I land a particularly brutal combination, and something in the bag gives way. Sand starts pouring out onto the ground.
Well, crap.
I step back, my chest heaving, hands on my hips. That’ll need to be fixed.
That's when I feel the weight of being watched. I turn and look at the cabin. She’s at the window… watching me.
Our eyes lock, and even from this distance, I can see the heat in her gaze. The way she's looking at me—taking in my bare chest, my sweat-slicked skin, the violence in every movement.
She wants me.
She may not be ready to admit it yet… not ready to act on it.
But she wants me.
I smirk, and she jerks away from the window, disappearing from view.
Little lass got caught watching.Adorable.
Good. Let her see what she does to me. Let her see the violence I'm capable of, that I keep leashed for her sake.
I head inside and wash the blood from my knuckles at the kitchen sink. I reopened the splits from the other night. Worth it.
“You're going to need new bandages.”
Her voice from the doorway makes every muscle in my body tense. I glance over my shoulder.
She's wearing the tee I gave her last night. It hits her mid-thigh, and her legs are bare. Her hair is messy from sleep, and she looks soft and rumpled and so fucking beautiful it hurts.
“Couldn't sleep,” I say, turning back to the sink.
“Nightmares?”
I shrug, shut off the water, and reach for a towel. “Of what could have happened if I'd been five minutes later last night.”
I feel her move closer.
“But you weren't,” she says softly.
“But I could have been.” I turn to face her, and the concern in her eyes nearly undoes me.
“You didn't lose me.” She reaches up and cups my face. Her palm is soft against my stubble, and I have to fight not to turn into her touch like a starving animal. “I'm right here.”
My hands go to her waist automatically. She's so small in my hands. So breakable.
“I need to shower,” I say roughly, even as I pull her closer. “I'm covered in sweat and?—”
“I don't care.”
“Bianca—”
She kisses me. Actually initiates it this time, rising on her toes to press her mouth to mine.
I tense in surprise for half a second before I melt into her, my hands tightening on her waist, pulling her flush against me.
She gasps at the contact, feeling every ridge of muscle, every scar, every rapid beat of my heart. I'm covered in sweat and blood, and she doesn't care.
She's kissing me anyway.
