Chapter 20
He kissed me like he’d been dying and I was the only thing that could save him. It wasn’t like the gentle, soft kisses we’d shared before. This was hard and desperate, like he wanted to devour me. And for the first time in a very long time, maybe the first time ever, I let go.
I kissed him back just as fiercely, gently nipping at his lip and letting his tongue sweep through my mouth.
I wasn’t sure how I’d ended up in his lap, straddling him, but I wasn’t complaining.
His cold hands slid up under my jacket and my shirt until they found my bare skin. I jumped, and he stopped.
“This okay?” he murmured against my lips.
“Yes,” I said. “Your hands are freezing.”
His lips curled against mine. “Sorry.”
“I’ll warm them up for you,” I added, and he pulled back to grin at me, heat sparking in his eyes.
He helped me slide my jacket down my shoulders and then skimmed his hands across my abdomen, warming them against my heated skin. I could feel the calluses on his palms, but his touch was so gentle it made my eyes prickle.
“Tell me to stop at any time,” he said. “If you feel uncomfortable—”
I interrupted him by finally sliding my hands into the soft waves of his hair like I’d wanted, gathering a handful at the back of his head and tugging.
He groaned against my mouth in a way that made heat pool in my stomach.
His hands traveled upward under my shirt, tracing the shape of my body like he wanted to memorize me.
When he palmed my breasts, those calluses scraped against my nipples, and I whimpered.
“Gods, Bones,” he said in a low rasp.
Self-consciousness flashed through me. The Reapers had made plenty of comments about how I lacked curves.
But that unease vanished as his hands roamed the slopes of my breasts.
His lips trailed down my jaw to my neck, and I couldn’t even feel the cold anymore, only him.
He traced the horrible brand on my chest and my body stilled.
“I’m sorry,” I found myself saying faintly. “I know it’s so ugly and—”
He swiftly pulled away to meet my gaze. His eyes looked almost black, and there was no mistaking the desire there.
“Nothin’ about you is ugly.” He pressed his entire palm flat against the brand on my chest. “Not this.” His other hand traveled around to my back, gently running over the thick healing scars and rough flesh that still ached. “Not this. You don’t ever need to apologize for your scars.”
“But—” I tried to protest, feeling shaky.
“These scars are proof you survived,” he interrupted softly. “That you walked through fire, and you came out the other side. You’re a godsdamned warrior, Bones, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
My eyes welled, and he gently pulled me closer again, pressing a kiss to the brand on my chest.
“How are you real?” I whispered, so full of joy and want and sorrow and longing that it hurt.
“I’m real,” he murmured with a soft smile, straightening so he could kiss me again, this time gently. “This is real, darlin’.”
“I don’t know if I believe it.”
He smiled against my lips. “Let me try and prove it to you then.” His hands tunneled into my hair, cupping the back of my head and deepening the kiss.
I melted into him, tilting to give him better access, twining my arms around his neck, pressing our bodies even closer together.
I couldn’t get enough of him, wasn’t sure if I’d ever get enough of him.
I’d never felt this way from a kiss, so out of control and so steady at the same time.
Everything about this felt right, and I realized with sudden clarity that being with Trey would be something new.
I’d never been with someone solely because I wanted to be with them.
There were no desperate plans in my head, no ulterior motives.
It felt like surrendering, but I had no idea surrender could feel so beautiful.
When he pulled back minutes, maybe hours later, a noise of protest escaped my lips. He chuckled.
“Not here,” he murmured. “I want you in a place that’s warm so I can see every beautiful inch of you without worryin’ about you getting frostbite.”
My toes curled inside my boots, and I thought of the trading post we planned to sleep at tomorrow night. The heat sparking in his eyes told me he was thinking about it too. I was sitting in his lap, facing him, my legs stretching out behind him. His fingers ran through my hair.
“Your hair is so beautiful,” he said softly. “When you came out of the brothel with Clarity and you had it down, I about forgot myself.”
My cheeks warmed in a pleasant, heady rush.
He cradled my face, brushing his thumbs across my cheekbones. “And don’t even get me started on your freckles.”
My blush deepened and he smirked a little.
“Or your eyes.”
