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"Then kiss me like you mean it," I begged.
"Devil, strike me down," he whispered so low that I almost missed it.
His lips stroked mine with despair, but his tongue didn't penetrate. He breathed against me, and I begged for any ounce of proof that he still loved me.
Kova tugged my top lip between his as he wrapped his arm around the small of my back. He pulled me flush against him and held on to me with his warm body. I wanted so badly to take the lead, but I needed some sort of signal from him that we were okay so I could put those thoughts to rest. I needed to see if what I was fearing was all in my head, or if my worst nightmares were true, and I was losing him."
He proved me wrong.
Kova's tongue licked past the seam of my lips with a sigh. He leaned into me and let go of whatever he was holding on to, kissing me like he meant it. His tongue fondled mine, his teeth were sharp nibbles on my lips. He made sure his mouth consumed every breath of air I had. He took and took and took, and I loved that he did because I loved his fiery passion and the way it made me tingle everywhere. His shaking hands gripped every inch of skin he could touch, his nails dug into my skin as he lost himself in us.
This was my Kova. The Kova my heart beat fiercely for.
His hands slid down to the back of my thighs. Kova lifted me up and pressed my back to the door. I melted against his strong chest, loving how he held me in his arms. Sex with Kova was electrifying, but kissing Kova was something entirely different that I wasn't sure how to put into words. A kiss was more intimate. A kiss was unspoken words tangled with raw feeling. It brought you closer to someone. It was how I learned to understand Kova.
We needed this moment to know that we still had each other to get through this.
My legs wrapped around his waist as he deepened the kiss and made love to me this way, telling me he was still there when I thought for a moment he wasn't.
"I missed you so much," I said in between kisses.
His hand came up to press against my throat. I swallowed, remembering how much he liked that. Vibrant green eyes stared back at me before roaming over every inch of my face. His jet-black lashes lowered, his thumb smoothed over my neck and jaw, then to my lips, like he was finger painting them. His tongue dragged over his bottom lip as he leaned in to steal another kiss from me.
"Not more than I missed you," he said.
"I thought you might hate me for what happened."
His eyes snapped to mine, his brows angled toward each other. "Impossible."
"Where's your wedding ring?"
His callused thumb was still on my throat like he wanted to feel me talk. "I do not know." When I didn't say anything, he said, "I threw it out the window while I was driving." His voice was low, guttural when he spoke. "It is of no value to me and a reminder of the mistake I made."
"Oh." I wasn't expecting that.
"I know you have your appointment and a few things to wrap up here, but I need to hold you for just a moment longer." He paused and carried us to his desk where he sat on top of it with me wrapped around him. "We have to talk."
Dread coiled inside of me.
Four words, that when put together, could quintessentially make or break a relationship. I tried not to think the worst like I had earlier, and hoped for the best.
My head fell forward and rested on the honey curve of his neck.
"When we arrive in Texas tomorrow, there will be a full health scan by the Olympic coaches and the governing bodies. They look for all unauthorized medication that enhances performance." He tightened his arms. "I know you do not want anyone to know about your health right now, but they will discover the medications in your blood. They are going to question you."
I stared at his neck, unblinking. "What if they think I'm using steroids or something?"
"They will not. I have already checked all of your medications against the list."
My brows furrowed. Lifting my head, I looked at him. "How? You don't know them."
His fingers twirled a lock of my auburn hair. Tugging on the strand he was looking at, he said, "When I called Frank and spoke to him about the universities, I mentioned this issue as well. He gave me a list and we both agreed that you need a printed copy of your medical records from all doctors. I informed him that the Olympic doctors and media news stations will learn of the kidney disease and lupus. They will no doubt talk about it."
I swallowed hard.
"What do you think the worst is that can happen?" My fingers rubbed over his skin. "I'm nervous now. I didn't even think about them finding out."
One corner of his mouth twitched. "Nothing other than you will most likely have more cameras in your face than other gymnasts, and more questions to answer. Probably more screenings. I do not want you to fear the worst or think that you will be treated any differently when we get to Texas. Believe me, the coaches will not go easy on you and they will not feel bad in the least. They have a one-track mind and all they see is gold. They will demand your blood and sweat. But I want you to be prepared beforehand to talk about it."
