Chapter 2 #3
I lean my forehead against hers and let her feel the energy between us. “You’re safe here. No one will hurt you.” I keep my voice low and steady.
“I’m sorry. It’s just it’s…”
“You don’t owe me an explanation. But I do owe you assurances that while you are in my presence, no one will harm you.”
Something shifts deep in my chest. Not desire, although that's burning through me hot enough to scorch.
It's a deeper feeling. Can’t figure it out, but it feels like a pull toward protecting this woman that makes no sense for someone I met three minutes ago. My body responds like I've done this before. Like I already know what her fear looks like and my hands already know how to answer it.
Then again, wouldn’t I do that for any scared woman? But I have never looked at a trembling woman and felt my body lurch forward with this bone-deep need to stand between her and whatever put that fear in those blue eyes.
I can't explain it. I guess I don't need to.
I reach for her hands. Slow, giving her room to pull back.
When she doesn’t, my fingers find hers and I ease the knot apart, gentle, the way I handle contract details too fragile to force.
Her fingers are small inside my palms. Cold and delicate against the rough calluses I've built on the heavy bag.
I run my thumb across her knuckles, slow, and her breath catches.
The sound of it, that tiny hitch, sends a jolt of heat straight down my spine.
"You're shaking."
"I know." A strand of blonde catches on her lower lip. "I'm also not leaving. So we should probably figure out what happens next."
Her fingers tighten around mine. Squeeze. And the pressure of her small hands gripping mine like I'm an anchor wraps around my heart and offers a warmth that fifteen years of whiskey never managed.
I watch her face shift. The tension around her eyes softens. Her jaw unclenches. Her shoulders drop a fraction of an inch. I feel the exact moment she decides to trust me because her fingers stop trembling inside my grip.
I lead her deeper into my penthouse. Her hip brushes my thigh as we move through the hall, brief and warm through fabric, and my gut clenches.
She smells like innocence and a floral warmth that is as honest as the woman wearing it.
I breathe her in before I can stop myself.
The want floods through me again. Raw. A full-body pull toward this woman that makes the disciplined, controlled part of my brain shut its mouth for the first time in years.
I guide her to the island, my hand still resting at the small of her back. The warmth of her seeps through the thin fabric and into my palm. I don't move it until I have to, and when I finally pull away her body sways toward mine for half a second before she catches herself.
I pour whiskey into the waiting glass. Our fingers brush when she takes it and the contact lights up every nerve from my hand to my shoulder. She feels it too. Her breath hitches and her blue eyes dart to my mouth before she pulls them back to the glass.
She wraps both hands around the whiskey and brings it to her lips. Takes a slow sip. Her eyes close for a beat and the tension in her shoulders loosens as the warmth spreads through her. When her lashes lift, her gaze finds mine and stays.
I lean against the island across from her. Close enough that her knee grazes my thigh. She doesn't pull away. Her eyes travel over my rolled sleeves, the veins in my forearms, the open collar of my shirt. The slow path of her gaze feels like a physical touch. Heat trails everywhere she looks.
"You're staring," I murmur.
"You're worth staring at." The words come out soft, almost surprised, like she didn't give herself permission to say them. Color blooms across her cheeks and she takes another sip to hide behind the glass.
I reach over and tilt the glass down with one finger. Her blue eyes meet mine, wide and unguarded, and the look on her face hits me somewhere deep and permanent.
The penthouse hasn't felt like this in years. Warm. Full. Alive with the presence of a beautiful woman.
I take the glass from her hands. Set it on the granite beside mine.
Her lips part, a question forming that dies the second I cup her face in both hands and bring my mouth down on hers.
The rough grain of my beard drags across her chin and she gasps into my mouth, her fingers curling tighter into my shirt.
I file that sound away. Every nerve I own wants to hear it again.
She tastes like whiskey and warmth and the soft, startled sound she makes against my lips unravels every thread of control I've been gripping all night.
I kiss her slow at first. Learning the shape of her mouth, the fullness of her bottom lip, the way she opens for me on a trembling breath and lets me in.
My tongue finds hers and she melts. Her hands fly to my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.
I tilt her head back and deepen the kiss.
She moans into my mouth, low and raw, and the sound vibrates through my jaw and straight down my spine.
Her body arches into mine and I feel her nipples harden through the thin fabric of her dress, pressing into my chest. My hand slides from her jaw down the column of her throat, over the wild hammering of her pulse, and she shivers under my touch.
I grip her waist and lift her off the floor.
She weighs nothing in my arms. Her legs wrap around me on instinct, thighs squeezing against my hips, and the heat of her pressed against my stomach burns through every layer between us.
Her arms circle my neck and her fingers push into my hair and she kisses me back with a hunger that makes my knees threaten to buckle.
I carry her down the hallway. Her mouth never leaves mine.
Her breath comes in short, desperate pulls between kisses and her fingers tighten in my hair every time I press her closer.
The bedroom door is open. I walk through it, her body wrapped around mine, her heartbeat hammering against my chest hard enough that I can feel it through my own ribs.
I have held contracts worth millions and never trembled, but right this second my hands are shaking.
And fuck it. I'm already counting down the hours until morning when I ask her to tell me her name and stay.