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His gut twisted—violently—nearly cutting off his air.
This is what had been consuming her mind? That she was worthless?
She was wrong—so very wrong. And he couldn’t bear to see her without hope. To witness the absence of all light within her—as though her very force of life had been snuffed out. He would do anything—inflict as much pain as possible on everything around them—until it lit back within her.
He wanted her pain gone and then never wanted to see it on her face again. Yes, she was naïve. Yes, she wanted to see good, the possibilities and wonder in everything. But he couldn’t stand to see her spirit jaded like this.
He’d assumed that her family would be the worst of the worst, and he’d been right. But she’d needed to see them for who they were with her own eyes. That didn’t mean he’d wanted her to lose who she was in the process. Who she had always been.
The only reason they’d stayed alive that year on their own when they were nine was because of her hope, her insistence that the next day would be better. The days never got better, but she never lost that optimism. Never. No matter how bad those days were—no matter how hungry, how hurt or scared—every night before she would close her eyes, her head resting on his upper arm, she would declare the next day would be better.
This current state she was in—he wasn’t about to accept it. She was better than this and he needed to remind her of that fact.
Strider set his fork down on his plate and stood up, moving around the table to her. He dropped down, resting on his heels, his look almost at eye level with her.
“You do matter, Pen.” His right hand slipped along the line of her jaw, the tips of his fingers sliding into her hair as his gaze pinned her. “You matter to me. You mattered to my mother, my father. You aren’t worthless and you never have been.”
Her stare stayed on him, her green eyes refusing to acknowledge what he said.
His left hand lifted and he captured her face, his voice going hard. “You do matter. You matter more than I could have ever guessed or wanted you to. You matter.”
Her body twitched, a full spasm echoing through her bones, and her eyes widened. Ever so slowly, her right hand lifted, her fore and middle fingertips going to his lips, her pinky caressing the side of his cheek.
Hell, but she had the touch of an angel.
“Don’t tell me things that aren’t true, Strider. It doesn’t become you.”
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t believe, Pen. I know my own damn mind.”
The smallest smile came to her face as her fingers fell from his lips. “I do not think my heart can take losing you again.”
He lifted himself off his heels and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry on that.”
The words came so easily—just like when they were children.Don’t worry.Even when he knew full well she should.
But she didn’t press it. Press him.
Good thing, for he was the one worried.
He couldn’t protect her when they were young, and every time he looked at her now, all he saw was his failure. Yet he couldn’t look away from her.
Stuck, staring at her, needing to save her from this river of pain she was drowning in, but not knowing what to do, how to swim out and save her.
For three full breaths he tried to force himself to stand and move away from her, but then she did the unthinkable.
She leaned forward, her fingers sliding along the side of his face, and she set her mouth on his.
A kiss, sad and forlorn, and all he wanted to do was to flip it. Flip it into something good and beautiful and wondrous for her. Flip it from the misery that had prompted it.
His right hand dove deep into the back of her head and pins fell from her chignon, locks of her hair escaping wild under his fingers. He pulled her head tighter to his and parted his lips, hungry for her, taking control of the kiss. Demanding action from her. Demanding her body awaken to his touch.
It only took seconds before her tongue touched his and her hands wrapped around his neck. She wasn’t ready to let him go, her nails digging into his skin.
Their tongues warred and a soft mewl—carnal—echoed into his mouth.
At the sound, his damn cock sprang to attention, already throbbing at the memory of her lips wrapped around it.
Dammit. He only meant to flip the kiss. Kiss her and then excuse himself.
