I almost kissed her this morning, and again this afternoon. When she talked, I stared at her lips, wondering what they taste like.
When I held her in my arms after the conversation with Gray, I ached to feel her bare skin against mine.
I need her on a level I’ve never felt for another woman, and I’m not strong enough to resist her much longer.
The tub starts to drain in the next room, and a few minutes later, Camille opens the bathroom door.
A cloud of coconut-scented steam swirls around her, going straight to my head.
A growl rumbles out of my chest.
Jesus. She smells good enough to eat.
I take her in, from her damp auburn locks, to my flannel skimming her body, down to her cute painted toes. She’s a vision of beauty.
I clear my throat. “I’ll grab a fast shower. If you see or hear anything at all, come get me.”
“O-okay.”
I cup her cheek, feathering my thumb over her damp skin, then pull on every ounce of discipline I have and head into the bathroom.
The military teaches us to take fast showers. I set a speed record tonight.
When I open the bathroom door, I find Camille sitting on the floor of the hall, knees tucked up to her chest.
I drop to my knees beside her. “Princess? Talk to me.”
“I didn’t want to be alone. Until I’m free of my father and Aiden, you feel like my only safe haven. I know I shouldn’t say that.”
“Come here, sweetheart.” I gather her against my chest. “You can say whatever you want. Whatever’s in your heart.”
She leans in and her arms slowly come around my back. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes.”
She draws a breath and holds it, then lets it out slow. “Will you stay with me again tonight?”
All my reasons for keeping distance between us fade. “Yeah, princess.”
She tilts her head back to spear me with those intense eyes. “Will you hold me, Bronco? Like this morning? Like now?”
Hell. If that’s what she needs from me, I won’t deny her.
Who knows how much time we have left?
“I’ll hold you all night if that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
I gently scoop her into my arms and carry her to my bed.
It’s different than last night, when I tucked her in. That was before I held her. When the professional boundary lay between us like a canyon.
Tonight, I won’t hold her the way my body is begging to, but it’s enough.
Camille had already turned down the covers. I lay her on the bed, then turn off the lamp, shed my sweatpants, and climb in beside her.
This time, I reach for her, drawing her into the shelter of my body. Her back settles against my front, her bottom pressing against my hips, and I slide an arm under her head to cushion her.
