When He's Dirty, стр. 32
“No. I do what I do for me, and I—I haven’t—never mind. This is a bad idea.” She starts to move.
I capture her waist and hold her steady. “You haven’t what?”
“Had sex in two years, if you must know, I stayed on the pills because, well, I just did.” Her hands come down on my arms. “Let me go.”
The unexpected response has my attention. Everything about Pri has my attention. “Since Logan?”
“Yes. And don’t start reading into that. I needed time for me and I took it.”
Time to herself means time to heal. I know then just how deeply he hurt her and I have this ridiculous moment of jealousy, followed by a deep need to find him and punch him. Her hand presses to my face and I’m back in the moment, and I land there with one realization. She’s recoiled all right, from men in general. Until tonight.
“And here I am,” I say softly.
“Because I thought you were Rafael,” she teases, but I’m not laughing.
This gorgeous, intelligent woman who is ten shades of damaged and sheltered in place to protect herself has offered herself to me, at least for “the moment” as she called it. She deserves better than me and she doesn’t even know it. Proven by the fact that I’m too damn selfish to save her from herself and me.
My hands slide to her face and I dare to tell her exactly why I’m still here, and why I don’t care about the way we complicate this trial. “I haven’t chosen anything in my life in years,” I say. “But I chose you, too, Pri.” I kiss her then, and when my tongue slides against hers I can feel her soften against me, melting into a place we both crave—a place where tomorrow doesn’t matter.
Our shared confessions seduce, provocative in their very nature and so is the way we undress each other. She’s back on top of me, my hand low on her back, when I press inside her, I can taste her soft gasp on my lips. She slides down my cock and now I’m the one groaning with the tight, wet squeeze of her body.
“Damn, you feel good, Pri,” I whisper, cupping her face, my lips at her ear. “Impossibly good,” I add, my voice rough, my body pulsing inside her.
I mold her close, my hand low on her spine, my touch possessive, a brand I want her to remember. The air thicken around us, the connection I feel with this woman a living, breathing thing I cannot control. It’s controlling me. I think it’s controlling us both and inside the passion lives our pain. Two people, two kinds of pain, that are somehow lost in the passion. At least for now, we are the sum of a new beginning, two people lost in each other and it’s powerful.
We lean into each other, our mouths colliding, tongues licking a seductive dance, an emotionally charged kiss that is nothing I expect and somehow everything I need. Hunger curls inside me and I thrust into her, pulling her hard against me. She gasps, and her finger flex on my shoulders. Desperation roars between us, humming in our bodies that grind together fast and hard, and then sway slow and easy. It’s in those seductive moments that I feel Pri in a way I didn’t know I could feel a woman. She feels it, too, and her body responds. She arches into me, burying her face in my neck, and then her body spasms around my shaft. I moan and thrust into her one final time, holding her as I shudder through my release.
When we’re both relaxed, I hold her a moment, trying to figure out what in the hell just happened. What is this woman doing to me? I don’t know my answer. And right now, I’m not going to try to figure it out. I roll her to her side, clean us up, and I’m aware that this is when I’d normally leave but I don’t. I’m just not ready. I lie down on the couch, and take her with me, folding her close. Her head rests on my shoulder and her fingers tease the dark hair on my chest.
My lashes lower and I don’t overthink this. I just hold her. That is until she whispers, without looking at me, “I defended the wrong people, bad people. So I really am bad, too.” She hesitates and adds, “And I don’t like that about me.”
She’s not bad, not even close, but this new confession, spoken thoughtfully and honestly, in an unsolicited and vulnerable moment, tells me just how deep her demons run, just how much guilt she feels. And no one can relate more than I relate, so I say the only thing I can say. “I understand the feeling, sweetheart.”
She doesn’t reply and I say no more, either. I mean, no one wipes away our pain by telling us it isn’t real. Instead, I lay there and listen to her breathing grow steady and slow. She fades into sleep, and by doing so right after that confession, she tells me another truth. I was right. She trusts me. And I decide right then that I can’t change what I’ve done in the past, but beyond that, I will deserve her trust.
And yet, the demons in my own past promise me that won’t be good enough.
Chapter Twenty-One
ADRIAN
I fall asleep on my back with Pri naked and snuggled to my side, and wake to my pre-set alarm on my phone, the dim light of the lamp on the table above my head. Pri, all warm and sweet, is still pressed close, sound asleep. I shift us and grab my phone, turning off the alarm, and still, she sleeps, which tells