open my mouth to get air past the knot in my throat. “Yes?”
“Is it…the way I look?” Her eyes open wide, as if they’re filling up with tears and she’s trying to keep them from falling.
“What?”
Her eyes glisten. “I think maybe you’re just being moody. Hot and cold. Because of…whatever your reasons are. You might be mad because I fell asleep. But I can’t help thinking—I should ask… Well, I look…different.” She drags air into her lungs, her face a mask of misery. “I guess what I’m saying is, are you bothered by what happened earlier because you aren’t really attracted to me? Because I’m…injured?”
Looking up at her, holding those cookies, clad in my huge coat, I feel my own eyes ache with heat and pressure. I can’t stop my legs from climbing up her stairs, nor my hand gripping her shoulder.
“Look at me.” The words are snarled—much rougher than intended. Her gaze blinks against mine. “That’s what you think?” My heart pounds.
She presses her lips together.
My body feels heavy. My head feels light. Inside my veins, my blood runs hotter.
My finger finds the left side of her mouth: so soft. My jaw twitches as I look into her eyes. “Gwen. You think I care about this?”
Her brows arch: an unsure look.
Despite it all, I know I have to make her sure. I speak softly. “You think this—this little part of you—you think it bothers me? Would bother someone else?”
A tear falls down her round cheek, and my chest aches so much, I look down on instinct, checking for a wound. Of course, there’s nothing visible.
“Open the door, Gwenna.”
She drags her gaze away from mine and turns back to it. I try to inhale, but every part of me is buzzing and I can’t slow down.
My eyes rake over her: the shape of her under my coat. I fist my hands as she pushes the door open.
More than anything in all my life, I long to scoop her up and press her up against me. Standing still— not doing that— It makes my chest ache.
You can’t. It doesn’t matter how you feel.
Gwenna steps inside her living room and turns toward me. Her face flickers with emotion: delicate and fragile. Vulnerable. Because I took what wasn’t mine. I sought comfort from her. From day one, I’ve gotten in too deep with her. Tonight, I did the unforgiveable.
So turn around and go. Your course is set.
I try to tell myself that walking into the cabin behind her will lead to more hurt down the road—for both of us. Logic has no place within me right now, though.
I need to wipe it off her face: that look. And then I’ll step away. I could end tonight on a high note, and then fabricate something: a long trip. After which I come back and pay my debt. Tonight, though—I could bowtie all this, leave her feeling beautiful and good.
Isn’t that the least that I can do for her?
Gwenna sighs. “I just wish I knew what you were thinking. Earlier… I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Or was that even it?” She puts her head in her hands. “I should shut up now. I know. If you don’t want things to be—”
I go to her in one long stride and take her arms in my hands.
“Gwen.” I look down at her face. “That little mouth…” I run my tongue over my own lips while my heart pounds. “You think I don’t want you? That I don’t want these lips…on every part of me?” My voice runs ragged. I swallow as I touch the corner of her mouth. Her eyes widen.
I stroke her lower lip, and my cock throbs.
“I could push you up against the wall—” I take her shoulders, turn her toward the nearest wall— “and rip these leggings off.” My fingers pluck at the elastic waistband. One delves inside, stroking soft, hot flesh.
“I could kiss those lips and then I’d eat that pussy one more time. Does it have red curls? I know it does. I had wondered; now I know. I could push my cock inside you, Gwen. I’d push in deep—until it almost hurts it feels so fucking good. Until you can’t move, and then you’re mine to take, you’re mine to please.”
I wrap a hand around the back of her head, forcing her to look up at me. Her nipples jut against the fabric of her shirt. I twist one, groaning as my dick throbs.
“Do you know how long it’s been?”