blue orbs capture my attention.
“Yes?” I clear my throat as my voice catches.
“What is it about me that you don’t like?”
“Excuse me?” Her question makes no sense.
“You want me.” Her gaze bounces down to my dick, where I’m barely hanging on. “You’ve always wanted me. I don’t think I’m wrong in saying that, but you act like you don’t. Or won’t.” This time, her voice catches. “Is it because of my past? Do you find me disgusting? Is that why you wouldn’t kiss me in the helicopter? Is that why you refuse to touch me now?”
My jaw drops. “You see what you do to me.” How can she not know?
“And yet, you refuse to do anything about it.”
“I never want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”
“Does it look like I don’t want this? Did it feel like I didn’t want you when I kissed you in the helicopter?”
“But…”
“You and this damned honorable code you refuse to let go of. You have no idea, do you?”
“About?”
“You asked if I needed anything.” She lifts her arms out to her side, exposing herself. She’s every man’s wet dream, and she’s standing before me, offering herself.
“Do you?” My attempt to keep things professional erodes with each passing second. “Need anything that is?” I clear my throat.
“I need you, Griff. I’ve always wanted you. I fantasize about you all the time.” She gives a flick of her lashes. “Like all the time. I can’t erase my past. If that’s why you won’t touch me, I can’t change that. But I’ve ached for you from the moment we met.”
“You don’t disgust me. It’s just…”
“Just, what?” She takes another step and closes the distance between us. Her hand lifts and she presses the pads of her fingers to my chest. Her fingertips trail down to my waist and leave a blistering wave of heat behind them. Moira bites her lower lip and peeks up at me through her lashes.
She’s so small. So fragile. So completely perfect for me.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“And how would you hurt me? Other than by refusing me?”
“You escaped a nightmare. And I’m not a gentle lover. I don’t know if I can be, and that’s not what you need right now.”
“Since when do you get to decide what I need and don’t need? You know what hurts the most?”
“No.”
“That I want you as much as I do, yet you make me feel like shit. After everything I’ve endured, all the men pawing at me, not a single one of them made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for them. You do that. You make me feel like damaged goods.”
“Moira, you’re not damaged. You’re amazing. Don’t you know that? Don’t you know how much I care about you? All I want is to be there for you.”
“Then, for the love of God, show me. Show me how you feel. Show me how much you need me. Get out of that damn Guardian headspace for a minute and stop treating me like I’m a broken doll. Or that I can’t handle a little rough sex. I may have issues and shit to sort out but treating me like fine china that will shatter if you so much as look at me isn’t helping. You’re making things worse.”
Worse?
Her finger drops to the waistband of my shorts. I still have that grip on my dick and bite back against the excruciating arousal, which only increases as her fingers splay across my waist.
“Stop making me feel like shit because of what I’ve been through. Can’t you lower your walls and let me in?”
Lower my walls?
Isn’t that exactly what I want her to do with me? To lower her defenses and let me in.
“You don’t understand. I’m not a gentle lover. Never have been. I don’t know if I can be. I don’t want to hurt you, or activate a…”
“A trigger? Is that what you’re afraid of?”
“Of course.”
“Griff, in none of my hundreds of fantasies have I ever imagined you’re gentle. The most arousing experience in my entire life was when you turned me over your knee. I don’t know if I’m twisted in the head, or if I can’t separate dominance from sex, but when you did that, it wasn’t like any of the other men. With them, I was scared, or disgusted. With you… Oh, Griff, you made me burn. My entire body came alive. I don’t need gentle. I need you to be you, rough and raw, hard and