I couldn’t resist the giddy smile that crossed my face, so I buried my face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me, resting them gently on my back. I took a deep breath. No wonder I’d grown attached to that quilt. It smelled so much like Trey, and Trey—
I took a shaky breath, the realization hitting me. “You smell like home.”
“The lavender soap?”
“No,” I whispered, “just you.”
His arms tightened around me and he pressed a kiss to my temple. His voice came out rough with emotion when he said, “I’ll be your home as long as you need.”
We stayed that way for a while, wrapped up together and listening to the sounds of the forest. After a few minutes, he shifted.
“Let’s take off our boots so we can get these rocks in there to dry ’em out.”
I reluctantly left his lap, unlacing my shoes and pulling my wet woolen socks off as he did the same.
My feet were bright red with cold and I winced, trying to rub some warmth back into them.
Trey maneuvered the warm stones into our socks with sticks as I held them open.
Steam rose from the socks as he held them up.
“Now we put these in our boots. You got a spare pair of socks?”
I dug around in my bag, searching for the pair I’d grabbed, pulling things out as I searched. When I held them up, he was staring at me with a soft knowing smile.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“I thought for sure you’d take my quilt and stuff it down the outhouse hole or something.”
I looked down at the quilt I’d pulled out of my pack and then back up at him. “Raven gave it to me.”
“Yeah, I asked her to. You were shivering with that shitty blanket you had, so I gave you my winter one.” His eyes were so beautiful in the firelight. “My mom made that quilt.”
I trailed my fingertips over the soft surface of the blanket, overwhelmed that he trusted me with something so precious.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “I loved it because it smelled like you.” My cheeks warmed again with the realization that he had indeed been home for a while. “I guess that makes sense now.”
He beamed at me, brighter than the sun.
—
After we finished preparing our little camp, we curled up together in the bedroll, adding the quilt on top before Trey tucked in the sides around us.
I took a deep breath, loving that his scent surrounded me now.
We’d both taken off our jackets, comfortably warm with our legs entwined and arms wrapped around each other.
Trey had piled the wood where he could reach it to throw more on the fire when it began to die down.
It felt strange to be trying to sleep in the middle of the day, but I wasn’t about to complain.
He kissed my forehead and I tilted my head up so he could capture my lips again.
He kissed me like he wanted to savor the taste of me.
I wasn’t sure when I began to move against him.
He held me tighter, our kisses turning greedy and wanting.
Warmth spread through me and settled between my legs.
I wanted more. I’d never felt this way before.
Being intimate with Vulture had been desperate and calculated.
Being intimate with Zip had been a task I had to get through. Being intimate with Trey felt…safe.
“I know I said I wanted to wait,” he said roughly, “but gods, I want to touch you.”
“Yes,” I breathed, “please.”
He chuckled, a low sound that made me shiver. “Where do you want me to touch you, Bones?”
“Everywhere,” I murmured, pulling his hand down.
He groaned a curse, and when I released him, his hand slid slowly down the front of my pants. His fingers were cold, but they blazed a trail of heat across my skin. At the first touch between my legs, I whimpered out loud, and he froze.
“Is that—”
“Don’t stop,” I whispered.
I tilted my head up to him, and the heat in those warm brown eyes lit me on fire.
His lips curled into a crooked smile as he began to move, stroking and circling, picking up speed.
I arched toward him, my breath catching as the pleasure increased.
The hard length of him pressed against my thigh.
I reached between us, desperate to feel him, but he caught my wrist with his free hand.
“It’s my turn.” His teeth flashed in a lazy grin and his thumb pressed down exactly where I wanted it, making me jolt with a gasp of pleasure.
I slid my arms up around his neck and kissed him. His free hand moved up my shirt, across my stomach to my breasts as he slipped a finger inside of me.
“Oh gods, Trey,” I moaned, desperate for more and hot enough to burst into flames.
“Fuck,” he swore as I moved against him, whining with pleasure as he worked in a second finger. “Bones.” He said my name like a low groan of desire.
I wanted to hear my name on his lips like that forever. No, I wanted to hear my real name—
The desire built to something almost unbearable. “Trey,” I gasped, digging my nails into his shoulder, “please.” I didn’t even know what I was asking for, only that I needed more of him, all of him.
“Let go, darlin’,” he said huskily. “I got you.”