Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
‘This wasn’t your plan when you brought me here?’ she asks, nudging me out and kissing her way across my cheek until she’s at my mouth.
‘Part of it,’ I admit, catching her lips and indulging her for a second. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Alive.’ Her answer is somehow flippant, yet it is also somehow what I expected.
‘I don’t want that to be my only purpose.’ I fist her wet hair and pull her away from me, using my other hand to reach around my back and unhook her ankles. She slides down my body, both of us wincing when I slip free from her, detaching us completely. The confusion on her face is understandable. I don’t know how I managed to tear myself away, either. I take both her hands and kiss each before releasing and reversing, putting a good three feet of water between us. People say things in the heat of the moment, especially when they’re blinded by passion. I don’t want there to be any opportunity for a misunderstanding here.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asks, wrapping her arms around her naked torso protectively, her look of uncertainty paining me. ‘Did I do something? Say something?’
I laugh mildly, though it’s not in humor. She’s done and said many things. ‘I know how alive you are when we’re together,’ I say, resting my hand over my heart. ‘I feel it here.’ Her eyes fix on my chest where I’m touching. ‘The past that killed your spirit is of no consequence to us, Hannah.’ She closes her eyes, and I can see all too clearly that she’s talking herself down from turning and running. ‘Whatever it was that broke you can’t hurt you anymore,’ I vow, and she steps back in the water. ‘You can run,’ I tell her, though I beg her silently not to. ‘But you will be running away from a man who loves you with a power that’s crippling him.’
Impossibly huge, round eyes lift to mine. They’re brimming with tears, and her arms cuddle her body a little tighter.
‘I just want to love you, Hannah,’ I murmur. ‘And more than that, I want you to give me permission to.’ I reach for my nape and massage, feeling my apprehension reaching there. Will she run? Or will she stay? Right now, I don’t know. She’s clearly in a muddle, and I honestly have no clue what way this might swing. But I’ve started now. And I’ll finish. ‘And even more than that,’ I say quietly. ‘I want you to accept it.’ I take one step forward, like Here I am. Just take me. I’m all yours if you’ll only let yourself have me. ‘And if I’m really lucky,’ I add, shrinking the distance between us until I’m before her. ‘You’ll love me back,’ I whisper, wanting to touch her, to remind her of the unyielding connection we have. Yet I can’t influence her with the sexual chemistry. There is more than that between us. So much more.
Hannah remains a statue before me, her gaze low. The silence is agony, to the point I can’t endure it any longer. She needs space. She needs some time to think about what I’ve said. It kills me, but I have to let her have that time. And all I can do is hope that she’ll accept my love. And she’ll stay.
I step to the side and pass her, wading through the water to the shore, scrubbing a palm down my face as I go.
I hear the water splash before I feel her hand grab my wrist, and I stop, but I don’t look back. Will this be an It’s not you, it’s me speech? If so, I can’t look at her while she gives it. I can’t promise I’ll contain my temper. I can’t promise I won’t shout and yell at her for being so impenetrable. I close my eyes and wait. My world is in this woman’s hands.
She moves behind me, coming in close to my back and slipping her hands under my arms, hooking them up. Her cheek rests in the middle of my shoulder blades. ‘Love me,’ she says, turning a kiss onto my skin.
Fire shoots from that point to every nerve ending I have. That wasn’t permission. That was an order. I go to turn – I need to see her – but she locks down her hold, stopping me. ‘I don’t want to look at you when I tell you what I’m about to tell you,’ she says quietly. ‘I don’t want your sympathy. When I’m finished, you’ll face me and you will look at me like I need you to look at me. Not like you want to fix me. I’m working hard to do that myself. I don’t need a man for that.’ I feel her forehead rest into the middle of my back, and I lay my arms over hers, finding her hands and holding them on either side of my neck. ‘I want you to look at me like I am yours and nothing came before you.’