was—a plea. A silent request that I keep touching him.
I happily obliged.
I brought my other hand to his face. I allowed my fingers to explore, to map out his appearance, to memorize the planes of his features. The feel of him, the sight of him, the smell of him.
I cradled his jaw in both of my palms, and his brows furrowed.
“Look at me,” I urged.
He pulled in a slow, deep breath. And then his eyes opened.
Torment lurked in the gold depths of his gaze. A torment so deep it was fathomless. My throat tightened.
I had to swallow before I could speak. “Is this okay?” I asked.
I recalled the last time we had come together—the pure bliss, followed by the trickle of blood down his nose and his anguished, abrupt exit.
I didn’t want to harm him.
He nodded. He searched my eyes, though I wasn’t sure what he was looking for.
I gazed back openly. I laid myself bare, hoping he could see my heart hidden between the freckles of my face.
His expression morphed into something entirely different.
He leaned forward, slowly, until his foreheadrested against mine. He exhaled as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
My eyes drifted shut. I stroked my thumbs over his jawline in what I hoped was a soothing caress.
His hands came to rest on my back for a moment before strong arms wrapped around me.
The hug was hesitant at first, but quickly morphed into something warm and intimate.
