“I think we just have to accept what is.” I wipe under my eye, forcing tears back where they belong. “We had our shot; it didn’t work.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t do that. Don’t push me away. We can have that again, make it just like it was before.”
“Sometimes you just have to accept the fact that things have changed. I have a great job, I’m saving to get my own place, and I’m paying my own insurance and chipping in with the bills at home. It feels… Kill, it feels so good. I’m standing on my own for the first time in my life.”
“I want a chance to know who you are now. I want to know everything about you. I want to be the one you lean on again.”
“That’s the problem, don’t you see?” I pound my chest with my fist. “I’m not the girl who needs fixing anymore. There’s no more messes for you to clean up. What we had wasn’t fair to you—you taking care of me and me secretly loving you but so damn scared that if I made one wrong move you’d leave and I’d be forced to take care of myself.”
“Watch it, Axelle.” His expression turns deadly. “Don’t say it again.”
“Huh?”
“That’s the second time you’ve said you love me, and if you say it again, I’ll take you”—he motions to the massage table with a quick jerk of his head—“right there. Right now.”
Blood pounds through my veins and I throb everywhere.
“I—”
“I’m serious, Ax.” He pinches his eyes closed and drops his chin. “I’ve been waiting for a year to touch you again, to taste you. I’m walking a fine line right now.”
My legs turn to jelly at the husky sound of his voice. “You wouldn’t.”
His eyes snap to mine. “Oh, I would. I’ve never stopped loving you, never stopped dreaming of a future with you. Not a single fucking day. You still love me.”
I sigh because he’s right. Of course I love him; that’s not something I could turn off. Trust me. I tried. “I always have.”
“Stop.” His voice cracks.
“It’s true. I—”
His big body slams into mine, and his mouth crashes against my lips, taking away every last bit of my voice and rational thought.
Thirty-three
Killian
I’m home.
But it’s not a casual arrival.
It’s a smash-the-door-down-and-light-the-fucking-place-on-fire kind of arrival.
Axelle tastes even better than I remember; the light sweetness of her lips mixed with the peppermint of her tongue makes me ravenous for more. Whatever doubts I had about her feelings for me are put to death by the passion behind her kiss. Her hands rip through my hair, fingers dig into my neck, pulling me deeper under her spell.
I grip at her polo and push it up to expose her breasts. She backs up a few steps, and my lips chase hers until she stops when her ass hits the massage table. I push her bra up to join her shirt, and the heavy weight of her breasts welcomes my touch. “I missed you.”
She groans as I run the pad of my thumb along her nipple. “This is wrong.”
“Shhh.” I dip down and flick the firm peak with my tongue. “It’s right. It’s always been right.”
Her delicate hands glide up my chest and around my neck, holding me to her as I shower her breasts with attention. “Kill.”
I growl in approval at the hungry way she says my name, then cup her between her legs. “You want me here?”
“I…” She shakes her head, but her body arches into my touch.
“I need you to say the words. I need to hear you.”
“Yes.” The single word comes out on a heated breath.
I slide my hands into her tight pants and push them, along with her panties, down to her ankles. That one word pushed off the last of her reservations, and she eagerly toes off her shoes and kicks her clothes off her feet as I remove the shirt and bra. I pull the elastic band that holds her hair back, and her silky hair falls free over her shoulders.
“I dreamed about you, about how you’d look after a year without seeing you. The dreams were incredible and yet not even close to how beautiful you really are.” I scoop her up to place her back on the table, and she parts her legs in invitation. My gaze devours her from the way her dark hair splays across the white sheets to the tips of her blue-painted toes.