she might burst. There was too much to take in, to consider, to analyse—and over the top of everything she should be thinking, Nate’s voice played like some kind of recording. Not for the first time, she wished her own ridiculous memory to hell. Because now she’d have to go the rest of her life recalling those words, and the way he looked at her as if it were all true, as if he wanted her like nothing else.
This couldn’t be happening. Even the most passionate moments of Hannah’s life, from filthy one night stands to so-called-love, hadn’t made her feel like this. These things didn’t happen in real life—or maybe they did, for some people, but not for her. For her, everything was numb and distant and swaddled in cotton wool, and she appreciated the protection, the safety, enough to forgo that raw emotion…
So why did she feel everything like a blade scraping over bare skin right now? Why did she believe him?
“Nate,” she said, her voice a ragged whisper. “Look at me.” She hadn’t known what she was going to say before the words came out of her mouth, but they felt oddly right.
Then he turned, and she knew they were right. She’d needed to see him, just like this, looking as confused as she felt. There were no tricks here. He was just as lost as she was.
“Come here,” she said.
He shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“If you let me, I’ll—” He broke off. “No. No. I can’t touch you.”
She moved toward him, as slowly and steadily as he’d done to her ten minutes before. This time, she stalked him into a corner—against the cool expanse of the kitchen island. He reached back and gripped the counter until his knuckles were paper-white.
Nate dragged in a breath, his eyes pinned to hers, a sort of desperation gleaming from their depths. “What are you doing?”
She had no idea. She knew, logically, that she was standing in front of him, barely a breath between their bodies—and now she was raising a hand, and she would put that hand on him, and it would feel fucking good, and it would change everything.
But she didn’t understand where all this torrential need had come from, or how it was overpowering her common sense and forcing her to do this. All she knew was that when he looked at her, she saw something worth chasing. Something that turned her into a wilder version of herself, something that felt like a drug without adverse effects. She’d heard people talk about losing their minds with lust, and she’d thought they were childish—too cowardly to admit that they’d acted with complete consciousness, using something as bland and ordinary as desire to be their shield.
She was starting to think she’d never really known desire. It certainly wasn’t bland and ordinary now. It wasn’t as anxiety-inducing as a crush, either, or as easily contained as thoughtless lust.
Desire, apparently, had a life of its own.
Hannah let her fingertips trace the words tattooed over his chest, words that stemmed from the dark branches of a barren tree. “No gods, no kings,” she murmured, smiling slightly. “You don’t love my God, Nate?”
He let his head fall back, his eyes closed. “I’ll love whatever you tell me to. Take me to church. I don’t give a fuck.”
She laughed. “I won’t hold you to that.” But her laugh was shaky, almost as shaky as she felt. Adrenaline must have been tearing through her veins, because her hand was far from steady when she brushed over the tiny silver bar through his nipple.
He sucked in a breath, his hips jerking forward. They were already standing so close, and the action brought them firmly into contact. Hannah felt the rigid outline of his dick press against her belly, and the fact that he was even hard at all dragged a moan from her throat.
His eyes snapped open, burning into her. “Fuck, I want to kiss you.”
She ran her hands over his chest, his shoulders, drinking in the hard muscle and soft skin, pushing her body against his, the pressure just enough to tease—him or her, she wasn’t sure. Either. Both. “What else do you want to do?”
“Hannah…” His voice cracked, her name a plea.
“Just once,” she said. “We’ll do this just once, and then we’ll go back to the way it was before.”
There was a pause, too long and far too weighty. She thought he’d say no. She knew he’d say no.
Until, finally, he