Shadow looks destroyed.
Beautifully, dangerously destroyed.
For a second, neither of us speaks.
Then his hand slides to my jaw, rough and careful, and he pulls me up his body into his arms.
I go willingly, suddenly shy now that the boldness has burned down.
He kisses me, deep and filthy and tender in a way that makes my throat ache.
When he pulls back, his hand cups the back of my head.
“You good?” he asks.
I nod.
His eyes narrow. “Words.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’m good.”
“Good girl.”
My stomach flips.
Of course he feels it.
His mouth brushes my ear. “That one too, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Not a chance.”
I hide my face against his chest, which is a mistake because he smells like skin and heat and something terrifyingly close to mine.
His arm locks around me again. His lips brush my hair.
“Sleep, love.”
I close my eyes.
Curled against the most dangerous man I’ve ever met.
Feeling safer than I have any right to feel.
Chapter 8
Talia
Thephonebuzzesagainstthe motel carpet.
Once.
Then again.
The sound slides into my dream like a wasp.
I wake with Jayce’s arm locked around my waist, his chest hot against my back, and weak morning light leaking around the curtains.
