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But to be honest, I have no idea what to say.
Instead of speaking I continue to hold my towel, watching him as he lifts his eyes to meet my gaze.
“I’m not leaving here until this is resolved. I’m not leaving here until I know this is okay.”
I believe him.
Twice he’s shown up after I’ve returned fresh from a kill. What happens when he shows up too early? What happens when I have to explain the real reason there’s blood in my hair or on my clothes? What happens when he catches me?
Staring into his eyes, I remember why it’s so hard to walk away. Without the anger I had earlier driving me farther from his arms, I remember what it’s like to feel.
He looks tired, always tired. His tie has been loosened, hanging down below the top two buttons he’s undone. The firm, tan flesh is visible through those undone buttons.
His shirt is untucked, and his jacket is strewn across my bed, developing wrinkles as we speak.
“I mean it, Lana,” he says, drawing my attention back to his face. His blond hair is disheveled, and those firm, full lips are curved down. “I’m not leaving until we’re good, and you’re in my arms, and you let the police go back to protecting you when I’m not here.”
My lips thin as I think over my options. Leaving here without him seems to create a massive hole in my chest. I’ve been avoiding feeling the loss since I left the hospital.
The tears earlier overwhelmed me and caught me off guard. If there hadn’t been someone to take the brunt of my overflowing emotions, I’d be a sobbing mess in Jake’s house right now.
Over this man in my room.
A man who has the power to destroy me.
A man I can’t let go.
“Okay.” My mind is screaming at me how stupid this is, as the solitary word of damnation weakly leaves my mouth. Never has okay held so much power.
“Okay?” he asks, as the tears start to reform on my eyelids.
I nod, not trusting my voice not to crack if I try to say more. I thought I’d rid myself of the emotions earlier, but they’re back with a renewed vigor now.
He springs to his feet, and my breath leaves in a rush as he grabs me at the waist with more speed than I was prepared for. He tugs me to him, pulling me flush against him before lifting me, clinging to me with a possessive, desperate hold.
His lips find mine as I wind my arms around his neck, turning off the part of my mind that is still begging me to see reason.
As my fingers thread through his hair, he drops me to the bed, jarring me as the kissing and touching ends abruptly. I look up, feeling flushed as my towel falls open, and he hungrily rakes his eyes over my body.
A breath hisses out of me when his hands cover my knees and force them apart.
“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” he says on a reverent breath, his eyes trained between my legs as he licks his lips. “I’ve been skipping all the important stuff, giving you the middle instead of the beginning in every way.”
Before I can ask what that means, his head dips, and his blond hair tickles against my legs seconds before his mouth fastens around my clit. My hips buck, but he holds me still, gripping my thighs to hold me in place, and to anchor his face right where he wants it.
He’s sucking and flicking his tongue at the same time, ratcheting up the pleasure with each passing second. It’s almost too intense. It’s almost too much.
I’ve never let anyone touch me this way, and he wouldn’t have had the chance either if he hadn’t caught me off guard.
My fingers grip his hair, possibly tugging too hard, but he merely growls his approval, the vibrations of his voice driving me that much closer to that powerful edge. It feels perfect and incredible and awesome…and all the other damn good words too.
I cry out when something explosive crackles over me, the force of the orgasm taking me by surprise. I’m practically panting when he continues to suck, bite, and lick in perfect unison against the oversensitive flesh.
He finally shows me mercy by letting go, and my whole body shudders as he starts kissing his way up my damp skin, sliding the towel out from under me with a hard tug. He tosses it away as my body turns limp under his lips that are still kissing their way up my body.
“At least you’re good at apologies,” I tell him, albeit I’m still all breathy when the words come out.
A rumble of laughter slips between his lips and plays against my skin that he’s still teasing, now moving between the valley of my breasts on his ascent.
