made him think of other things, such as exactly how long it had been for her since she felt that way, and why.
And why you.
Yes, that too.
His fingers tightened in her hair.
“How long?” He was unable to keep from asking. “How long has it been?”
She didn’t look away. “Five years.”
Everything in him stilled. “Five years?”
“Since I got to Deep River. At first I just didn’t want to for…various reasons. And then… It’s hard to find someone in a small town. And I haven’t met anyone I’ve wanted to be with…” Her gaze was very direct. “Until you.”
Something unexpected twisted in his chest.
“Don’t go thinking I’m a good bet,” he said roughly. “I’m not a saint, Astrid. And it hasn’t been five years for me. It’s been a couple of weeks, if that.”
“I don’t think that. And I don’t care how long it’s been for you. I don’t want a saint. I don’t want a relationship.” The silver glitter of her eyes darkened. “I just want a moment. This moment. Right here, right now. I want you to make me feel like I’m something more than the things I am here. And it doesn’t have to be anything but that.”
He couldn’t refuse her. How could he? She’d been through some kind of trauma, he could already tell, and even though he didn’t know what trauma it was, he knew what trauma felt like. He’d been through his own special brand of hell, after all.
And sometimes a moment was exactly what you needed. A break from real life and its burdens. A moment to feel something good.
God, he really wanted to give her that. It might not have been a long time since he’d been with a woman, but it had been a long time since anyone had needed what he had to give. He could make her feel like she was something more. He could make her feel like a goddess.
“Not here. We should go to the Moose.”
“No. People will see us and I don’t want any gossip.”
She wasn’t wrong. Still, the library was a public place.
He released her, then moved around the desk, striding over to the door. Closing it, he flicked the lock so at least they wouldn’t be disturbed, then he stalked back.
The desk was in the corner of the library, out of sight of the windows, and the big shelf that ran down the middle of the room would block them from view anyway. He didn’t really care for himself, but he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.
Then again, given the way she looked at him now as he came toward the desk, she didn’t appear uncomfortable in the slightest—only very hungry.
All of a sudden, he was harder than he’d ever been in his life.
She put her hands back on the desktop and pushed herself up so she was sitting on top of it. Her eyes had gone all silvery, her cheeks a deep pink, her mouth red from his kisses.
She wasn’t just tempting. She was temptation incarnate. All that secret, hidden passion was flaming and he wanted it to flame higher, become a blaze.
Damon stepped forward, raised his hands and took her face between his palms.
Then he took her mouth.
The kiss was hot and unbearably sweet. It made him ache, like the echo of something profound that he’d lost and never thought to find again, only to discover it here, in this tiny town, contained in one cool, capable, sexy woman.
It was a deeper feeling than he was used to, but he couldn’t pull away now. He wanted this to be good for her, to be special. Because if she was only allowing herself one moment, then he wanted to make sure it would be the best damn moment she’d ever had.
He explored her mouth gently, slowly, nipping and tasting, savoring her. She shuddered, her hands coming to his chest and pressing hard against it, kissing him back with a hunger that pulled at the leash that he had on his control.
But he was good. He kept the kiss a gentle tease that he only slowly began to deepen, turning it more intense, more consuming. Her hair against his fingers felt so good and the scent of her body was sweet and warm, wildflowers on a summer’s day.
She gave a throaty moan, her hands sliding down over his chest and stomach, creeping beneath the fabric of his shirt, stroking his skin and leaving little trails of fire everywhere she touched. It made him breathless.
“No,” he murmured