“I don’t feel rushed.”
“You’re shaking.”
“So are you.”
He looked down between us and let out a rough laugh. “Yeah. I am.”
That softened me in a place I didn’t expect.
I touched the side of his face, my thumb brushing near the fading bruise. “You’re cold.”
“I’m getting warmer.”
“Easton.”
His eyes lifted to mine. The teasing dimmed, replaced by something so focused my pulse tripped.
“I’m here,” he said.
The words were simple and didn’t feel simple.
I curled my fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him down. He came willingly, his mouth finding mine again, his body settling more fully between my thighs. The kiss turned slower for a moment, deeper, almost reverent, until I couldn’t tell where apology ended and want began.
His hand slid lower, gripping my hip, holding me still as his body pressed into mine with a restraint that made me ache.
I broke the kiss with a gasp. “East.”
He froze.
Not from hesitation.
From the name.
His eyes closed briefly, and when they opened, the look in them almost made me whisper it again just to watch him survive it.
“You can call me that,” he said, voice low. “Anytime you want.”
I swallowed. “East.”
His control fractured.
His mouth came down on mine again, and this time, the kiss went wild. He gathered me up against him, rolling us until I was higher on the pillows and he was over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other sliding beneath my back to pull me closer. My legs tightened around his hips, and he groaned when I moved against him, the sound rough enough to make heat flood through me.
He pulled back, breathing hard, his forehead pressed to mine. “We need to talk about rules.”
I laughed, breathless and shaking. “Right now?”
“Right now.”
“You are lying on top of me.”
“I noticed.”
“You have terrible timing.”
“I’m trying to have good timing for once in my life.”
That sobered me fast.
