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He slipped his hand between her legs and found her ready. She gasped as he touched her, her eyes fluttering shut and her mouth hanging open. Touching her was as much to give him time to calm down as it was to wrench some of his power back. To put them on even footing.
Because they weren’t playing for keeps. Not now, not ever.
“More,” she gasped as he teased her. “Please, Keaton. I want you inside me.”
The thought of burying himself inside her was like a lit match to a bonfire. It was so wrong and so right. So perfectly right.
“I, uh...” He shook his head. “Did you bring any more condoms?”
They both knew he didn’t have any.
“I’m safe.” That’s when her mask slipped and he caught a rare glimpse of her vulnerability. No hard outer shell, no piercing glare. Just August. “I got tested before I signed up with the matchmaking agency.”
Oh yeah...that.
He didn’t want to feel jealous thinking about her preparing to sleep with some random “match approved” guy. But fucking hell it made him want to snap something with his bare hands.
“I’m still on the pill, too.” She looked like she wanted to explain more, but instead she bit down on her lip as if trying to trap the words inside.
But these things were important.
“I’m safe, too...which I’m sure you would have guessed.” It was hard to catch anything when you didn’t have sex.
August cupped his face with both hands and, for a brief moment, it felt like she could see into his soul—all the charred and blackened parts of him, the emotional wasteland he kept under lock and key. It was too much. A rejection bubbled up the back of his throat, but before he could say anything at all, she brushed her lips across his. So gentle, like a reassurance she wasn’t going to break him. She wasn’t going to hurt him.
“I know it’s a big deal, Keaton,” she said softly. “I’m honored that you trust me.”
He wanted to scream, to shake off her tenderness because it felt like it could physically burn him. He didn’t want to trust her. Or for her to feel honored.
And yet...
God, how he’d missed those things. The real connection. Having someone care for him. Having someone look at him and see past all the smoke and mirrors.
He pushed forward, yanking one of her thighs over his hip and dragging the head of his erection through her sex until he found the right spot. When he slid inside her, the tight heat made his head swim. It felt like coming home. Like letting out a breath he’d been holding for a decade.
“Yes...” Her breath was hot on his ear.
He brought his hand to her ass, digging his fingers into her smooth, firm flesh, and drove up into her, primal need fueling him. Warm water sprayed against them and the tile was mercifully cool against his palm. He thrust into her, lazy and slow at first, enjoying the sound of her gasps in his ear and the feel of them skin to skin. Everywhere.
He never wanted this moment to finish. He never wanted to leave the steamy bubble of perfection.
His mouth covered hers, his tongue driving between her lips, and she met his intensity with ease. Her hands grabbed at him, nails lightly scratching his skin and her teeth nipping at his lower lip. Her face was wet from the spray of the shower, the water droplets sliding along her cheeks and catching on her lips.
“I’m there,” she mewled into his neck as the first wave of her orgasm hit hard, making her arms tighten around him like a vise. She buried her face against his chest and he held her to make sure she stayed upright. “I’ve never stopped wanting you.”
Rushing water and the smack of skin on skin drowned out his response. But the words echoed in his head.
I’ve never stopped wanting you, either.
August’s body was heaven in his arms, the way she opened herself up to him like a balm to his weather-beaten soul. With one last thrust, he seated himself deep inside her and came hard, cradling her head with his hands and pressing their foreheads together.
19
After their shower, Keaton and August went to the hall to grab dinner. Neither one of them mentioned changing rooms again, and for some reason it hung over August’s head. It was almost like an invisible line that they were walking up to but refusing to cross. Or maybe it felt more like limbo.
Wasn’t that their relationship in a nutshell? It felt like they’d had a lifetime of sniffing out each other’s boundaries but always failing to take the next step.
As they walked back to the cabin after a simple but yummy camp-style meal, it had grown dark. Stars were strewn across the sky like shards of a broken mirror, glinting and sharp. The air was cool, and goose bumps skittered across her skin and she drew closer to Keaton as they walked.
