Page 106 of Resurgent

"Annalise—" he begins to protest, but shuts up immediately when my expression dares him to try arguing, before I walk out to get the med kit.

Coming back into the room a minute later, he's still whispering to himself—now about me or his injury, I'm not sure. Either way, I don't care because he's still sitting in the exact spot I told him to. Maybe he's trainable after all.

"At least I'm not the only one you think of as a dog."

"All men are dogs. Now let me concentrate."

Straddling Hunter's knees to get the right angle, our proximity hits me at the same moment it hits him—his breath catching, just once. Quiet, but unmistakable, as it mirrors my own.

“Hold still, this is going to sting a bit,” I murmur, trying to hide my blush as I try to focus on cleaning his wound.

He doesn’t flinch, not even a twitch, but his eyes follow every movement of my hands.

The first few stitches slide in smoothly. When I finish the fifth, without thinking, I blow gently across the skin to ease the sting before gently kissing his wound the same way Mattey has always kissed mine.

I freeze when I realize what I have just done, but he doesn’t.

Instantly his hand comes up, fingers curling lightly around the back of my neck, and drawing me forward until we’re just an inch away from kissing. Only then does he pause.

It’s a question, a choice. An acknowledgment that I still have the power in this situation.

I close the gap before I can think better of it.

The kiss starts slow, testing, but it shifts quickly—heat sparking, deepening—his hand sliding to the side of my jaw, the pressure of his hold steady and certain.

His mouth is still warm on mine when a memory slams into me—the one that stopped this whole mess from happening months ago.

“Oh gods,” I blurt, my hands shooting up to cover my face. “I just kissed you. The picture—I’m a terrible person. I shouldn’t—this was—Hunter, I shouldn’t even be staying here anymore!”

Korr blinks, confused. “What? Why not? Which picture?”

“The one in your office,” I say, gesturing vaguely toward the front of the house like that helps. “That day in your office, I saw the photo of you with your gorgeous girlfriend wrapped around you!"

I start to pull away, but he’s still holding me.

Realization dawns on his face. And then—is that fucking amusement?

“You mean the one by the window?” he asks.

“Yes, Hunter! The only photo with a gorgeous woman in it…perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect—everything.”

“Seiri—”

“Of course, she has a beautiful name too! I’m the worst person ever—"

“No. Annalise. Stop.” He snorts. Actually fucking snorts. “That’s Rory…my baby sister...And I’m not sure if she’s going to be more excited that you think she’s so gorgeous or disgusted that you thought we were dating, but she was wrapped around me like a koala because I'd just gotten home from an eight-month deployment.”

“Oh.” My mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. “Well. Uhm. That’s…important information.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across my cheek, leaning in until our noses nearly touch. “Are you ready for another piece of important information?”

“No? Not really," I admit sheepishly.

His laugh is soft, and just that change of disposition has me on edge for what he'll say next.

“Well, too bad, because I'm going to tell you anyway…

"You are the only woman I've thought of since you walked into the arena." Gently, his hands slide to my ribs, rubbing soft, slow circles against my oversized shirt. "I can't take my eyes off you laughing with your friends in class, or keep from being enthralled by the beautiful look on your face every time you push yourself on the obstacle course and beat your own record."