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“By?” He’s still not looking at me.
“You.”
Finally, he turns to face me. Dark eyes pin mine, and I fight the urge to squirm. “Did you like it when I kissed you?”
My lips part, but no words sound. I’m not sure I have any words to sound.
He waits, not once looking away from me.
“I—”
“Don’t lie to me,” he cautions low.
I close my mouth, because I’d been about to do exactly that. Instead of answering, I deflect, “Did you like it?”
“Yes.”
I frown. “Don’t lie to me, Tav.”
He drops his arm from the back of the couch, his hand connecting with the skin at the back of my neck. His thumb slides down the side of my neck, up and down again, as his eyes take in my face. I think my heart stutters—maybe it even skips an entire sequence of beats—in my chest. He’s so warm, his skin against mine. So rough against my soft. He’s only touching my neck, but I feel like I’m seconds from bursting.
“Tav,” his name falls husky into the space between us. I don’t understand what’s happening right now.
“Say it again, Princess.”
I shake my head, confused. Say what again?
He leans closer, his eyes on my lips now. “Say. It. Again.”
“Tav?” It’s a protest, because I honestly don’t know what he wants me to say.
He covers my mouth with his, invading when I gasp. There is nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s hard, hot, and wet. He tastes like salt and butter with a hint of rum—and all him. His hand around the back of my neck pins me in place as he shifts his body to press into mine. Again, it’s a clash of hard against soft as his free hand moves to my hip, and he physically shifts my body until I’m lying, back arched slightly over the arm of the couch with his big body hovering over mine. Thankfully, my legs are clamped closed. His body brackets mine, one knee planted into the couch, his other foot on the floor. He is kissing me so deeply; I feel as though he’s trying to climb inside me.
My heart skitters as he pulls back to nip my bottom lip. “Christ.” He kisses me hard. Another nip, the tip of his tongue soothes, and he kisses me deep again. My head spins, my heart rioting against my ribs. The points of his fingertips nip into my hip as his hand moves from the back of my neck to the front, his big palm flat against my breastbone, fingertips splayed wide and to the side of my throat.
Every inch of my skin is on fire. Between my legs, he’s ignited a flame I can’t douse. I feel empty, needing something I know instinctively only he can give me. He pulls back from the bruising kiss as a whimper spills into the space between us, a plea from the depths of me that he answers with a softer kiss that melts me.
I feel shaken to the core.
What. In. The. World?
“I’ve been thinking of kissing you every minute of every day since I tasted your mouth.” His words are an unwilling truth. “You’re no good for me, Princess. You—being here—it’s not good. Not for either of us.”
He’s still hovering above me, but his words are like a bucket of ice water that seeps through skin to freeze the marrow of my bone.
I’m not sure if I want to beg him to kiss me or kick him in the gonads, stomp to my room, and slam the door.
Instead, I whisper, “Why?”
I hate that my hurt sounds loud in that single word. Hate that I know, as he searches my eyes with his dark ones, that my own are a reflection of everything I’m feeling. Because in this moment, I can’t pull that plastic smile onto my face. I can’t hide my raw-to-the-bone feelings behind practiced deflection.
He’s stripped me bare with a kiss.
I can only imagine what he’d do to me if he decided to take all I had to give. Surely, flay my very soul.
Finally, he answers. His words break me.
“Because there’s too much water under our bridge. It’s dirty, toxic water, Princess.” His eyes beg me to understand. It’s the softest, most raw I’ve seen the man look since I came to him. If his words hadn’t shattered me, the look in his eyes would have done the trick. “We’ll only hurt each other if we stay like this.”
