Chapter 31 #3
“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” I said, licking over his mouth to try to smooth the pain.
Ford’s hand came down on my ass in a light slap. “No apologies. That was fucking hot.”
I was really going to have to find a way to deal with these new compliments from him. As silly as it sounded, beautiful and pretty had always seemed like facts when they were directed at me, so much so Ford had even said them a few times himself—even before.
It was the words of desire that made my stomach flip, knowing that I was affecting him deeper than some dispassionate observation.
A few days prior, when he had me pressed to the wall of our shower, he’d whispered the word sexy in my ear and I’d come on the spot.
I had a rather similar reaction now, trying with all my might to push him down to the floor so I could properly maul him.
Ford just laughed, rising to stand with me in his arms in a physical feat I was too addled to really comprehend, and walked us to the bed in the back of the cabin.
Somewhere along the way, he seemed to remember that I was shirtless, and his movements finally started to match mine in desperate pawing.
We only paused to engage in a minor battle of wills over the order that clothes should be coming off—which was really my fault because I’d gotten a little distracted in the middle.
Eventually, Ford’s hips settled flush against mine and his formerly eloquent protests regarding my health and well-being devolved into pretty love words that made me burn hot.
By the time he finally slid inside me, I was already a pile of mush in his willing hands, tipping over the edge again with little more than a single push of his hips.
In reality, it was all over rather quickly, all of our movements quick and frantic. It felt like an eternity, lost in the steadying embrace of his eyes, in his hold.
By the time we both caught our breaths, Ford had moved us on our sides, one of his hands at my throat, stroking softly over the skin there.
“I don’t care, you know,” he said after a while. “I know I was a little freaked out at first, but it was just because, well, shit, I was fucking freaked out. All I could see was the blood pouring down your neck. I don’t care about the scar.”
I smiled, a little loopy. “I know.” My hand came up to his face, stroking over the very top of his scar on his forehead. “I know.”
I was thankful for how much I loved him, not for the first time. What was new was the trust that he loved me the same way. The freedom that made me feel.
Tucking my hands into my chest, I burrowed my head into Ford’s neck, feeling his laugh against the top of my head. “Don’t let anyone bother us for at least a day. Maybe a week.”
“Of course not,” he said immediately, either managing to understand my muffled words or just automatically conceding to whatever I wanted. Right now, I was fine with either option.
Ford let me rest there for long, sleepy moments, rubbing his hand over my back in easy passes. Eventually, as the sun started to dip down behind the mountains and dusk fell, he slowly roused me from my haze.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, nudging me softly with his knee. “You’re gonna take a bath.”
“No, you’re gonna take a bath.” A deeply childish retort, but I was really very comfortable and getting up seemed like it might be physically painful.
“Well, I was hoping I might squeeze in there with you, yes.”
Oh. Well, that seemed nice. I started moving almost immediately, earning a belly deep chuckle from Ford that I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard before. In any event, I would make sure I’d hear it again.
A short while later, leaning against Ford’s chest with slack limbs and warm muscles, my mind started to work again.
“I’m scared,” I admitted, barely a second after the thought crossed my mind.
“I am too.” The words were spoken against my temple.
“I just,” I paused, suddenly feeling a little short of breath. “I just really thought we were close.”
It was the hope that killed you, always.
As if Ford could read my mind, he said, “Don’t get mad at your hope. It will keep you going. Even if I’m scared, I try to remind myself that I’m doing this for the chance Annie and Adam might be able to live through peace. That you might, after this is all over.”
I turned in towards Ford, hooking my face into his neck. “I really wish you would stop making me cry. I’m going to be so dehydrated.”
Ford did nothing but laugh, a low chuckle that I felt more than heard. “We’ll get through this. If Elijah was acting alone, we have a better shot. If he wasn’t, at least we know of a real advantage over Muli.”
I hummed in agreement. We would regroup and make a plan, as we’d done fifteen times over. I really hoped that plan didn’t involve upping the draft and pouring even more Matches into Muli, but I couldn’t dwell on that right now.
It was a conscious effort to keep my thoughts centered, not letting them run and spiral into the darkest futures and distant realities. If I wanted to have a fighting chance at surviving those realities, I needed to rest while I could. Focus on what I had.
You have Ford, the Bond said. I believed it.