“No,” I whispered. “You’re right. I can’t. I don’t know what you’ve been through or are going through. I cannot imagine the danger in the profession you’ve chosen, but I do know one thing.”
When he managed to look at me if only for a couple of seconds, my heart started to melt. “What?”
“I know you. You’re an amazing man with a heart of gold.”
His laugh was bitter, a man going through an unspeakable tragedy who doubted everything about himself. “Like I said, it should have been me.”
“No, Stephen. That’s not true. It shouldn’t have been anyone.” I brushed my hand down his back, marveling in every muscle, every inch of ink covering his skin that hadn’t been there before.
He closed his eyes and I noticed his body was shaking, every muscle tense. The way he was holding his glass was with so much force, I was fearful he would crush it between his fingers.
“Just remember that he’ll always be with you in your heart and soul. And I do believe he’s looking down on you, very proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”
Whether or not he was listening to me I couldn’t quite tell, but when he turned around to face me, I prepared for an onslaught of anger.
His eyes were filled with various emotions, but not the rage I’d anticipated.
Something entirely different.
Something that looked very much like desire.
Very slowly I removed the glass from his hand, stretching so I could place it out of harm’s way. In doing so, our bodies were crowded together. So close. So full of extreme heat.
Seconds ticked by, each one more agonizing than the one before. I was lost in the man and the moment, trying desperately to control my emotions as I pulled my hand free. Every breath he took was labored, hot enough that when he exhaled, it felt as if he’d seared my skin. Very slowly I lifted my head.
Our eyes locked.
My heart thudded, jarring with its power.
“Fuck,” he whispered, the sound full of anguish.
The way his jaw clenched was unnerving, touching on the same behavior of years before, but there was a significant difference. As if the man had finally come into his own, more possessive.
Full of the kind of hunger typically reserved for two people in love.
Something we would never be.
He cupped the side of my head, his fingers tangling in my long, damp strands as his eyes darted back and forth across mine. The way his chest was heaving should be concerning as his emotional overload was as electrifying as the desire swirling around us.
I clamped my hand on his shirt, twisting and tugging, pulling him even closer. I’d never wanted anyone the way I did him. The rush of heat was insatiable, the longing pushing me into thoughts that no good girl should be thinking.
If only he would take every inch of me.
Tasting.
Claiming.
I need to feel the heat of his body close to mine.
With my breathing shallow, I eased onto my tiptoes until I was the one pushing our lips closer together. Lightheaded, I could feel my body swaying and the butterflies I’d felt earlier had returned. He was so rugged, so handsome yet so very tortured.
He slowly shook his head, debating on the moment. I was certain he’d shut this down, pushing us away. When he slid his hand to the back of my head, fisting a handful of hair, a slow and easy moan slipped past my lips.
“This is wrong,” he finally managed, his nostrils flaring as he tried to pull himself free of the touch of magic.
“Maybe.”But I don’t care.
“God fucking help me.” With a slight laugh, another shake of his head, he tossed away the notion.
