can to make sure we survive. But when we leave here, before dawn, we have no idea what’s going to happen. We don’t even have a weather report.” She knew that was a sore point for him as the consummate planner, and sure enough, his mouth tightened. “We could evade the hostiles and die in a blizzard, even with the super-pants and blanket socks.”
Except now he was shaking his head, about to argue, so she got to her point.
“This feels like a bucket list thing,” Tasha said swiftly, searching his eyes. “I mean, you selflessly fulfilling my bucket list, just to be kind?” But then she heard what she’d said.
Thomas couldn’t hide his smile. “You gotta admit, that one goes in the euphemism hall of fame.”
She couldn’t keep from laughing.
Which made her move. Just a little.
Just enough to make his eyelids lower and his hips go up, possibly involuntarily, because he murmured, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” even as she said, “oh God, yes,” as she also couldn’t stop herself from pushing him even more deeply inside of her.
She heard herself moan again, and he took that plus her yes for the permission to proceed that she hadn’t truly intended it to be. And when he pulled her down for a brain-melting kiss as he moved beneath her, she moved against him, too, because God, she really wanted this, and God, it felt so good.
But she wasn’t done arguing and as he freed her mouth to kiss and lick and suckle her breasts, she gasped and then breathed into his ear, “But it’s a euphemism... for a... for a pity fuck.”
He lifted his head at that. “Oh, nah, Tash,” he said, stopping his movement and holding her tightly in place so she couldn’t move again either. “Ah, God... Okay, okay... That is not what this is. No. Nope.”
He was sweating—she was, too—as they stared at each other, immobile again, like they were playing some truly masochistic adults-only version of freeze-tag.
She wanted to believe him, she really did. “But you said you wanted to wait, to take it slowly, and I’m the one who—”
“Yeah, well, sometimes life doesn’t cooperate, so you gotta revise and adjust,” he told her. “In a perfect world, I’d do a lot of things differently. In a perfect world, I would’ve gone to talk to you years ago and woulda not only sat there and listened, but I would’ve heard you and realized everything I’d gotten so damn wrong about who we are and... what we could be.”
He’d said something similar before, but Tasha knew that she would’ve fled the scene if he’d ever showed up to talk. It took being locked in with him for enough hope to grow—enough for her to find the courage to risk her heart again. But at the core of that was another truth—one that she hadn’t dared yet to put voice to. So she took a deep breath and said it. Or at least tried to. “But I quit on you. If this hadn’t happened—this trip and the... this? Being locked in, together?” Their connection never would’ve happened, and she probably would’ve gone ahead and married Ted, who didn’t love her, whom she didn’t love. That was the part that was really hard to say aloud. “I gave up on us, Thomas. I ran away. I let you go, and I let me go, too. I don’t deserve your... kindness.”
He lifted his eyebrows, just a little, and she rolled her eyes and added, “Yeah, I heard that, too. Damn it, I’m trying to be serious here.”
“Tash, I’m listening. I am,” he told her.
Clearly, she was the one having trouble staying focused. So she pulled back from him, and he released her immediately. And God, she missed him instantly—not just the part of her that wanted to orgasm around his thick heat, but the part of her that treasured the intimacy, the closeness and warmth, the love. Especially since now they were both just sitting there, awkwardly naked and obviously aroused, on the sofa.
But oh, God, she needed to talk to him about this.
Thomas swiftly reached for a blanket—handing it to her—as she likewise gave him a pillow to cover himself. It would’ve been funny if—okay, no, it was funny, regardless of any if. He laughed a little, too, even as he radiated warmth and kindness and calm patience.
And he didn’t wait for her to start. He just dove right in.
“I’m not a fan of focusing on who’s to blame for past mistakes,”