“Okay.”
“Okay?”
She offers a small smile. “Okay. I want you to do what’s best for you. Do what makes you happy.”
“And if I choose Seattle?”
I see the hurt flash in her eyes. “Then we cross that bridge when we come to it.”
It’s hope. It’s a chance. She’s giving me a chance, and that’s all I can ask for.
“You have no idea how much I want you right now,” I murmur.
I see the moment she’s registering exactly what I’m saying. What I’m demanding.
I reach for her, my hand wrapping around the back of her neck as I yank her to me.
Chapter Four
SUTTON
His mouth is on mine before I can think or second-guess this decision.
We stumble backward, our hands everywhere at once. He kicks the door shut behind us and presses me against it, his body hard and urgent against mine.
"Sutton," he breathes against my lips. "God, I missed you."
"It's been two days."
"The longest two days of my life."
I should make him work for this more. Make him grovel. Make him prove he means what he said.
But I'm done fighting. Done pretending I don't want this—want him—with every fiber of my being.
My hands slide under his shirt, feeling the defined muscles of his stomach. He groans and pulls back just long enough to yank the shirt over his head.
"You're beautiful," I murmur, running my hands over his chest.
"Says the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen." His fingers find the buttons of my work shirt, fumbling with them. "How many buttons does this thing have?"
I laugh and push his hands away, undoing them myself. "Patience."
"Don't have any." He watches me with dark eyes as I shed my shirt, then my bra. "Not when it comes to you."
His mouth finds my breast, his tongue circling my nipple until I'm gasping and arching into him. My fingers thread through his hair, holding him there.
His hands slide down to my work pants, unfastening them in under three seconds. "Need you so bad." His words come out muffled, his mouth pressed against my neck. His tongue flicks against my skin, followed by the gentle nip of his teeth, before he places soft kisses over the area.
We move to the bed, shedding the rest of our clothes in a desperate tangle of limbs and fabric. When we're finally naked, pressed together skin to skin, I feel something inside me settle.
This. This is right.
His weight above me feels like home. His hands know me. Every kiss is an apology, every touch a promise. He kisses me until I nearly forget my name. The man has a power over me that should scare me.
It doesn’t.
I crave it.
