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When it’s over, when Ash has finally pulled away from me, we stumble to the bed. He pulls me down with him, tucks me against his body, and holds me for long, lovely minutes.

Chapter 23

Ash

We’re lying in Tansy’s bed and it feels so good—she feels so good—that I want to stay here forever. Spooned up against her, her head on my bicep, my other arm wrapped around her waist. It’s not possible—I know it’s not—but I want it just the same.

I haven’t felt this at peace in a long time.

Even with Logan so upset with me.

Even with so much of my life turned to shit around me.

Being with Tansy doesn’t negate everything else in my life, doesn’t make it seem less important. But holding her, kissing her, making love to her, grounds me in a way nothing has in far too long.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that. What I can do about that. I came here to Chile because I couldn’t not come. Because I was maneuvered into it and because it was the right thing to do. But never, when I got on that plane in Salt Lake City, did it occur to me that five days later I was going to end up here. Wrapped around this beautiful girl—beautiful on the inside as well as the outside—and wondering how the hell I’m supposed to go back to a life that doesn’t have her in it.

Just the thought has me tightening my arm around her waist, has me burying my face in her fire-engine red hair and closing my eyes as I breathe her in. She smells so good, so sweet, so comforting, that I want to stay here—right here—forever.

Except Tansy’s having none of it.

She struggles against my hold a little, twisting and turning until I loosen my grip. Then she rolls over so that we’re face-to-face and she’s looking me in the eye.

“Hey,” she murmurs, her hand coming up to cup my jaw, stroke my face.

I turn my head a little so that her hand is resting against my lips. I close my eyes, press soft, open-mouthed kisses to her palm.

She shivers a little, scoots even closer so that her soft, sweet, fragile body is tight against mine. Nothing has ever felt better and there’s a part of me that wants to s

ay to hell with responsibilities and the real world and what’s supposed to happen next and just hold on to Tansy for as long as I can. For as long as she’ll let me.

She’s like quicksilver, this girl. Like water, slipping through my fingertips. Every time I think I’m beginning to figure her out, she changes. New clothes, new hair, new attitude. Except, this time, even with the bright red and blond hair, even with the ripped jeans and flannel shirts, I think I see the real her peeking through the disguise.

I see the bright, inquisitive eyes.

I see the sweet, sweet smile.

And I see the care and concern she doesn’t even try to hide.

I know it’s coming even before she opens her mouth to speak, but still it jars me a little when she says, “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“I don’t—” I break off, not sure what to say here.

Tansy raises her eyebrows at me. “Not that I’m objecting to the very hot sex we just had—please feel free to ravish me at any time—but something’s going on. I can see it here—” She rubs at the corners of my mouth. “And here.” She presses soft kisses to the spot between my brows.

“And I can feel it here.” Her hands move to my shoulders and she starts massaging me, her fingers digging deep into the tense muscles of my neck and shoulders.

It feels good. So good that I can barely breathe with it.

“Come on,” she urges. “Roll over.”

And I do, flopping down on my stomach so that she can scramble over me. She straddles my hips, her knees on either side of my ass as she tries to massage the stress away.

She starts at the small of my back, works her way up my spine, inch by very slow, very thorough inch.

It feels good. So good. The massage and the way her hands are on my back. Soft, fluttering, sexy. So sexy. Even though I’ve just had her, even though I’ve just come twice in the space of an hour, I feel my cock start to get hard again. What is it with this girl? She’s like fucking magic, has my body and my brain and my heart acting all kinds of crazy when she’s around.

I take the torture of her hands on me as long as I can, then I roll over, putting my hands on her hips so that I don’t jostle her too much. She’s a little clumsy, my girl, and the last thing I want is for her to fall.

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