“Everything will be okay.” I take a tentative step toward him. “We can figure this out together.”
His eyes jump wildly around the room before he drops his head into his hands, his shoulders hunching forward. “God, Sunny. How can that be? I ... WhatamI?”
“You’re Ethan Lee.” I pull his hands away from his face and force him to meet my gaze. “You’re smart and funny, but stubborn as hell. You’reinfuriating, but loyal, brave, and kind to the core. Ethan, you’re my friend. That’swhoyou are.”
He’s so still I can’t even feel him breathing. I just hope my words mean as much to him as his words meant to me. I hope he feels seenthe way I felt seen. I want to take away his hurt. I want him to know that he will always be Ethan to me.
“Ethan.” Holding his face between my hands, I press my forehead against his. “Say something.”
When he reaches out and pulls me toward him, I go to him without hesitation. With tenderness that wrenches my heart, he runs the pad of his thumb across my cheek, then traces the outline of my lips.
“Sunny,” he says in a broken rasp. “I need to kiss you.”
“Then do it.” I entwine my trembling arms around his neck. Then, not wanting to sound too bossy for once, I add, “Please.”
I thought his kiss would be soft and gentle, like the first rays of sunshine brushing awake the worlds. But I’m wrong. His lips are hot and hungry against mine, and every nerve ending in my body lights up. When I gasp at the sharp flash of pleasure, he plunges his tongue into my mouth, possessive and greedy. I whimper and push onto my toes.
I didn’t realize kissing could feel like this. My first few decades in the United States were about survival, much of it spent disguised as a boy. When the human world slowly changed and being a young, single woman wasn’t a danger in and of itself, I began to breathe a little easier, live a little more. So there have been stolen kisses, some drunken groping. But nothing has ever felt like this kiss.
Ethan’s hand slips free from my hair and smooths down my side to the dip of my waist, to the flare of my hips. His touch is greedy, curious, and reverent all at once, and I can only think,More. When his hand slides back up and cups my breast, I lean into his touch and grind my hips against him, led by pure instinct.
His low growl reverberates through me, and moisture gathers between my legs. He dips his head and kisses the swell of my breasts spilling over the top of my skirt. I dig my fingers into his hair and hold him against me. His tongue slips under the fabric and brushes the hard tip of my breast and I moan, throwing back my head.
When he crushes his mouth against mine, I know whatever control he has left hangs by a precarious thread. With a trembling hand, hereaches for the tie at my chest holding my skirt up. I freeze, my heart stuttering.If you do this, imagine how much more it’ll hurt to lose him.Losing him will already hurt more than I’m ready to admit.
Sex is an indulgence I never allowed myself. I never let anyone get close enough—I never trusted anyone enough—to experience this kind of intimacy. And there has never been anyone I wanted to share myself with. Until Ethan.
But is this passion even real? Maybe we’re just desperate to escape from the horrors of reality. And being on the run wreaked havoc on our equilibrium and probably amped up our libido. Adrenaline makes you horny, right? We both want a distraction ... a release. That’s all this is. Even if any of these feelings are real—and they aren’t—they can’t possibly last. Whatever this is, it’s fleeting. It has to be.
I trap his hand against my chest, and he stills immediately, dropping his other hand to his side. His eyes are wild, but he’ll never push me to do anything I’m not ready for. I trust him. And Idesperatelycrave this closeness with him. That’s why I can’t have this—I can’t havehim.
“Ethan,” I whisper.
“God, I’m sorry.” He presses his forehead against mine, fighting for his breath and his control. When I let go of his hand, he grasps my bare shoulders, his thumbs moving in slow circles. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just ...” I stumble over my words. “I’m not ...”
“You’ve been through a lot today,” he says, pressing my head against his chest. I feel the reassuring thud of his heart against my cheek. “Hell, I’ve been through a lot. I shouldn’t have let things go so far when you’re vulnerable.”
“Hey, don’t act like I had no part in this.” I lean back and glare up at him. I might headbutt him if he says this was a mistake. I might’ve put a stop to things, but I didn’t regret a single moment of it. “And don’t you dare apologize. I wanted you to kiss me.”
He smiles shyly and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “I hope I haven’t done anything to stop you from wanting me to kiss you again.”
“You haven’t,” I mumble. He must’ve felt me catch fire in his arms. If anything, I wanted him to kiss me more. I step away from him and wave a hand toward his pillow. “And don’t be ridiculous. There’s plenty of room for both of us on the sleeping mat.”
He glances at the bedding the house has so kindly set out for us and huffs an embarrassed laugh. “I guess I can manage to keep my hands off you for one night.”
After a mumbled good night, I scamper under the blanket and turn my back toward him so he won’t see my stupid blush. I squeeze my eyes shut, and Ethan steps quietly out of the room. I hear the soft splash of water outside as he washes up.
I’m still wide awake when he returns to the room and slips under the blanket beside me. I pretend to be asleep, forcing my breathing to slow and even out, but I can feel the heat of his body next to mine.
“Good night, Sunny,” he whispers and drops a featherlight kiss on my temple.
It’s all I can do not to shiver at the fleeting touch. How can I ever fall asleep with Ethan next to me ...
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When I blink open my eyes, the soft morning sun is filtering through the latticed doors of the hanok. I lazily rub my cheek against the warm, smooth skin beneath me and smile at the comforting feel of a strong arm tightening around my back. I burrow deeper into the embrace, breathing in the woodsy musk of his scent.
