Page 135 of The Maddest Obsession (Made 2)

I shivered as icy rain trickled into my dress. The heat from his body touched my skin, as if I stood at the edges of a fire. I wanted to step closer, the fear I’d get b

urned pushed further and further away.

His thumb brushed my cheek. “I promise, I won’t ever say anything like that to you again.”

I sighed. “It’s more than that, Christian, and you know it.”

“We’ll figure the rest out. But I’m not letting you go.” His jaw clenched, eyes fierce. “I can’t.”

He meant what he said.

At least, for now.

A part of me knew this couldn’t end well.

But the urge to give in, to close the distance between us, to feel him against me, ached. It tore at every cell in my body, leaving something desperate behind. The idea of walking away, back to the cold, colorless life I’d lived before him made me feel sick.

A tear escaped, and he brushed it away with a thumb.

“I don’t know what biocoenosis is,” I said softly.

“You’re not missing out.”

“I can’t have intellectually stimulating conversations with you.”

“I was bored out of my mind.”

Last-ditch effort to save myself.

“There are plenty of women who could make you happier, Christian.”

“You’re the only one I want.”

Our eyes held each other’s, some thick and unknown feeling brewing between us. Consuming, like panic, and heavy, like need.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. “Moya zvezdochka.”

“I think I’m getting the flu,” I breathed.

Once he realized I’d given in, he made a noise of satisfaction and kissed me deeply, slipping his tongue into my mouth.

I sighed and shivered.

Pulling back, he slipped his jacket off and put it on my shoulders. A memory came back, of the last time he’d done the same thing. The night he’d taken me to Ace’s after the shooting five years ago.

I didn’t know how I’d gotten here.

Walking down the sidewalk with this dirty fed’s jacket on my shoulders and his hand in mine.

But now I wondered just where I’d be if he had never been around.

I WAS SOAKING WET AND shivering when we got back to his apartment. He tugged me inside to the bathroom, where he undressed me down to the heels on my feet. The air sat heavy with some unnamed emotion between us, and somehow, both of us knew, saying a word would only congest it further.

Love might have been an annoying, elusive word I’d never understand, but I knew right then and there, I loved the feel of his hands on me, the complete attention he gave me as he washed my body and hair, as if I was the only woman he’d ever seen. As if I was perfect.

He slipped one of his undershirts over my head and then took me to bed, wrapping his arm around my waist. My limbs and eyes felt heavy with sleep, but the night had provoked a desperate need to feel him inside me. I shifted back against his erection, knowing he’d been hard before we even got in the shower.

He let out a tense breath, then grabbed my hip and stopped me.