Beneath the Stars (Falling Stars #4) - A.L. Jackson Page 0,82
bed.
He brushed back my hair as our breaths evened.
That same energy lapped, but it’d been lulled into a quieted peace.
Then Rhys grinned. This sweet, wicked smirk that made me weak all over again. “Must’ve died and went to heaven. Goddess Girl.” He traced his finger along the angle of my chin.
My teeth raked my bottom lip, like maybe it stood a chance of holding back the affection that bled free.
Impossible.
“I thought I told you to stop calling me that or else I might get the idea that I have a chance with you?”
Sadness drifted through his smile. “Clearly it’s me who doesn’t stand a chance.”
Twenty-Two
Rhys
I stared down at the girl who gazed up at me. Two of us locked. A tangle of limbs and erratically beatin’ hearts.
It was certified.
A little checkmark next to my name.
I had officially lost it.
Gone so reckless that I could feel the devastation simmerin’ at the edges of my sight. Collecting at the farthest edge of the ocean. Coming like a tsunami. Gathering strength as it rushed forward with the full intention to annihilate.
Just loved to play with fire, didn’t I?
But I wasn’t sure I could stomp out these flames if I tried.
No way to turn from the one who made it feel like something bigger might be possible.
A way out.
An escape.
Like she might see all I was responsible for and still find something worthy to keep around, anyway.
Swore to God, there was a sanctuary in those charcoal eyes.
Understanding and goodness and all the things I knew better than hopin’ for.
This girl who’d swooped in without warnin’ and ensnared me.
Her kiss motherfuckin’ bliss.
Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fall.
Was chanting it. Searching for a way to resurrect a wall. Maybe put up a steel barrier or two. Somethin’ to keep me from heading in the direction of a place I couldn’t go.
I edged off her so I could ditch the condom in the wastebasket next to my bed, hoping it might put a little space between us when I did.
Only thing it achieved was me rushing back for her. Needing her warmth. Though this time when I wrapped her in my arms, I shifted us a fraction so we were lying on our sides.
Just…looking at each other through the languid darkness. Memorizing a moment that meant more than it should.
With a trembling hand, Maggie reached out and ran her fingers through my beard.
Softly.
Reverently.
Adoration I didn’t know how to stand beneath rolled off her in waves.
“You keep doin’ that.” My smile was slow. Voice soft.
She almost giggled. “What’s that?”
“Pettin’ me.” I let the tease wind with the murmured words.
Maggie grinned. “Well, you are a stallion. What do you expect me to do?”
My chest squeezed. So tight. Didn’t know if it was in pain or affection. I fiddled with a lock of her hair. “You regrettin’ taking that ride, yet?”
I went for light.
Playful.
Didn’t come close to pulling it off considerin’ I choked over the words.
Fact that earlier I’d been faced with the truth that I had to ignore this. Turn my back on this connection. It wasn’t safe. That bastard would do whatever he could to ruin me. Destroy everyone around me if they got too close just for the sake of causing me pain.
And all it’d taken was her care for us to end up here.
Her fingers scratched deeper into my beard before she caressed them along my lips. “I could never regret a second spent with you.”
Shame clawed through me and closed off my throat. “Wish I could be worthy of that statement.”
“And I wish you saw yourself the way that I do.”
Grief flashed, old wounds ripping wide open.
Screams.
Shouts.
Blood.
Loss.
I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop it.
Didn’t have time to brace myself against them. To keep it from flashing across my face. But I should have known better, anyway, known she could feel each of them like she was experiencing them herself.
“Rhys. My wild boy with the biggest, most beautiful heart.” She set her hand over the hammering it was currently doing against my ribs.
“It’s all fucked up, Maggie.” I murmured the confession. Praying she’d get it. “Not mine to give.”
And the problem was, it was reaching for her, anyway. Communin’, the way she’d said. Like this was where I belonged.
Guilt invaded.
The promise I had made that I didn’t have a single fuckin’ clue how to keep.
“You’re thinking about her? The one you fell in love with?” There was no judgement there. No hurt except for the hurt she was feelin’ for me.