before he tackled her, somehow twisting their bodies as they fell so she sprawled across his chest. His low, delighted laughter curled around her, warm as the arms that circled her waist. “Easy as I get.”
Too easy. Too intimate. She wiggled out of his arms and landed on the ground beside him. “You smile like you’re not used to it, did you know that?”
Laughter died, and he twisted his head to stare at her. “It’s been a while. Only other person willing to poke at me until I laugh is Kat. I always figured she did it because she knows I’m not going to kill her, even if I’m glaring like I want to. An empathy thing.”
“Maybe.” She wanted to reassure him with her touch, but she thrummed with a sexual awareness he could surely sense. “Is everyone else so careful with you because they’re scared?”
“Some of them are.” He slid his fingers over hers, his hand a heavy weight. “What do you feel? Beneath the sex, what does my power feel like?”
Dominant. Implacable. “You’re strong, and you’re intense.” All things so wound up in her attraction to him that there could be no separation.
“And I’m a little crazy. Or I act that way enough that everyone thinks it’s true. Better if most of the scary people in town are wary of pissing me off.”
“Makes sense.” His hand was huge, warm and a bit rough. She wanted to feel it on her body, sliding down her back and curling around her hip to hold her still for a hard, demanding thrust.
The mental image formed so quickly that all she could do was bite her lip as she blinked and willed it away.
His fingers tightened around hers. “I hate not knowing what to do. If I’ll hurt you more leaving you alone, or by giving you what you crave. I don’t want to hurt you at all. Do you have any fucking idea how long it’s been since I didn’t know what to do?”
“You’re too hard on yourself,” she admonished. “It isn’t your job to keep me from hurting, and no one knows everything all the time.”
“It’s my job to keep from hurting you.” He lifted his hand and hers with it, sliding it up until they pressed into the grass over her head. Then he released her and rolled to his side, propped up on his elbow so the bulk of his body loomed above her. “It’s all a damn excuse. It’s my job, and I’d be doing it anyway…but that’s not why I’m doing it now.”
It was the most nonsensical thing she’d heard in a while. “Are you saying you want to protect me?”
“I’m saying I want to protect you.” His free hand landed on her stomach, skimming up to skip over her breasts and land on her collarbone. “You’re not scared of me. Even when I’m acting crazy.”
“Because you’re not crazy.” She caught his hand and held it still. “Don’t do this just because you think I need it. It’s not worth it.”
His eyes looked so dark they might as well have been black. “Honey, I thought you were an empath.”
“You know what I mean. If you still think I’m not in my right mind, the guilt would kill you, and I only want you to feel good about this.”
He considered that for a moment, then guided her other hand up above her head. “I’m going to kiss you. Deep. Hard. You okay with that?”
He’d urged her into a position of submission—both hands over her head, her body stretched out beneath his—and it made her shake with anticipation. “More than okay.”
“You want me to stop, you say stop.” One hand curled around both of her wrists, gentle but unyielding. “You want more, ask for it. Okay?”
Carmen pulled against his grasp, not to free herself but to test his strength. He held tight, her eyes fluttered shut under a wave of need. “Yes.”
His free hand settled at her hip in a possessive grip. Power built in the space between them, a slow, steady rise that mirrored the dark heat in his eyes as he lowered his mouth, lips barely touching hers. “Let me in.”
The command released something inside her, a tension she hadn’t noticed before he eased it, and she closed her eyes again. Honesty was one thing, even a kiss…
Don’t think, Carmen. Feel.
She obeyed, loosening her tight hold on control, gasping when the first waves of empathic feedback echoed off him to heat her own body.
His beard scraped