Emotion works in her eyes. “Indy,” she replies softly, “neither do you.”
Oh.
This time, when I pull Bea in for a kiss, I frame her face with both hands.
When the worries try to creep in—that she can’t like the feel of metal on her skin, that she’s grossed out by it, that she’s only allowing me to touch her out of pity—I shove them away.
I focus on how beautiful she is.
How strong.
How special.
“Indy.” Her pupils dilate as our lips draw closer. “You’reamazing.”
I could argue with her.
Tell her I’m just a man who was lucky enough to find incredible people to support me.
That she’s truly the amazing one, and I’m still not entirely sure I’m good enough to be with her.
That there are still things about me she doesn’t know. Things much darker than a prosthetic hand or acting like an ungrateful shit in the hospital.
But when she looks at me like that, like she’s desperate to kiss me…
How can I not?
So I do.
Gently at first. I nip at her lower lip, then caress my tongue across it.
She makes a sexy sound in the back of her throat and opens her mouth, inviting me in.
I taste her sweetness. Her warmth. I stroke her tongue with mine, coaxing her to mimic my movements.
The kiss shifts from tender to passionate. Bea’s hands tangle in my hair, tugging hard enough to bring a small sting of pain.
I reach under her shirt to palm her breast. It’s small but plump and soft, fitting perfectly in my hand. With my thumb, I flick her extended nipple while absently wondering what it would be like to taste it.
What if I laid Bea out right here on the couch, right now? Peeled off her clothes and kissed her all over? Spread her legs and dove between them, working her with my mouth and fingers until her hips are jerking and she’s mindless with pleasure?
What would it be like to sink into Bea? To feel her slickness welcoming me in, her muscles quivering around me, the tight walls clutching at me with every plunge?
What sounds would she make then?
Would they be soft, sexy little moans? Or would she cry out? Would she shout my name?
As we kiss, my mind creates a vision of all of it.
A dream, perhaps.
Or maybe, one day, a reality.
Then my stupid phone chimes.
Bea jerks away, the fear I hate seeing flashing in her eyes again.
“It’s okay.” I pull out my phone and scan the display. Just as I thought, based on the sound of the alert, it’s just Ace disarming the alarm system as he returns from his run. “It’s just Ace. Nothing to worry about.”
