Murder_ A Sinful Secrets Romance - Ella James Page 0,56

smile. It looks both sweet and smug. His eyes find mine, and the scales tip to sweet; almost indulgently so.

“You’re tense,” he says softly.

“I know.” For the second time in the last hour, I feel like a teenager again.

He squeezes me closer, and I feel his big chest rise and fall. “I thought you wanted to be friends,” he whispers.

“Is this what friends do?” My words are husky. Charged. I strain my gaze to look up at his face without moving my cheek off his pec. I find his eyes closed.

“I don’t know,” he answers. His hand strokes my shoulder, and I want to shriek—or rip his pants off. As it is, I feel a little shaky. Like I’m on a roller coaster.

He presses his cheek against the top of my head. I shiver as his scruff tickles my hair.

“You smell good,” he murmurs, his arm around me squeezing.

I wrap my arms gently around his chest. “You’re nice and warm,” I whisper. Underneath my carefully roving fingers, all I feel are ridges of hard muscle. On his back… along his side…

I feel a hot pulse in between my legs and have to take a slow breath so I don’t implode.

We stay like that for a brief stretch of time—Barrett leaning on the window, his legs out in front of him; me tucked up against him, unable to move or think.

Every breath he takes is hypnotic. I find I love the feel and smell of him. The strength and size of him.

Why is he doing this?

He’s lonely…

So am I.

His fingers stroke my shoulder once more, and my stomach tightens. I can feel him take a long breath—and then he pulls me closer, curving his wrist so the rough, warm fingertips of the hand that’s cupping my shoulder straighten out and drift over my neck.

I’m struggling to breathe around the knot in my throat when he pulls his arm out from around me, and shifts so he’s kneeling in front of me. His hands cup my elbows, roving up from there. One comes to rest on my collarbone; the other spreads over my throat.

“What do you want with me?” The words are almost groaned. They strike straight to my heart, which stops, then takes off at a gallop.

“What do you mean?” I murmur, looking at his solemn face.

His eyes shut.

“What do you mean?” I whisper, gently. I reach a hand out, stroking his warm neck.

His eyes open. His hands frame my face—gently—and I feel his rough cheek brush against mine. His arms encircle me and then his mouth is near my ear. I can hear and feel him take a deep breath; so deep it’s almost like a gasp.

I pull him close, his face against my shoulder, his huge torso bowed around me. I find I have to swallow before I speak, and even then, my voice is raspy. “I don’t want anything from you, Bear.” My hand rubs a circle on his back.

His breath tickles my shoulder. “Why are you so kind?” It’s almost groaned.

My heart squeezes painfully. I hold him tighter. “I’m not…that way. I’m just…” I cup his head, shaking mine—because it’s all I can manage.

He leans against me, and I take him. With one shoulder pressed against the window, I take all his heavy weight, so I can feel it when he shudders.

“What’s the matter?”

“I feel like I’m dreaming. None of this…feels real.”

I hold him tightly, aching at the raw pain in his voice. I stroke his nape. “I think you’re tired,” I whisper.

I kiss his hair. I don’t mean to, but here he is—his big, heavy, beautiful body cradled up against me, just the way I’ve wanted since I met him.

It’s such a small kiss, so fast and light, it takes me a long moment to realize that since I pressed my lips against him, I can feel him breathing faster.

“You should go home, Gwenna.”

“Why?” I whisper.

He lifts his head and frames my face with his hands, lifting my chin so we’re eye to eye—and I can see his heavy-lidded ones. “Because you’re right. I’m tired. And I don’t have a lot of self-control.”

SEVENTEEN

GWENNA

My body flares white hot as his words roll through my mind. It’s been so long since anyone— I think I haven’t heard him right.

Then his forehead presses against mine. His arms encircle me, warm hands stroking up and down along my sides. His dazed eyes cling to mine, and they are more transparent than I’ve ever seen them. I feel like I can