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It was a gentle kiss, one not meant to lead to anything, but it went on forever, neither of us seeming to want to break it off, to break the spell we were both trapped inside.
In the end, it was Murphy who pulled back, pressing the side of her face to my cheek.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay?” I asked, needing confirmation.
“Let’s give it a try,” she said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Murphy
It was the scariest decision I’d ever made in my life.
Not the scariest thing. Because I was pretty sure nothing could be as terrifying as being trapped in a trafficker’s basement.
But when it came to looking at a situation from all sides, weighing things out, doing a mental pro and con list, deciding to date Sway was definitely at the top of scariest choices in my life.
Because I knew the potential for pain, the way this man could take me to new heights only to drop me off of them, sending me free falling, then crashing, burning, breaking.
That said, if there was ever a person worthy of taking that chance on, it was probably the one who was just as afraid as you were, as completely and utterly confused by this turn of events as you were.
This wasn’t normal for either of us.
Sway, the playboy. Never met a woman he wanted to spend more than a night with.
And me, so unaccustomed to connection that I was almost sure it wasn’t something that was possible for me.
I guess I’d figured that I’d taken a little too much after my father in that way. Able to feel things, even deeply, but not great with showing it. At least not in a normal way that society deemed acceptable.
I was part of him, of course.
But I was also my own person with my own experiences, with my own fears, and, yes, hopes for my future.
Being at the clubhouse had sort of opened my eyes to things I never would have even given a second thought to before.
Like friendship and found family and love and kids.
I mean, I’d only been around Judge’s and Delaney’s kid once, but it had sparked something in me I had never felt before, a longing I hadn’t been aware of existing.
I hadn’t had a traditional childhood. I never had siblings. And as an adult, I was never around kids. So I guess it was one of those ‘I never knew what I was missing’ sort of situations.
Now that I saw it, though, a part of me wanted it. Or, at least, wanted to start considering it as a possibility.
And because my mind was on those sorts of things, it was impossible not to start picturing Sway as the other part of that DNA that would make up that baby, as the man who would be there to enjoy the smiles and the sleepless nights.
It was dangerous territory, letting myself think that way when things were so new.
At least, though, I knew that he was equally as confused and disoriented by what was going on between us, the sudden and intense feelings, the connection that was hard to deny.
I imagined this whole thing was difficult for us in similar, but very different ways.
Me, the loner, opening up, letting people get close.
Him, the extroverted womanizer, getting serious and monogamous in a very homebody sort of way.
Because we weren’t venturing out much. I mean, we’d gone shopping that first day to get me some clothes and bath stuff. And we walked the dogs into town sometimes. But I had yet to see the diner or the bar or the pool hall. As far as I could tell, Sway hadn’t been out either, spending all his free time walking the dogs when I was busy, or just puttering around the house.
It was better when we finally gave in to our feelings, though.
No more awkwardness or avoiding each other, which was only hurting me more since I did want to be near him.
When I finally made it back to the room that night, though, I felt a crushing sort of disappointment to find him already sprawled out on the couch.
Fighting that, I grabbed some clothes and made my way across the hall to the bathroom.
I’d just gotten my hair wet when the curtain slid to the side, making my heart leap up into my throat for a moment before I registered the image of Sway standing there, stark naked, that playful little smile tugging at his lips.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Might have dozed off waiting for you,” he admitted, climbing in the tub, and sliding the curtain closed.
He reached up to the side, but I didn’t see what he was doing since my gaze was a little preoccupied looking over his body.
The indents of muscle, the ink he had all over him. It was a lot to take in.
But then his hands were on me, and all I could focus on was the need steadily building in my system, the familiar ache as his hands started to drift up my back as he shifted, pinning me to the wall.
