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He groans and pushes in again, one hand going to the back of my head. Fingers tighten in my hair to pull me to his lips. They’re so warm on me, so masculine and yet calm. Rolling kisses. Soft in nature and full of searching desperation. I swallow and let myself respond, tempted and teased into it regardless of trying to avoid it. Desperate. Desperate for more of him. Desperate for more of this as well as what we’ve already been, but I’m not looking at him.
Can’t.
Everything stops suddenly. His body, his hips, the light tension in his hands. He’s just there, buried inside of me and so still I can only hear the light crinkle of sheets under us. His lips are only a breath away from me, and his heartbeat is only inches from mine. I know it is because I can feel it thumping down on mine, twining with it and causing a rhythm. I can’t use that, though. Won’t.
It’s not mine.
“Open your eyes.”
Head shake.
“Hannah. Open them.”
Head shake.
“Let me look at you. I need to see you for this.”
Oh god. Why say that? I scrunch my eyes tighter and feel the tears leak out the side, trickle down my cheek. Kisses flutter over them, annoyingly wonderful kisses that make me think of things that are not ours. “Why not?” he asks.
“Because this won’t be here when I wake up,” mumbles out of me.
Quiet again. Stillness. And then his hand brushes through my hair, tousling it between his fingers softly. “You’re right. I won’t be,” he murmurs.
His hips move again, more tender movement to tempt me into opening my eyes, and then the chain moves and his fingers link into mine. “But I am here now. Be here with me.”
Lips land on mine, soft and passionate. Tempting. Pushing. Making me think and move with them until I slowly lift my legs and they’re gripping around his waist. I can’t stop it anymore. Too many nice words and too many nice feelings.
My eyes flutter open, as he links our other hands and twines the fingers together, and I find his face close to mine and the feel of his breath moving on me.
Too much.
Not enough.
Everything.
He’s here with me, and I’m here with him. Together. Both of us giving into something that is so deeply engrained I don’t know how to fight it any longer.
“No regrets,” murmurs from me.
None, regardless of waking up alone.
Chapter 20
Gray
The driver lifts the bag and takes them over to the cabin crew. I stand firmly and look between the jet and the car, pulled and tugged between the two of them, and then look at my watch for grounding. Eleven am. Morning time.
Time to leave after the night before.
Just without her.
“Sir? We’re ready when you are,” one of the crew says.
I nod at her and walk slowly for the jet, hands in my pockets to stop them from making the mistake of signalling the driver to wait. I left her early before dawn fully broke. No goodbyes. No discussions. I walked away like a coward, choosing that over conversation that would have made me leaving harder than she can possibly imagine.
A long sighs leaves me, as I make my way up the steps and into the cabin. It was too close. Too much. And I am definitely too involved for sensible or prudent thought. Regardless, I have left and broken that bond. Perhaps I shouldn’t have. Perhaps I should have gotten her home, made that last effort and seen her safely back to the world we come from, but I couldn’t. Didn’t want to for fear that leaving her at the other end, having driven her home to the apartment I own, stories beneath me, would have ended up with another bed, or more words, or more lips and tongues.
And she knew anyway. She said the words herself, knew I wouldn’t be there when she woke.
