Moving closer until her body nearly touched his, she stared up at him. Love and certainty gleamed in her brown eyes. “You aren’t going to hurt me, Cliff.”
How he wished he shared her confidence. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do,” she countered, her voice still soft and full of affection. “You aren’t going to hurt me. And you don’t frighten me even when you fly into a rage. Does it startle me sometimes?” She smiled. “Yes. Because that deep, sexy voice of yours can get loud. But whatever horrible things are going on up there”—she tapped his forehead—“will only ever hurt me if they drive you to harm yourself.” Arching a brow, she gave him a stern look. “And if that ever happens, I’m telling you right now that I’m going to paddle your ass and give those voices a stern talking to.”
Relieved that she wasn’t angry over his sending Aidan to her, Cliff drew her into a tight hug and buried his face in her hair. “Damn, I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Snuggling into him, she released a contented sigh. “But I’m dead serious about paddling your ass.”
Cliff laughed.
“How was your day?”
“A lot like yesterday. Not great in the beginning because I couldn’t sleep.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, taking comfort in the familiar scent of coconut oil. “But Aidan took me into the sunlight again.”
She tilted her head back. “It really doesn’t hurt?”
“Not at all. I feel like shit though because I know it hurts him.”
“He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t want to, Cliff.”
“I know.”
“And it quiets the voices?”
“Yeah. At least it has both times we tried it. Between that and working out my aggressive impulses while hunting, I feel better than I have in months.”
“Excellent. What would you like to do tonight?”
“Dinner and dancing?”
She grinned. “Dinner and dancing it is.”
They prepared a meal together, creating what Cliff hoped would be another fond memory for her. With the voices reduced to angry murmurs, he could enjoy teasing and bantering with her, stealing kisses and caresses while he put together salads and she whipped up some fettuccine Alfredo.
They ate at the coffee table, sitting cross-legged on the floor across from each other, knees touching. Cliff smiled and nodded as she told him about her day. He laughed when she relayed Cynthia’s description of Todd’s latest attempt to spice up their love life with more role-playing.
“Where does he get these ideas?” he asked around a chuckle.
She shook her head. “He knows she likes historical romance novels.”
“So he thought a full suit of armor would be sexy?”
She laughed. “Until he fell down and couldn’t get back up again because it was so damn heavy.”
Once they cleaned the dishes and tucked away the leftovers—activities so wonderfully domestic that he didn’t find them tedious as some did—they took her phone and Bose speaker out onto the front porch.
Emma donned some sneakers while Cliff programmed a playlist with both fast and slow songs. Then he led her down the steps, onto her front lawn, and drew her close.
They danced for almost an hour before the cursed voices rose in volume.
Sensing the change in him, she took his face in both hands and drew him down for a kiss. “Take me, Cliff. I want you.”
He wanted her, too. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her inside and lowered her to the bed. He wanted to go slow. Wanted to remind her of the tenderness of which he was capable. Wanted to show her the reverence and adoration he felt for her. But the fucking voices kept bellowing in his ears. Fury and frustration rose as he fought to block them out. And desperation once again roughened his touch.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured afterward, his body curled around hers. “I wanted to go slow. To be gentle.”
Reaching back, she rested a hand on his hip and urged him tighter against her. “Three orgasms, honey,” she mumbled as sleep crept up on her. “Three orgasms.” She sighed. “You’re the only man on the planet who would apologize for that.”
Because she deserved so much more than he could give her.
“Love you,” she breathed.
“I love you, too.”
Sleep claimed her.
Cliff held her as long as he could before the fury and aggression within him approached dangerous highs. Slipping silently from the bed, he dressed, grabbed his duffel, and left.
A sojourn in sunlight and slaying multiple vampires had only given him a few hours’ respite from