At least he’s a good guy, and he has been here forever, and he runs a ranch with his grandfather. He’s like... The salt of the earth. He was in Lane’s store today inspecting the wiring. Just because he’s a good friend. And what have you done?” Her words were furious now, shooting out of her mouth with the velocity of bullets. “What have you ever done for anybody? You cause destruction and pain and then you walk away. You’re going to do it with me. I know you are. So, why are you here? And why do I want to invite you in?”
He reached across the threshold, grabbing hold of her, forking his fingers through her hair and curling them into a fist, grabbing her tight, holding her against him.
“I can’t promise I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice a low growl. “I can’t promise I’m going to leave anything other than a burned-out mass of devastation in the end. Oh but, baby—” he slid his thumb across her bottom lip “—I’ll make you scream all the way there. I can make it feel good.” His throat was prickling, hot with some kind of strange emotion he couldn’t name. “This time I’ll make it feel good,” he said, every word a raw, stripped-down promise that he wasn’t sure made any sense.
She was trembling, her dark eyes liquid with unshed tears. And he still didn’t release her. He still didn’t leave. She was angry, and she was upset, and he was holding her crushed up against his body so that she could feel the raging of his heartbeat, so that she could feel just how hard he was for her. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him.
He didn’t know who the hell he was.
But, he suspected that he hadn’t known who the hell he was from the moment he walked out of Copper Ridge. Because the problem was, when he’d been here, he had known exactly who he was. He was the spitting image of Nathan West. The heir to the older man’s kingdom. A selfish bastard who had never done anything for anyone but himself.
He was the same. He hadn’t changed. Standing here now, he could see that clearly.
He had wanted to be better, but he simply wasn’t. He had just moved fast enough that he’d never been put to the test over all these years.
“All right,” she said slowly. “Make me feel good. I have felt... So bad for so long. My body has never given me much of anything other than pain. And last night you made me feel so damn good. You’re so wrong for me, and I know that it can never be anything but this. And I know that there’s something so very, very wrong with us. That we want this. That we’re doing this. But I don’t care.” She stretched up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips lightly to his. “Please, just make me feel good, Gage.”
That was all the invitation he needed. He propelled them back over the threshold, using his foot to shut the door tightly behind them without taking his hands off of her. He kissed her then, deep and hard, consuming her mouth, each stroke of his tongue going deeper.
He was desperate for her, for this. Desperate to ease the unbearable tension inside of him. It wasn’t all physical. It would be better if it were. But there was an intense, fraught longing between them that went so much deeper than simply sex. If it were sex, it could’ve been with anyone.
But no.
This felt like some kind of misguided bid for healing on both of their parts. Or maybe, they were both just compelled to keep on causing pain. To themselves. To other people. He didn’t know. But he did know that she was with him every step of the way. If he couldn’t raise her up out of the pit, he would at least take comfort in the knowledge that she was willingly walking down into hell with him.
This probably was hell. It burned like it. But underneath that sweet streak of fire it felt so damn good it was hard to care.
“Where’s your bedroom?”
“Down the hall,” she said, her words punctuated with harsh breaths.
He slipped his hands down to cup her ass, moving them down further, taking hold of her thighs and lifting her, wrapping her legs around his back.
He walked them both down the narrow, rustic hallway that led to