“You’re wrong.”
My stomach knots as I look at him. A man who has a golden soul, just like Nandi told me. I can see it so easily. Which is why this is impossible to get my head around.
I trace the tattoo over his heart with my pointer finger, concentrating on the camouflaged B at its center. “You couldn’t cover it, could you?”
His throat contracts with a thick swallow. “No.”
That one word, that single syllable has hope blooming in my chest. I continue tracing the B and look up into his eyes—his utterly captivating piercing blue eyes. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been anchored in place by them as I’ve come apart with blissful pleasure from his touch. And the times I’ve just talked about both everything and nothing and he’s listened.
“If you want people to think they’re brown, how come you let me see them that night in your workshop?”
“It was unintentional. I got sawdust in my eyes before you arrived and had to take my contacts out.” He wipes at my frown with a gentle sweep of his thumb. “Then after I saw you fall off the cliff, I wanted to show you.”
“You wanted me to see the real you,” I whisper. “But I jumped, not fell.”
“You were in danger. That’s all I saw.” His jaw tenses.
I slide my hand from his tattoo up over his neck, and to his jaw, curling my fingers around it so I can bring his mouth to mine.
“Idosee you,” I say against his lips before pressing a soft kiss to them. “And you’ll never convince me you’re a bad person. I just don’t believe it.”
“Jude,” he argues.
But I kiss it away, slanting my mouth over his and maneuvering my thighs either side of his hips. I hold his face and lie over him, kissing him with the passion he deserves, and that I so desperately need to let out before it bursts from me like a cannon.
“Ssh, don’t say anything,” I whisper, bringing memories of our first time together in the dark to the forefront of my mind.
He wraps his arms around me in understanding, pulling us both up into a sitting position. I’m wearing one of his T-shirts and no panties because we’ve been unable to keep our hands off one another since I stepped onto his boat. We’ve had sex multiple times already tonight.
But not like this.
I sink my hands into his hair and kiss him deeply, keeping everything slow and gentle. He doesn’t try to rush, either. He just kisses me with a slow, intense passion that makes my entire body buzz with warm energy.
“Slade, I?—”
He kisses the confession from my lips before I take us to a place we can never come back from.
“I know, baby. Believe me, I know.”
My throat aches with the threat of tears, so I kiss him harder, trying to ease it. Trying to pretend this isn’t one of the last times we’ll ever do this.
I reach down and tug at the waistband of his sweatpants. Without words, he holds me up with one arm banded around my waist and pulls them down his thighs.
When he brings me back down, it’s inch by inch onto his waiting cock.
I hold his face between my hands as my body accepts him, stretching around him until I can’t hold back any longer and a whimper passes through my lips.
His eyes glitter and he holds my gaze, slowly rolling my hips with a firm, but careful grip.
The only sound is our breathing and the waves lapping at the base of the boat as we hold onto one another, and he slides in and out of me in delicious deep strokes.
I knew after that first night that I’d never been fucked before until him. And now I realize—I’ve never been made love to before him either.
I’ve never had any of this.
Before him.
“Slade…”
