“What was that for?” she asked, breathless, the moment I broke away.
I rested my forehead on hers, our noses bumping as I stole another moment with her that I didn’t deserve. “I should have kissed you.”
Her lips twitched. “My fault for being horny when I first woke up. Next time, I’ll give you time to brush your teeth.”
I chuckled but kept my touch gentle as I stroked her cheek. “You okay?”
Amelia turned her head away from me and studied the bed. Specifically, where the wooden frame had cracked and collapsed. “Do you happen to have tools in your little cave of wonders down in the cellar?”
I wasn’t going to let her get away with changing the conversation like that. I cupped her chin in my palm and turned her attention back to me. “Are. You. Okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied with a cheery lilt to her tone.
I didn’t buy it.
“Amelia—”
“I’m fine,” she said, just a little more softly. “I wanted it.”
“Just because you wanted it doesn’t mean it was great. You can want something and it sucks.”
Insecurity flashed across her face as she chewed on her lip. “Was it good for you?”
My eyebrows hit my hairline, and I let out a caustic laugh. “Good?”
“I don’t know!” she shouted. “I just—I don’t want to be awful at it!” God, I hated seeing her insecure. She had nothing to be insecure about. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.
Amelia Jane Hawthorne was the most perfect thing in this life. And for some godforsaken reason, she had deemed me worthy of to hold her perfection.
Slowly, I backed her up. The thump of her spine hitting the wall was accented by her sharp inhale. “You couldn’t be bad at it if you tried.” I smoothed my thumb across her lip. “But in the event that you’d like to study a little more—you know, to continue your education—I’m a willing tutor, Dr. Hawthorne.” Our lips brushed as she tipped her chin up, seeking my mouth. “But you don’t need it. You’re perfect. Every piece of you. Every breath. Every sound that comes out of these perfect lips. Flawless. Inside and out.” I kissed her softly this time. Sweetly. The antithesis of everything I had become over the last few years. “If you need a reminder of just how perfect I find you, I’m happy to oblige.”
Her blush was the prettiest sunrise I’d ever seen.
“So I’ll ask you again,” I said as my hand found hers. “Was it good for you?”
Her lashes lowered as she nodded. “Yeah. It . . . It was everything I thought it should be.”
“But was it what you wanted?”
WasIwhat you wanted?I didn’t vocalize that thought. I knew what the answer was.
To my surprise, Amelia leaned forward and rested against my chest. I pulled her off the wall and wrapped my arms around her. “I’ve never wanted sex before. I’ve never . . . wanted someone the way that . . .”
“The way that what?”
“The way that I want you,” she admitted softly.
I forced a soft laugh. It was dry and fake as hell. “I think that’s the Stockholm syndrome talking.”
But Amelia didn’t take the bait. She shook her head. “I’ve been attracted to you since the first night we met at the casino. And then a few nights later, you were a knight in shining armor and kept me from getting drugged by your boss. You probably got in trouble for that.”
She was right that Valentine had been pissed when Amelia bailed after he drugged her drink, but he hadn’t lashed out the way he usually did when something didn’t go his way.
“And then there was that time you sat beside me for five minutes on the beach.” Amelia let out a sigh that was halfway between a huff and a laugh. “I tried so hard to get you out of my mind. I was so into you, but you kept messing up my plans . . .” She traced the thick veins that snaked up the back of my hand and forearm. “And in hindsight, I like you even more because I realized you were just trying to keep me from getting hurt.”
“That’s the chloroform talking,” I whispered.
Amelia looked up at me, eyes locking on mine. “I think you’re a good man, Jude Greear.”
