“See what?”
“The way you wait for me to come home.” My breath hitched. “The way you don’t eat without me. The way you feel lonely when I am not around.”
“None of this is true.” I lied.
His grip tightened slightly.
“Then why didn’t you call?”
I couldn’t answer, because the truth was a blade. Because I hadn’t called and I simply knew that I couldn’t. Anger tangled with something darker in my chest.
“You don’t get to analyze me,” I snapped.
“I don’t have to. You’re loud about it.”
His face was inches from mine now, and I could feel his breath. I could see the faint scar near his jaw, which made me wonder where it had come from and if he had ever been injured in a way that put his life in danger. I suddenly had the urge to know everything about him.
“You’re furious because you want this,” he said.
“I do not.”
His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth, and heat sparked low in my stomach, traitorous and immediate.
“You want me to stop wanting you,” he murmured.
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Let go of me.”
“No.”
His voice had changed. It was lower now and much rougher. He was no longer being gentle or patient, and the space between us burned with a sense of quiet intensity that made no sense to either of us. His touch scalded my skin in ways I enjoyed being scalded. He released one wrist only to slide his hand to my waist, fingers pressing into my hip. My breathing grew frantic.
“This isn’t tenderness,” I said shakily.
“I never promised tenderness.”
“Then what is this?”
“Truth.”
His mouth brushed against mine, not soft and certainly not hesitant, but claiming instead, as if I belonged to him andhe was no longer being shy about it. I gasped against him, but I didn’t turn away. The kiss deepened, heat surging instantly, anger transmuting into something far more primal. My fingers tangled in his shirt before I could stop myself, and I kissed him back with equal force because I was furious and afraid and I wanted him. I wanted him so much. His hand slid from my hip to the small of my back, pulling me closer. I could sense months of tension, proximity, and unsaid things crashing together all at once.
“You’re still fighting,” he muttered against my mouth.
“Always.”
“Good.”
His teeth grazed my lower lip, and I shivered but only opened my mouth to allow his tongue to delve inside.
“You think this fixes anything?” I challenged.
“No.”
