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I want to touch her back so badly, make sure she’s okay, but I’m still bent over, trying to breathe through the pain of my ribs and back.
I want her to keep touching me, that cool glide of her palm and fingertips on my heated skin. Her scent, like flowers and sunlight. The tickle of her hair as it swings forward to brush my cheek.
I want to stay here, locked in this moment, forever. It’s the best, the gentlest I can remember having in years.
And it’s about to break me to pieces.
Chapter Eleven
Luna
Life has a strange sense of humor, sending Ross to save my ass yet again, just when I’d decided to keep as far away from him as humanly possible, when I just told him to stay away from me. I decided to keep a clear mind, not to let him affect me in any way.
But how can I, when he waded into the fray without hesitation to make sure I was okay, when he berated the other guys for calling me names? He’s my prince in dusty armor, whether I like it or not.
And he’s hurt because of me, and I can’t leave him here, because... because I just can’t. I’m not that person. I’m grateful for his intervention, even if I’m starting to think Edward and his coward friends are using me to get to Ross.
Why that would be, though... no idea. It makes no sense. It’s not like Ross ever cared about what happened to me.
Until now, that is. This is the second time he comes to my rescue, and I wish someone could explain to me what’s going on here.
I could ask Ross, of course. But I’m scared of his answers.
“Are you okay?” I ask instead.
“I told you not to expect me to protect you. Didn’t you hear me?”
See? “Ross...”
“If you wanted to see me, you only had to say so. No need for games.”
The unreality of today increases. “Let me get this straight. You think I let them jump me on purpose just to have you come over?”
He finally looks up from under pale lashes, eyes wicked, his bloodied mouth tilting into a crooked smirk. “Didn’t you?”
“You’re an ass,” I mutter, somehow amused through my anger. “I was going to thank you for helping me, but now, well, I don’t know.”
“I only take thanks in kind, anyway,” he says and wipes again at his mouth. His eyes dip to my lips. “That’s my rule.”
“Rule, what rule? What do you mean?”
“A kiss,” he says, and there’s a buzzing in my ears.
A kiss? No frigging way. No way, I’m not getting any closer to him, but my mind, my body are betraying me, acutely aware of his good looks, his sexy scruff, his powerful build. My heart’s still pounding with adrenaline, with fear, with gratitude, and his spicy male scent wraps around me like a curtain, cutting off the world—and rational thought.
Somehow my hand drops to his shoulder, feeling the powerful muscles shift underneath my palm, and he lifts both hands to cup my face, and he’s leaning in, gaze still locked on my mouth, eyes gone dark like the night.
This boy, who’s haunted my dreams in all the bad and good ways, the boy I’d dreamed about kissing for so long, until he broke my heart to pieces and sent me running... he tastes sweet, of blood and man, a little bitter, a little salty, but sweet above all.
Blood, I think, as if in a dream still. He’s bleeding, and I’m tasting his pain, and it’s rusty-sweet.
When his tongue touches mine, I think I’ll lose my mind from needing him. The feel of his big, rough hands on my cheeks, his soft moan as he deepens the kiss, the sudden bruising force as he devours my mouth, eating at me like he’s hungry.
For me.
It’s taking my breath away, while setting my body on fire. My hand slips from his shoulder to the back of his neck, anchoring me, the other finding its way to his thick, silky hair, my fingers burrowing in the tangled mess. Lightning sparks of pleasure race down my back, pressure mounting between my legs, starting a second heartbeat inside me.
I want him. I want him over me, inside me, I want him everywhere, and is it that bad? Just lust, Dena said, just a one-night stand. Why not? Why not find a quiet place and let him do to me all the things I fantasized? Let him be my real first lover, get that itch out of my skin, my bones.
