Chapter 68

"Ames, I"

Whirling, she grabbed the pint from him and strode inside.

He cursed and followed. "What did you mean by the ice cream would go to your...ass? What's wrong with it the way it is?"

As if she'd discuss her weight problem. He of the abs and gluts and biceps wouldn't understand. Mortification knew no bounds.

Keeping herself busy, she rinsed the spoon and set it in the sink, then capped the mint chip and put it in the freezer. Hands on his hips, he watched her every move.

The sanctity of her bedroom in mind, she walked out of the kitchen on shaking legs and was determined to get to the stairs before he leveled her again. The footsteps trailing her said he wasn't near done with this discussion.

"You were right, anim."

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Again, she halted on the bottom stair. Sighed. Struggled for guidance. She settled for turning to face him.

"This shift between us is physical. My body wants yours, and the magnetism is only getting stronger the longer we pretend it doesn't exist." Slowly, like he did everything else, he walked closer until he'd eaten half the distance with his long legs. "Accidentally walking in on you after your shower knocked me from in lust with those curves of yours to in love. The need is fierce. Is that what you want to hear?"

Her damp panties said yes. Her conscience yelled no. Wisely, her mouth kept mum.

"You're forgetting our friendship, though." He eyed her, jaw set. "My head and heart are a factor. We wouldn't be standing here otherwise. So no, this isn't just physical. And I don't get intimate without some kind of connection. I'm not wired that way."

At a loss, she bit her lip and looked at him. Really looked. It seemed he was taking some kind of stand, and the fact she was it rendered her mute.

All her life, she'd wanted this very thing. Acceptance. Notice. Someone to fight for her. She'd never gotten it. Not from her parents, who wanted a son and birthed a daughter instead. Had she been a boy, Kyle wouldn't have been conceived. They'd spent her entire childhood and teen years pointing out her faults, tossing bible verses at her, and skimming over her with contempt. She got the impression Kyle had stuck with her out of duty. None of her lovers, nor her ex-husband, had bothered to try. After all, she was disposable. A one-time use cluster of tissue and bones.

Aunt Mae, Olivia, and Nakos had been the exception. Yet, even with them, she often felt the odd one out. Like perhaps her remaining in their world stemmed from habit more than desire.

She'd learned to put up a great front and pretend she didn't need a warrior, that she could slay her own monsters, but the truth was in her failures. She was a walking, talking, breathing lie contrived of desperation and loneliness. And if Nakos kept this up, he'd be dragged into her pain vault with no hope of escape. That was her gift.

His dark eyes bore into hers, pleading, seeking, framed by long lashes that tended to flutter when emotional. The hard set of his jaw and thin lips bespoke his aggravation. Yet his stance remained open, relaxed, like he was simply waiting for her to come around. Change her mind and leap into his arms. Forget all the why-nots and press up against him.

Finally, his brow furrowed as if he'd reached a conclusion or snapped a piece into place. "You always make me nervous." The slight tilt of his head and unsure tone indicated he was trying the sentence on for size.

She reared. Blinked. "What? We've known each other since"

"We were nine. Yeah, I know." He shook his head in disbelief. "Still, you do. You make me nervous. I felt it the first time I saw you on that tire swing as a kid. It got stronger in our teens and it's constant now." He let out a quick exhale. "There's this...flutter in my gut whenever you walk into a room or I catch you out of the corner of my eye in passing or even if someone mentions your name."

He stepped forward two paces and stopped. "There's almost no one I'm more comfortable around than you. Especially considering our open dialog. But there you have it. All these years between us and you can still make me nervous." His hand raised to adjust his hat in a common gesture, but he must've realized he'd taken it off and ran his fingers through the ponytail at his nape instead. "Hihcebe," he muttered. "It's been there all along."

His gaze flicked to hers and held. Midnight torment and dark passion. "It's been there all along," he firmly repeated. "Maybe I wasn't ready to acknowledge the sensation or perhaps, deep down, I knew this was significant. My bet is it took me this long because you tend to steamroll me with your witty comebacks and I can't ever think clearly."

