Chapter Nineteen
His mouth closed over hers as though he’d been surviving in a desert with no water, and she’d become his oasis.
Aslen had always imagined what it would be like to kiss her childhood friend, but this…
feast. An all-consuming sense of rightness with the only man she’d ever wanted.
Her fingers ached from the tight hold she had on his T-shirt, and she forced her hands to release.
To press against his chest where she could feel the rapid pace of his pulse.
Equally out of control as hers. A heat that had nothing to do with the summer temperatures outside exploded in her low belly and spread outward.
Yes. This. This was all she’d ever wanted, what she’d fantasized about so many times between them. His fingers pressed around her spine as though she was something precious he was afraid of letting slip free.
She’d never allowed herself to touch him like this, to hope, and now that she had it, Aslen never wanted to give it up.
Every swipe of his tongue against hers, every hint of mint gum, every pound of her pulse—it all intensified to the point she felt surrounded by him.
Protected. Electrical jolts sizzled along her nerve endings that pulsed through every muscle in her body.
She’d never had an awareness like this. Of him, of her body.
An ache stretched deep in her core, to the point she might explode if he didn’t do something—anything—to relieve the building pressure.
But Murray only kept his hands still as he tasted her.
She wanted this. Him. All of him. She’d survived fires and drowning, leaving her raw and a little desperate to feel something more than fear, and he was here in her house.
Standing guard against the next threat, touching her, holding her.
He always had been, whether she appreciated the effort or not.
Always sacrificing himself to protect her, even from himself, she knew, but she didn’t need his protection anymore.
And she didn’t need him holding himself back.
Being in his arms, his skin touching hers, she felt like she’d come home for the first time since her parents had died.
Was it possible to see stars from a kiss alone?
The thin fabric of the scrubs she’d been offered at the hospital failed to suppress the heat coming off his body and soaking into her skin.
He was light and strength and her constant shadow in the best way, and Aslen would kill to keep this feeling as long as possible.
In his grasp, under his kiss, she felt small and feminine when she’d never really been given the chance as a survivor.
A fighter. But he made her feel beautiful. Wanted.
“More.” Spreading her hand over his heart, she reached for the hem of his shirt and moved to drag it up over his head. To have him relieve the ache she’d never be able to ease herself. Him. She needed him. “Please. More.”
Except Murray slammed his hand over hers. “Stop.”
One word. That was all it took to break the spell. Her hand shook as she released her hold. “What?”
She was nothing to all that considerable strength moving her off his lap and onto the couch opposite him.
“We’re not doing this, Aslen.” The muscles along his neck and shoulders strained with some internal battle she couldn’t see. Scrubbing a hand down his face, Murray shoved himself to stand, unable to hide the desire he’d felt for her during the past few minutes. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
No. Her stomach knotted. No. She wanted to keep that feeling, wanted to keep him, but it was all slipping through her fingers.
Too fast. She couldn’t stop the burn of tears as he added as much distance between them as her too-small house allowed.
Knowing the only reason he didn’t walk right out the front door was because of his promise not to leave her alone tonight.
“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide my mental state? ”
“You’ve been through a lot this week. You don’t know what you want.
” Murray wouldn’t look at her, as though just a glimpse might remind him of the line they’d crossed.
“You should go to bed. Get some rest. We can come up with a plan to have you back on the investigation after you’ve gotten some sleep and cleared your head. ”
It was getting harder to breathe. Harder to think.
She swiped her damp palms along the tops of her thighs.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She’d finally gotten what she’d wanted after all these years, and now he was just going to rip it away?
No. He’d kissed her back. He’d wanted her as much as she’d wanted him.
She’d felt it, and damn him for trying to convince her otherwise.
She couldn’t let herself throw up. She had to live through this moment, remind herself of all the times he’d used his power over her, made decisions for her so his rejection didn’t hurt so bad.
Whether they’d been in her best interest or not.
Coming to Zion was meant to test his feelings for her, and he’d given her his answer then.
Why hadn’t she taken it seriously? How could she let herself get this far down the road with blinders? “My head is clear.”
Maybe for the first time in years.
Murray’s mouth pressed into an unforgiving line, and she couldn’t help but hold her breath for the next words out of his mouth as dread crawled up her spine. “I don’t want this. Not with you.”
The words slammed into her like a cannonball to the chest, would’ve rocked her off balance if she hadn’t already been sitting.
He waited, as if expecting her to answer, but there was nothing Aslen could say.
Of course, she was the last person he would want any romantic entanglement with, but that didn’t change how she felt.
