I move closer.
He watches me. Another step puts me in his space.
I reach out my arms.
I don’t know what he thinks I’m planning, but the hug surprises him. I can tell from the way his body jolts, his sharp gasp.
“Come here,” I say again, running my hands around his hefty ribs, wrapping his big back, pressing forward into that strong, strong chest. Between us, he’s getting harder.
I ignore it, tighten my arms, pull him in, cram my face into his torso so hard it’ll probably bruise.
But what’s a little physical pain in the face of all this hurt? What’s a bruise when your soul’s at stake?
“I lost control with you, Twyla. That night back in DC.”
My smaller, softer body cradles his big, hard one. Giving him safety, affection. Everything I have to give.
“I lost control and almost…”
He almost kissed me. Almost felt something. I get that part of him now, though I still don’t know the why.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you, I wanted her to be you.”
I stiffen for a half second and then pull him closer, so close I feel the beating of his heart against my cheek.
“I’ve got you.” I give him every ounce of strength I have, every drop of affection, all the compassion and—though it hurts—the love I have in me. “I’ve got you, Zion.”
It takes a minute. Maybe two, but at some point, he just…gives in, I guess. His body loses a little of its tension, goes slack, then clamps up again, though this time it’s around me. “This isn’t what I wanted,” he says.
“I know,” I tell him, nuzzling his chest hair. My lips skim over a taut, pink nipple and he shivers. “I know.”
“Hurting you. You know?”
I nod, explore more of him with my lips, my tongue, let my hands drag up and down the sleek muscles of his back.
“I’m fine. It’s fine.”
“Your career.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Wewill.” He shifts his arms higher, wraps them tighter. “Together.”
“Yeah.” I nod, though I’m not entirely sure there’s a solution.
“The world needs more Twyla Hernandez movies.”
I snort.
“Seriously. You’re fucking mesmerizing. You deserve to be a star. And I know it’s why you agreed to the marriage.”
I untwine myself from him and step back. “Partly.”
That evil Zion grin makes a brief appearance. “And partly cause you wanted to get into my pants?”
“What pants?”
We both look down to where his cock’s at full mast between us, the tip, wet with pre-come, bobbing against my midsection.
