“Here.” Embry handed me his balled-up T-shirt—I’d missed him stripping it off, a prize indicator that my brain was a trip right now. “I’m sorry.”
“Get dressed, son.”
“No.”
Sighing, I took the shirt and brought it to the mess on my face. Made it worse if Embry’s expression was anything to go by.
Didn’t care when it propelled him forward to help me.
His skin.
Fuck. I was a riot of emotions I wasn’t built to withstand, but for a fleeting joyride of a moment, the hypnosis of how fucking close he was obliterated everything else.
His body heat singed my face.
He was the one obsessed with how things smelt, but his scent blew my mind.
I needed it and I couldn’t stop myself seizing his hips and dragging him into my lap.
It was the same position we’d fucked in—in that hotel room a few days ago. I’d never come so hard in my life. Like, half convinced my internal organs were gonna come out when I blew. I still couldn’t think about it as if it was a real memory, but perhaps that was all we were destined to be.
Embry rebelled against my hold on him.
I wondered if he’d punch me again.
Or kiss me.
He did neither. Just banged his head on my shoulder and groaned like his entire fucking soul was being torn in two. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” I rubbed his back. Gripped the nape of his neck and buried my face in his throat. “I’m not trying to bang you up here, I swear.”
He spoke against my bicep. Then he raised his head and all I saw in his face was pain. Physical. Mental. Horrific.
You did this. Unfuck it.
But I couldn’t, and he knew it.
Embry placed a hand on my chest and pushed me back, putting clear air between us, though he remained on top of me. “I wasn’t talking about sex. Truth is, I’d probably let you fuck me up here, but if I can’t look you in the face without wanting to lamp you it’ll never be the same.”
“I—”
“No. I’ll die before I have hate sex with you.”
“You hate me, cielito?”
Embry wrapped an arm around his abdomen, an unconscious action that took me back to the dark, horrible days when he’d been hurting so much for so long, I couldn’t see how it would ever stop. “I hatemyself.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew.”
No.He couldn’t have done. Not even Alexei who’d been up my arse for months had known. I’d seen it in the Russian’s face.
Embry hadn’t known either. If he had, the depth of his shock now made no fucking sense.
A long time ago, he’d taught me to stop and think when what Saint was trying to say was more than the literal words he spoke. My hands were still gripping his hips. I let them slide away, giving him more space than he’d asked for. “What did you know, Em? Because if it wasn’t that I was hiding my whole fucking life...”
“I knew you had a secret. Cam did too—he thought it was me.Us. He thought we were banging and we hadn’t told anyone.”
