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“I don’t deserve your kindness.”
He held her tighter to him. “Sure you do.”
She huffed, not meeting his eyes.
He put his hand beneath her chin, lifted it. “Look at me.” When she didn’t, he repeated, “Look at me, Brielle.”
She looked up, meeting his gaze and wincing.
“You deserve my kindness because you are the mother of my son, because when I chose to walk away rather than to fight for us, you didn’t make the wrong choice. You gave our son life and you have done an amazing job of raising him by yourself without any help from me when I should have been by your side the whole way.”
“You would have been if I’d told you. I know you would have.”
“But that isn’t how you wanted me, was it, Brielle?”
She shook her head. “No, I wanted...” Her voice trailed off and she averted her gaze.
“You wanted what?” he prompted, tilting her chin, realizing that the distance between their mouths was closing. He could feel her breath teasing his lips, could feel the warmness of her mouth beckoning him.
“You,” she answered simply, closing her eyes and looking as if she was in agony.
Agony that Ross understood. He was feeling pretty agonized himself.
“I wanted you,” she whispered, eyes still shut.
He leaned forward the slightest amount, putting his lips in direct contact with hers, and ended his agony.
Her lips felt amazing against his.
Her eyes shot open, searched his for answers that he doubted she’d find because he didn’t have answers, not to any of the questions shining in her eyes.
All he knew was that he had never stopped wanting this woman. That for five years he’d wanted her but had been too stubborn to admit that he’d needed her all those years before.
He needed her now.
Her mouth remained perfectly still and he couldn’t stand it. He wanted to taste her, to put his tongue into the sweet recesses of her mouth and conquer all.
As if sensing his need, she parted her lips and Ross growled his pleasure.
“You taste so good,” he groaned, supping on her lower lip. “So perfect.”
“Don’t talk,” she ordered low against his mouth. “Please, just don’t say anything. Just...just kiss me.”
Ross might have stopped to analyze her comment had he been thinking straight. But he hadn’t been thinking straight from the moment he’d taken her into his arms.
No, longer than that. He hadn’t been thinking straight for years, since the first time he’d laid eyes on his roommate’s kid sister who had just been finishing nursing school and had literally taken his breath away. What had happened to make him forget that?
To forget how she’d affected him? How he’d instantly known he’d have her? Yet he’d been the one to walk away, and for what?
At the moment nothing seemed as pressing as loving this woman, familiarizing himself again with everything about her.
Her lips. Her mouth. Her face. Her neck.
Oh, her neck. How he’d always loved her neck.
What a sweet arch she had.
When he kissed her collar bone, slid his hands under the borrowed hospital scrub top to push the material out of his way, he groaned. Brielle had more curves and slopes than a geometry textbook.
