But he doesn’t even wait for an answer.
He crushes me to him, burying his face in my neck.
He’s squeezing so tight I feel like I’m going to float right out of my body.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, breath stolen from me by his urgency, by his relief.
But he’s already moving.
Stalking like a man possessed, he throws open the doors to the lunchroom, strides inside, and sets me on the counter like I’m something breakable and sacred.
His big hands come up to frame my face, rough thumbs brushing my cheeks like he’s checking for injuries he can’t see.
“Thatcher, I’m?—”
He shakes his head, eyes wild and starving.
He doesn’t want excuses.
He doesn’t need reasons.
He just needs me.
And I am so there for it.
“Dammit, Baby Girl,” he mutters, voice wrecked.
He kisses me.
Hard. Desperate.
Like he thought he’d lost me and only just got me back.
His mouth claims mine with a hunger that knocks the breath out of my lungs and replaces it with his name.
My hands find the front of his flannel, and I clutch it like it’s the only thing holding me up.
And maybe it is.
Because I didn’t expect this.
This man, all rage and tenderness and possessive fire.
He’s shaking like a leaf. His heart is pounding, and he’s kissing me like it’s the end of the world.
Maybe it is.
I don’t know. I just know he’s here with me, and I’m in heaven.
CHAPTER 49
THATCHER
Ishould say something.
Anything.
But I’m not thinking anymore—I’m running on pure, animal instinct.