He straightened suddenly and huffed. "But you're not speaking now, are you? You've been uncharacteristically quiet."

What the heck was she supposed to say? If she was reading him correctly, he'd just claimed an attraction had been present forever. Which couldn't be true.

Irrational happiness shuffled her synapses around and tried to take root. But she stomped that crap dead. Even if she trusted the emotion, it didn't matter. She would nevercould neverbe with him. She loved him too much, for too many years, to ever assume the day would come she deserved him.

"Say something, anim."

Angel. How she wished he'd stop calling her that. It only made the guilt churn harder and her hope refuse to go quietly into the good night where it belonged. Out of reach.

She rubbed her forehead. "I think I should've cut you off after the first beer."

Up went his brows. He huffed a rough laugh. "I only had one and didn't finish it. Try again."

To think, she'd gotten turned on by Alpha Nakos not two weeks ago. He was very dangerous when this side came out to play.

Fine. Abort, then. She turned on her heel and...made it nowhere. Fast.

One-hundred and ninety pounds of hot, hard male pressed against every inch of her from behind. He wrapped a solid arm around her waist, another banding her chest, and held her to him. His lips caressed the shell of her ear, his breath warm, and a full-body tremble tore through her. That amazing scent of outdoors and denim and earth she associated with him enveloped her at the same moment a strange sense of safety nailed her midsection.

She whimpered. Sweet baby Jesus in the manger. She used to chastise women who thought with their girly bits, letting lust rule over common sense. Having never experienced it herself, she'd assumed she was incapable and better off for it. But this carnal heat and sweet ache was addicting. Ten seconds, and she was already in need of rehab.

Turning her around, he backed her to the entry hall, palms planted beside her shoulders. He took a leisurely, drawn-out perusal of her face and nodded. "That's what I thought."

And, God save her. He aligned their bodies again by leaning in, this time from the front, and two toned biceps straining against the seams of his t-shirt caged her face. The cut muscle of his torso held her in place and her head thunked the wall.

"Your heart is pounding against my chest, your breathing is labored, and your mermaid eyes are dialed to gone, baby, gone. You want me, and I'm going mad with wanting you." He brushed his nose to hers and dipped his chin. His lips grazed her throat, and she trembled. Again. Or still. "I don't know what's going on in that gorgeous head of yours or what excuses you've compiled, but I'm done tiptoeing around. If it takes me until we're eighty and in side-by-side rocking chairs, I'm going to wear you down."

While her pulse went spastic, he looked at her, his lips hovering millimeters from hers. Watching her, he grabbed her thigh and brought her leg around his waist, then thrust into her. She gasped as his hard length ground against her core, and even through their jeans, it was better than any contact she'd had with anyone else.

He groaned, long and loud. "That's what you do to me. At night while I try to sleep, during work, driving my truck, riding the horses, or making a damn sandwich in my kitchen. One thought of you, one whiff of your lingering perfume, and that's all it takes, anim."

His heavy gaze darted between her eyes, and the only thing keeping her upright was being trapped between the wall and a...hard place. Her brain cells went poof. Her breasts ached. Her core wept. Her organs puddled to goo. And he just stared, calm and controlled on the surface, but he pulsed as if the animal inside needed escape.

Another groan, and his mouth crashed against hers. He pried her lips apart with his and his tongue drove inside. Stroking. Swirling. Coaxing. Dominating. The patient side of his personality eked through with the unhurried caress and exploration, but his body was another matter. A contradiction. Shallow grinding and rigid muscles and ragged inhalations through his nose.

Putty. He'd turned her into putty.

Nipping her lower lip, he lifted his head, his sleepy gaze settling on hers once more. Ten distinct fingertips gripped her backside, dug in, and retracted, only to have his palms cup her in their place. "Oh yeah. Prepare yourself. Tomorrow, it's on."