Page 47 of Anchor
“What?” she asks, smiling back at me.
“Just remembering you protecting me with a gun. For someone so little you’re pretty damn formidable.”
“I’m not little,” she says. “You’re just huge.”
Having her so close is doing ridiculous things to my body. I’d turned off all the lights to go to sleep so the lack of light is intensifying all of my other senses. I can smell the plain soap she must have used in the shower, which only serves to make my imagination run wild.
I gulp down air and try to refocus on the conversation. “What do you want to know?” I ask to get my brain to focus on something, anything, other than how she feels against me.
“Everything,” she says.
* * *
In the hazylight of morning, I wake to find myself wrapped around a beautiful woman, slightly confused as to how I got there. I have one arm cradled underneath her head and the other slung around her waist so she’s pressed against me in all the right places. And I meanall the right places.Her breath fans across the sensitive skin along my neck.
It takes a while for me to remember what happened and how she got into bed with me and then the previous night comes to me. We’d lain in the bed together for hours, just talking. It’s been a long time since I had a woman in bed for a reason other than getting naked with her.
As I shift to put a little room between us, despite every instinct telling me not to, she makes a sound of protest and moves closer. She throws one of her thighs over my hip and—hand to God—I don’t intend to kiss her again—at least not until we’d at least gone on an official date, but I do.
Her lips are unbelievably, exquisitely soft. A growl rumbles in my chest and her hand rises to press against it, hesitantly at first as she rouses. I watch as her eyes flutter open and catch mine. As they widen in surprise and then dilate with desire, my muscles steel with triumph.
I use the arm around her waist to my advantage, leveraging her weight until she’s pressed as close as she can be. We both groan in unison at the sensitive contact, the simple touch reigniting the spark between us I’ve been trying so hard to ignore. The pain from my wounds is nonexistent. In its place is pure pleasure.
Her mouth opens and I cup her face with my hands, guiding her movements in tandem with mine. I touch, and taste, and go a little crazy with her kiss. Her fingers clutch at my shoulders as she does everything that she can to practically bind herself to me.
Desire flares white-hot between us and when I’m about to flip her to her back and show her how much I need her, she devastates me by breaking the kiss and sliding her lips along my jaw to my ear. She exhales an unsteady breath and nibbles at the sensitive skin there. My mind blanks and narrows to the simple, but effective point of contact.
How or why doesn’t matter. What matters is the breathless way she whispers my name when I knot her hair in my hand to plunder her mouth. What matters is the way her heart stutters in her chest when I trail my lips on a path down her neck to the pink-splotched skin revealed by the thin hospital blanket.
I bring my lips back to her ear as my hand ghosts along her neckline. “Do you want me to stop, baby?” The question burns me when I ask; the last thing I want to do is stop. But even worse than that would be making a move she isn’t ready for. I’ve got all the time in the world, I can wait. It’ll probably kill me, but I can try.
She answers by plunging her hands into my hair and pulling my mouth back to hers. I respond by covering her body with my own. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I’m moving too fast, doing too much, but she simply cradles me between her thighs, pulling me closer to her warmth. There’s a twinge from my stitches, but I push that to the back of my mind.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman I cared about—probably too long if I’m being honest. After my horrific divorce, relationships weren’t high on my list of priorities. Maybe I was waiting for someone like Chloe. Someone soft and a little sweet, too idealistic for this shitty world, but at the same time, determined in her own right.
Her hands trail along my chest, and no fucking joke, my breath catches in my throat at the hesitant touch of her fingers against my skin. I feel like a goddamned teenager necking in the living room and realize I must immediately shift the balance of power before I completely lose control.
Chloe
I awaken to the warm, comforting feeling of being surrounded by a pair of strong arms. The scent he wears—whatever it is—is like an aphrodisiac. I can’t get close enough. Then his lips are on mine and I forget everything but how it feels to fall.
The world around us fades like a watercolor. The only sensations I’m aware of are the press of his lips against mine, the stubble on his jaw as it scrapes a line down my throat and the sound of the growl in his chest as our bodies press together.
I have to taste more of him so I break the kiss to nibble my way up to his ear and his body vibrates against me. I press my lips to the curve of his neck and inhale deeply. I’m certain then, as sure as I am of my own name, that I will never forget his scent. I’ll be rolling down an aisle at the grocery store and catch the slightest whiff of his cologne and be immediately transported back to this moment.
His mouth travels down my body and then he pauses to ask if this is okay. My only answer is bringing his lips back to mine.
I don’t know how long we lie there, getting to know one another, learning each other’s bodies and responses. We could stay here forever and I wouldn’t give a damn.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt wanted like this. No,needed. When was the last time a man held on to me like he couldn’t let go? I wrap my arms around him and plunge my fingers into his hair, suddenly frantic at the thought of losing this feeling.
He pulls back to break the contact and sits up. I blink blearily up at him. His face appears haloed in a beam of early morning sunlight dappling through the window. I thank God for sunlight because it allows me to see every blessed, beautiful inch of him without the need to rush.
“What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?” I ask.
“Nothin’.” He wraps an arm around my legs and pulls me flat along the bed. Then he spreads out alongside me, tucking my body into his.
“What are you doing?”