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It was just cuddling on a hammock. It wasn’t any worse than falling asleep beside her every night.
I lay down and she curled into my side. I wound an arm around her, my hand resting on her hip, fingers just barely slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was so smooth beneath my touch. So soft and addictive.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about me.”
She frowned. “Do I want to know what you were talking to my cousins about?”
“Probably not.”
Her frown deepened. “Wrong answer.”
I chuckled and turned my head to press a kiss to her forehead. She was perfect—beautiful, with a sharp mind and a pure heart. “You don’t need to protect me from your family. And don’t you dare feel guilty that you have a family who loves you and wants the best for you.”
She sighed and snuggled in closer, her vanilla scent invading my brain and making it hard to think.
“Thank you for coming with me today,” she whispered.
My arms tightened around her, but I didn’t respond. I didn’t trust what would come out of my mouth if I spoke.
Twenty
Sierra
The weekssince Dantalion’s visit had been frustrating. He’d sent demons after me, pretty much every couple of days starting soon after the day Nate came with me to my mother’s house, but they were always low-ranking ones that were more of an annoyance than an actual threat. He was toying with us, sending grunts but keeping us in the dark as to what his real plans were. And we were sure he had a plan. He wasn’t the type to forgive, and between Nate and me, we’d killed two of his sons.
I was torn between wanting to end this so I could stop living in fear and not wanting anything to change. Solving the Dantalion problem would be the end of my needing a guardian angel. Nate hadn’t said for sure what would happen if the threat to my life was ended, but I didn’t think he’d get to stick around. I was a job he hadn’t chosen, and therefore I could only assume he wouldn’t get to choose when that job ended.
It didn’t exactly inspire me to try hard when I brainstormed plans with Nate and Kylie. I’m not sure any of our hearts were really in it.
I glanced down from my e-reader to where Nate was sleeping with his head in my lap. We were lying on top of my bed, hiding from the sound of the TV Kylie was watching in the living room.
I stroked a hand through Nate’s hair. I had a weird fascination with his hair. It was so soft, and whenever his head got anywhere near my hand, I had an irresistible urge to touch it. Who was I kidding? I had the same need to touch the rest of him too.
It had been nearly four weeks since the first, and only, time we’d done anything more sexual than kiss. Since then it had kind of felt like we were a couple. We went everywhere together, we trained, he’d met my family and visited Dad’s headstone with me at the cemetery where we first met. But he still wouldn’t let me touch him the way he’d touched me. And I still wasn’t sure why or what it meant for us. Was there even anus?
“What are you thinking about?” Nate asked, blinking up at me.
I chewed on my lower lip while I debated what to say to him. “Nothing.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”
My throat felt tight all of a sudden. I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to have this conversation. I was afraid of how it was going to end. And once we started, I wouldn’t be able to take it back.
“Sierra.” His voice softened, turning gentle.
I hated it. He didn’t used to be gentle. From the moment we met, he was brutally honest. He was real and didn’t try to spare my feelings.
He sat up in a single fluid motion, not even using his arms for balance. His eyes bored into mine, waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” I whispered, staring at the comforter of my bed, avoiding his gaze.
“Keep doingwhatexactly?”
“This.” I waved a hand back and forth in the space between us. “It’s confusing and I keep getting hurt. You act like you want me, and then you won’t let me touch you. Sometimes you make me feel so safe and secure, and other times I feel like I don’t matter at all.”
He reached out and cupped my cheeks between his palms. “Listen to me,” he growled. “Don’t you dare think that I don’t want you. Most of the time it takes everything in me not to rip every bit of clothing from your body and bury myself so deep inside you that you won’t be able to walk for a week.”