How far she’d fallen for him over and over.
Every time he went out of his way to check in to make sure she’d done her homework in high school.
Every time he brought her food when she got sick in college and after she’d graduated.
When he’d shown up the night a date had ghosted her with chocolate, flowers and a movie.
Even the Diet Coke he’d brought to the hospital.
He knew her better than anyone else—anyone she’d let close—and she loved him.
More than anyone else. Why couldn’t he see it?
Or maybe he did. Maybe the distance he’d been trying to add between them these past few years had been a clue to his true feelings.
Maybe the women he’d dated and the rangers he’d never bothered to hide and taken back to his house were meant to be a point.
For her. So she would realize that there wasn’t ever going to be anything between them.
That she wasn’t ever going to be more than the obligation he’d taken on in a brash decision as a teen.
The blood drained from her face, and too soon, that dread turned into something far more acidic and hopeless.
In an instant, she was right back at the bottom of that reservoir.
Drowning. Unable to set herself free. Lungs screaming for air.
Her heart splintered right there in her chest, ready to shut down altogether, and it just felt wrong.
So wrong compared to that kiss, but the stupid thing kept thudding in her chest. As if her world wasn’t crashing down around her.
Aslen had always known him to be loyal, committed to those he cared about, but what if those characteristics were keeping him tied to her when all he wanted was his own sense of freedom?
What if his promise was actually doing more harm than the good he’d intended?
Her throat ached all over again, like she’d swallowed a gallon of salt water. “Is it the scars?”
He looked at her then. His expression more closed off than he’d ever shown her. Not a hint of the man who’d stood by her side and even ahead of her to take the brunt of what life had to throw her way. This man? She didn’t know this man. “Go to bed, Aslen.”
Not an answer. Most likely to save her from the truth, and she was never more aware of the differences between them as she was right then.
That he would always see her as someone needing to be saved.
That she wasn’t strong enough or capable enough to take care of herself in his eyes.
“You really are a bastard, you know that?”
Her legs moved without conscious decision.
Every cell in her body screamed for her to run the short distance between the living room and her bedroom, to lock the door and never resurface, but she had a job.
She had a life. Friends. Responsibilities.
Things that didn’t rely on the brooding a-hole standing in her front room.
The tightness in her chest didn’t release as she closed her bedroom door behind her.
It didn’t lighten as she changed into her favorite pair of pajamas or got ready for bed, and it only seemed to get stronger as she slipped into bed.
Minutes—hours, she wasn’t sure—stretched as she stared up at the ceiling.
Movement registered from the other side of that thin piece of wood between her and the man in the living room.
Whether he intended to sleep on her uncomfortable couch or stand vigilant all night, she didn’t care.
She didn’t care. At last, that was what she kept telling herself.
Had he even slept since pulling her from that reservoir?
Had he eaten? Nope. She wasn’t going there.
She wasn’t going to give him an ounce of consideration after he’d brought her body to arousing heights she’d never known with another man in no time flat then ripped her heart straight from her chest and stomped it into nothing.
But that ache wouldn’t go away. Aslen turned onto her side, forced her eyes closed.
She could still taste him. Feel his hands pressed into her back.
Remember the rhythm of his pulse and the way he’d claimed her mouth as though he’d been conquering a nation.
She flipped on to her other side. Restless and more than ready for another round of arguing to distract her from this need she couldn’t relieve.
A knock sounded at the door. So light, she wasn’t sure she’d heard it until he spoke. “Aslen.”
“Go away.” Her sheets were too hot. Then too cold.
Then came the memories that had given her a reprieve as Murray had plundered her mouth and soul.
Of her abductor. Of the fire closing in on Murray and the resignation in his expression through the flames.
Of the pressure in her chest when she couldn’t get enough air.
Seconds turned into a full minute. Was he still out there?
Aslen threw off the covers and bounded for the door, not bothering with the robe at the end of her bed. She nearly ripped the door off its hinges, her blood boiling in her veins, coming face-to-face with her childhood protector. Well, face-to-chest. He was so much bigger than her. “What?”
He stared down at her, every emotion he’d tried to hide behind that defensive wall on display, and her heart almost stopped.
She didn’t know what had changed. Didn’t know how long it would last, but he’d given her this: a raw look at his fears, the pressures he faced and the desperation to keep her as much as she wanted to keep him.
She would have to be out of her mind to forgive him, but Aslen found herself extending her hand in offering. “Come on.”
He intertwined his fingers with hers.
And she pulled him over the threshold.