Chapter 18
Justin POV
The three words hung in the space between our faces, warm and fragile against the howling blizzard outside.
Then don't.
My lungs emptied on a ragged, shuddering breath, the air whistling through my teeth. Every muscle coiled along my spine went fluid, the tension that had held me together for five years giving way all at once.
Penny sat across my lap on the leather sofa, her hazel eyes glittering in the amber glow of the dying hearth. Her small hands were still clutching the black cotton over my shoulders, her knuckles white, her pulse jumping visibly in the hollow of her throat.
She wasn't running. She wasn't hiding behind Dr. Vance or her clinical logbook.
She was sitting in my living room, wearing my oversized hoodie, looking at me like I was the only thing standing between her and the storm.
I didn't rush. I had spent four weeks starving for this; I wasn't going to tear through it like a street brawl.
My large hands slid down from her neck, my palms gathering the thick fleece of my gray Ironclads hoodie at her hips. The fabric was soft beneath my calloused fingers, bunching as I slowly, deliberately drew it upward.
Penny’s breath hitched in a sharp, shallow gasp, but she didn't pull away. She raised her arms, letting me guide the heavy sweatshirt up over her torso and off her head, tossing it onto the floor beside the hearth.
She sat in the firelight in only a delicate emerald-lace bra, the underwire lifting her breasts, her honey-warm skin glowing like heated bronze in the embers. Her dark curls tumbled loose around her bare collarbones, tiny goosebumps prickling across her arms as the room's air brushed her skin.
My jaw slackened, my back teeth parting as I stared at her.
She was small—five-foot-four and slender—and sitting against my massive, scarred frame, the contrast was devastating. A thin white scar traced the edge of her ribs from some childhood spill; her skin was smooth, silky, and burning with a fevered warmth that reached straight into my chest.
My throat worked on a dry, thick swallow.
"Look at you," I rasped, my voice dropping into that deep, gravel-scraped register that made her eyelashes flutter.
My hands came up, my thumbs smoothing across the delicate hollows beneath her collarbones, feeling the frantic, heavy thud of her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Justin," she breathed, her hands sliding down to grip my bare biceps, her fingernails pressing into the hard muscle.
"You're the prettiest thing that's ever walked into this town, Penny," I murmured, leaning down until my lips grazed the hollow beneath her ear. "And you're done hiding from me."
* * *
I didn't give her time to overthink the cold air on her skin.
I hooked one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, gathering her hundred and twenty-two pounds against my chest as I stood up from the leather sofa.
Penny let out a soft, surprised gasp, her arms immediately locking around my neck, her thighs pressing flush against my ribs. She buried her face into the curve of my neck, her warm, chapped lips brushing the pulse point hammering beside my collarbone.
I carried her down the short, dark hallway toward my bedroom.
The floorboards were cool beneath my bare feet, the silence of the apartment broken only by the concussive rattle of the lake-effect wind slamming against the exterior brick.
My bedroom was cold, dominated by a king-sized platform bed dressed in a heavy charcoal wool quilt and dark linen sheets.
Opposite the mattress, a tall casement window looked out into the storm, the glass coated in a thick, crystalline crust of frost that refracted the distant amber glow of the harbor light.
I laid her down in the center of the dark bedding.
The charcoal wool yielded beneath her weight, her dark hair fanning across the pillows like spilled ink. She looked up at me through the shadows, her chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven hitches, her hands resting flat on the mattress beside her hips.
I reached down, gripped the hem of my black compression shirt, and pulled it over my head with my left arm, tossing it into the dark corner.
Penny’s gaze tracked the movement, her eyes widening as they mapped the landscape of my torso—the broad clavicles, the pale scars across my ribs from skate blades and crosschecks, the dark hair trailing down the center of my stomach into my flannel pants, and the slight, healing elevation of my right AC joint.
She reached up, her small, cool fingers brushing the skin over my sternum, tracing the line of my pectoral muscle.
"Does it hurt?" she whispered, her clinical instincts flickering for a fraction of a second as she looked at my shoulder.
"Nothing hurts when you're touching me, sweetheart," I rumbled.
