“Bullshit! I saw the two of you talking all close and cute and then on the dance floor. She was all over you. Don’t lie to me.”
“I wouldn’t lie. I swear,” he growls, low in his chest. “Most of our intense discussions were about you. About my feelings foryou.The whole dance floor thing was Brook trying to make you jealous. She said she was sure you still had feelings for me. It may not have been the best idea. She’s really sweet, and she wants us to be together. I went along because I didn’t know what else to do. I was fucking desperate. I still am.”
I stare at him. “Then why did she go with you to the wedding in the first place?”
“I only invited Brook after Ridge told me you were seeing someone. That you would be bringing him to the wedding. I panicked.” He shrugs.
I frown. “No, that isn’t right at all. I only asked Malachite because you were dating Brook. Robyn told me you were getting all hot and heavy with a Red shifter. I didn’t want to give off sad and lonely spinster vibes while you had someone like Brook at your side. I mean, she’s freaking perfect.”
“You’reperfect, Carla. You.” He goes quiet, and I can see him thinking it through. “So you’renotwith Malachite? You’re not dating him or anything?”
“No.” I lick my lips. “I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
He steps right into my space and cups my jaw in one big hand, tilting my face up to his. “I’m in love with you. I’m not seeing anyone else. I want you. It’s only you.”
Warmth blooms right through the middle of me at those words, but underneath it, there’s still that bruise. The one he put there.
“What is it?” His thumb moves against my cheek. “What’s going through your head?”
“The first thing you did when we were rescued was tell me to forget it happened. You pushed me away. You did it again at the hospital.”
“I thought I was getting between you and Flint.” He winces. “I felt bad. I felt fucking terrible. Like the worst friend on Draig. I didn’t realize how miserable not having you in my life would make me. All I’m asking for is a chance. Please. Give us a chance. Give me a chance to make you happy. I realize we don’t know each other very well, but I know what I want. I know how you make me feel.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek.
“Please, Carla. Say something. I’ll give you all the time you need. I won’t push you for more than you’re ready to give me. Maybe we could start with a dinner. Or coffee? We can start small and go from there.”
“No.”
“Please. I’m begging you.” His hand drops from my jaw. “What can I do to make this right? I’ll do anything.”
I smile at him.
“Why are you smiling? I’m being serious here. I’m baring my soul to you.”
“I’m saying no to a coffee.” I take a step closer. “I don’t want to take it slow. Are you kidding me? We’ve been taking it slow for weeks and weeks and weeks, and it isn’t working for me.”
Then I jump.
He catches me, one arm banding under my ass, and my legs go around his hips.
“I want hard, rough sex,” I tell him, my nose an inch from his. “The base kind. I want you to make me come and more than once. Oh, and I think I might be a little bit in love with you, too. I’ve been miserable since Mistveil.”
“You have?” A smile spreads across his face, slow and wide, and it’s devastating. “I’m so fucking happy. I was miserable, too. It ends right now. I’m making you happy.”
He smashes his lips to mine.
There’s nothing careful about it, and I kiss him back the same way. He walks us across my living room while his tongue strokes against mine, then my ass lands on the edge of my dining room table. He stands between my thighs and kisses me some more, hot and hungry, one hand fisted in my hair, the other splayed across my lower back, hauling me against him.
I need his shirt off. That’s a non-negotiable at this point.
I attack the remaining buttons while he kisses along my jaw and down my neck, and when the last one gives, I shove the shirt off his shoulders, and he shrugs out of it and lets it fall.
Shit, but he’s gorgeous.
There are acres of him. Hard muscle everywhere, black markings flowing over his chest and down his ribs, and all of it mine to touch. I flatten my palms against his pecs and take my time about it, and he makes a rough sound of approval against my throat.
Then his hand finds my zipper.
