Chapter Twenty
Like Amanda had promised, the view was amazing.
Hagan stood in the center of the helipad and didn’t mind that they were standing on top of Amanda’s hotel.
When he focused on the way she seemed to drink in the night, Hagan decided he didn’t care where the hell they were. “How often do you come up here?”
“More often than anyone knows.” She fluffed her long skirt. He set their takeout at the center of the landing pad, and she crouched. “Can we eat here?”
“Why not?” He laughed, taking a seat. “At least until air traffic demands we relocate.”
The steamy scent of dinner wafted out when he opened the bag. Napkins and plasticware topped several containers. “No plates.”
“We’ll survive.”
“That’s the spirit.” And without plates or much discussion, they dove in, sampling the tapas, laughing that their meal could’ve been awkward. But it wasn’t. He could’ve blamed the delayed dinner, but Hagan decided not to look for a reason.
She set her fork on the edge of a container. “You feel like an old soul.”
“I don’t know if I’ve heard that before.” He tossed his fork down and wiped his mouth.
“You don’t waste time.”
He chuckled. “Are you saying old souls make their dates feel like they’re moving too fast?”
“No.” She smiled and sighed, then boxed up their food. “You don’t waste too much time asking why or waiting for someone to read your mind.”
He moved the containers, napkins, and forks into the bag and knotted the top, then moved to her side and stretched his legs out. “Never thought about that before.”
“It’s true.”
He eased his forearms back and leaned back. “Do you ask why a lot?”
Wind lifted her hair from her shoulders. “No.”
He already knew her answer but chuckled at her tone. “Do you say no a lot?”
Amanda nodded. “No lets you control situations.”
“Perhaps.”
“No’s a safe word that puts constraints on everything that can’t be controlled.”
That was one hell of a riddle. For the moment, he didn’t want anything to do with puzzles. Hagan rolled onto his back on the painted rooftop and tucked his hands under his head. After a minute, he inched up and held out an arm.
She hesitated. There would be a back and forth in earning more of her trust. Even the smallest piece made him crave more, so he waited, attempting to be as unthreatening a presence as he could muster.
A warm breeze rolled over the roof. Amanda shifted her legs underneath her skirt.
Hagan left his arm extended for her and reclined.
She scooted closer. His heart hammered. Hagan stared at the stars, unreachable, like this woman with terms and conditions that he’d never understand, and he worried.
For as much as they’d talked and touched, he’d given her this moment to choose. To control.
It killed him to stay quiet. Come here dangled on the tip of his tongue.
Waiting made the worry worse. His jaw ached. Hagan wouldn’t tear his gaze from the sky as his heart slammed in time with the building’s red warning lights.
Amanda swept her hair away and tucked herself close to his side. Her cheek cradled in the crook of his arm. Her breath skipped across his neck.
Hagan forced himself to swallow. “Look up there.”
The softness of her hair slid over his skin.
“A word can’t control everything.” He gestured to the sky. “Sometimes, you shouldn’t try.”
Amanda rolled onto her back, resting the back of her head between his chest and arm.
“Whenever I am high up …” She shook her head.
“I never looked at the sky. At least not like this. I look at the edge. I’m aware of the ground.
” She took a long breath and let it go. “I know how close to push and where I have to stop.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
“I’ve never thought about it like that.” She rolled to her side again, returning her cheek to the same spot that let her breath tease his skin.
He brushed her hair behind her ear. “What do you think?”
Her forehead creased, and then she shook her head. “That I could breathe. That I was free.”
“If that’s what you need to breathe.”
Amanda laid her hand on the center of his chest. Her fingertips rubbed the indentation of his sternum. Hagan sensed that she studied his every breath, and he wondered if she clocked his heartrate speeding like she’d pushed him over the edge.
Her chin pressed against his collarbone. Her lips threatened to nuzzle against his neck, and then she whispered against his eager skin, “I don’t know what I need.”
Hunger knotted in his throat. “That’s too bad.”
Her fingertips stopped drawing their languid pattern against his chest as though her touch had been paralyzed by the God’s honest truth. Because he knew exactly what he needed. To taste her. To feel her. To explore her body and learn every truth that kept her far away. But he’d settle for a kiss.
She fanned her fingers and then curled them against his chest. “Do you know?”
“What I need?” Hagan nodded. “Yeah.”
“What?”
He laughed. “That’s a list that would probably scare you.”
She propped herself onto her elbow, scowling. “I don’t scare.”
Fucking hell. He hoped that was true. Hagan rolled over Amanda.
His forearm stayed at the back of her head.
His free hand threaded into her hair. He’d pinned her under his body, caged her to the rooftop floor, and his mouth touched hers, soft and sweet.
Like heaven had been set on fire, a greedy purr vibrated from her lips.
Feverish need drove him. Amanda dug her nails into his back as though she could claw her way for more. Her hips arched to his, and she struggled, finally locking one leg around his thigh.
Kissing this woman would drive him mad. He wasn’t sure if he’d bothered to breathe. Hagan struggled to pull his mouth away. The way she moved and kissed and held on like he was the last man on Earth had left him insatiable.
He salivated to take her breasts into his mouth, to rub her wetness against her hot flesh. Hagan vibrated with such an all-consuming urge to bring Amanda to orgasm after orgasm that he wasn’t sure how to keep from holding back.
Hagan wrenched his lips from hers and fought to catch his breath.
“You don’t scare me,” she whispered.
Her breathless taunt, full of bullshit and honesty, blinded him with an animalistic urgency to bring her pleasure until she screamed his name.
Hagan grappled with an outrageous level of lust that had started with the honey-sweet kiss. “But you scare the hell out of me.”