I climbed onto the mattress, crawling over her until my massive, two-hundred-and-twenty-eight-pound frame hovered above hers. I planted my knees on either side of her hips, propping my weight on my forearms so I didn't crush her, letting the full, scalding length of my torso settle against hers.
The contact was immediate, heavy, and searing.
Her breath rushed out in a long, shuddering sigh, her eyelids fluttering shut as her body molded to mine under the blankets.
"Open your eyes, Penny," I commanded softly, the gravel in my voice thick and low.
Her lashes lifted. Her hazel eyes locked onto mine, dark and dilated, the gold flecks consumed by the darkness of the room.
"Look at me," I murmured, my hand rising to frame the side of her jaw, my thumb smoothing across her parted lower lip. "I want you looking at me for every second of this."
"I'm looking," she whispered, her voice trembling faintly.
"Good girl," I rumbled, leaning down until my mouth was inches from hers. "You're safe with me, Penny. But you're mine now. Understand?"
She nodded, a slow, deliberate movement, her fingers sliding into the dark hair at the back of my neck, pulling my face down to hers.
* * *
The kiss was slow, deep, and heavy with an agonizing restraint that tested every boundary of my self-control.
My mouth moved over hers, tasting the peppermint of the tea we had left on the table, the sweet almond soap of her skin, and the raw, breathless surrender she offered up without a single defense.
Her lips were soft, slick, and parted, welcoming the sweep of my tongue with a quiet, desperate hunger that matched the ache roaring in my veins.
I shifted my weight, my right hand sliding down between our bodies to the rolled waistband of the flannel sweatpants she wore.
My fingers caught the soft cotton, easing the pants down over the curve of her hips, down the smooth length of her thighs, until they fell away over her bare feet.
Penny arched her back off the mattress, a soft, helpless whimper catching in her throat as the cool air touched her bare legs, instantly replaced by the furnace heat of my heavy thighs settling between hers.
I didn't rush. I mapped every inch of her skin with my hands and my mouth.
I kissed the sharp angle of her jaw, the soft, sensitive hollow beneath her ear, the trembling line of her collarbone. My calloused palms stroked the smooth swell of her hips, my fingers digging gently into the soft flesh of her waist, anchoring her against the mattress.
"Justin," she gasped, her hands clutching at the dark charcoal quilt beneath her shoulders, her knuckles turning white in the linen. "Justin, please..."
"I've got you," I rasped against the bare skin of her throat, my voice thick with a dark, commanding reverence. "Just breathe for me, Penny. Feel this."
My hand moved to the front clasp of her lace bra, flicking the metal hook open with a single flick of my thumb. The fabric parted, exposing the soft, perfect curves of her breasts to the dim light.
A sharp, violent tremor rippled through her chest. Her skin was fever-hot, her nipples tight and peaked against the cold draft drifting from the window.
I leaned down and took her mouth again, slanting my lips over hers in a bruising, possessive rhythm while my palm cupped her breast, my thumb brushing the sensitive peak until she let out a broken, shuddering sob into my mouth.
Her hips lifted off the bed, pressing into mine, seeking the heavy friction of my body against hers through the fabric of my flannel pants.
The contact sent a bolt of pure, blinding heat straight down my spine.
"Look at what you do to me," I growled against her lips, my forehead crashing against hers, my chest heaving in ragged, uneven bursts. "You completely undo me, sweetheart."
"Don't stop," she begged, her voice raw, her fingernails digging through the muscle of my shoulders, her legs shifting to pull me closer into the notch of her thighs. "Justin, don't stop."
I raised my head, looking down into her flushed, beautiful, ruined face.
Her hazel eyes were feverish with need, her chest heaving beneath mine, her mouth wet and swollen from my kisses. There was no fear left in her. No hesitation. Only an absolute, unflinching trust that brought me to my knees.
"I'm not stopping, Penny," I whispered, my hand sliding beneath the small of her back, lifting her into my hips. "I'm never letting you go."
And as the storm raged against the glass outside, I reached down, stripped away the last remaining barrier between us, and prepared to claim the only thing in this world that had ever mattered.