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“It’s fine, Celia,” he said, relieved when she looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I probably made things worse by hitting him.” His lips twisted into a half smile. “I guess that wasn’t very monk-like of me, was it?”
She didn’t smile back. “The first aid kit.”
He nodded toward the cabinet.
“Go sit on the couch,” she told him, turning to find it.
Trenton wanted to protest again, but there was something off about her. Of course there was, he told himself, doing as she asked. Someone she’d had a relationship with had used her as a verbal punching bag.
He wanted to hit the man again.
Celia kneeled in front of him, taking out a sanitation wipe to dab at his knuckles. His hand felt so big in hers, and a tingle ran through his stomach at how delicate and feminine hers looked.
“Does it sting?” she asked.
“Not too bad.” He watched her work, the tingle moving up his spine. “I think the blood is actually his.”
“You reminded me of Malcolm,” she said, pausing as her eyes went distant. “He used to always get into fights back when I first moved in.”
For some reason, the idea irritated Trenton. “He’ll never let me hear the end of it when he finds out. Though I deserve to be called a hypocrite. I’ve always told him violence isn’t the answer.”
“It’s not.” Celia pressed a bandage to his knuckles, then released his hand. She sat there limply, as if her strings had been cut, and a helplessness filled Trenton.
“It’s okay to not be okay,” he told her. “You don’t have to pretend with me. Someone you used to care about was a jerk to you.”
Celia shrugged. “He wasn’t wrong.”
Heat moved through him and he reached out, his fingers tilting her chin up until their eyes met. “What in the world are you defending him for? No man has a right to talk to a woman that way.”
“I’m not.” She bit her lip. “Not really. But what he said…”
Trenton’s fingers traced over her chin and up to cup her cheek. “What part of what he said made you look like this?”
“It was that word. I mean, I’ve always—” She broke off, and his hand fell away as she shook her head. “No, I don’t want to say it.”
He wanted to reach out again, but put his hands on his knees instead. “It might help. I promise you’re safe with me. You can tell me anything.”
Those dark eyes of hers captured him, their damp depths sucking him in. “It’s…” She glanced down, and it was as if a calm settled over her. “I’ve always been terrible at sex,” she mumbled.
“What?” Trenton’s hands clenched on his knees as her words shot through him.
Celia shrugged. “Daniel was right. I’m a terrible lay.” The way she said it was so accepting. “I’ve never gotten the whole sex thing right. My mind can’t seem to get out of the way, and it’s not like my body inspires the guys that much.” Her hands moved up and down her torso.
Trenton’s eyes followed the movement. Her breasts were high and tight, and no, not large, but delicate like she was. The tingle from before settled into his scalp, and his mouth ran dry as his eyes slid to the jeans-covered hips he’d admired before.
“It’s fine,” she lied, staring at her lap. “I’m just not the sexy type. Guys don’t want me that way.”
Trenton reached down, sliding his hands under her elbows and lifting her toward him. Her head tilted up, making their lips connect more easily. Those large, dark eyes flew wide, staring into his as he softened the kiss, moving his lips over hers to entice instead of take.
He pulled back a little, trying to judge how she felt.
“Why did you do that?” The breathiness of her voice slipped into him like heat.
“Because I want you,” Trenton admitted to both of them. Then he closed the distance and took her lips again.
Chapter 19
Celia’seyesslidshutas she returned Trenton’s kiss. His lips were exactly how she would have pictured them—if she had let her mind think about him that way. Firm, but somehow coaxing. His arms slid around her, pulling her against his body. Her mouth parted as she relaxed against him, and his tongue joined with hers.
