Page 65 of Burn the World Down

“Good.” I waved at my face. “Look, you can barely see the bruises.”

“Ribs?” He reached for me, his hands spanning my rib cage. At his touch, I swallowed a moan.

“They feel fine.”

“Good, because you have training today.”

“Training?” I blinked. “At the range?” We’d been to the shooting range every day and I was pretty darn proud of how much my shooting had improved.

“Not today. Today, we’ll be doing hand-to-hand. I want to show you some basic skills, so you don’t get cornered. And so you can take down a bigger opponent.”

That sounded good. “Okay.”

He squeezed me, then let me go.

When I shifted on my feet, his eyebrow arched. “Something else?”

Life was too short. Everything that had happened had taught me that. “I want to touch you.”

There was a flash in his blue eyes. “You’re not ready yet.”

I lifted my chin. “I’m healed.”

He stared at me, and I realized his body was so tense. I blinked.Oh God. I stared at the taut muscles in his neck, at the way his abs were clenched. He was holding himself back.

And it wasn’t easy for him.

I felt flush with power. I pressed my hands to his chest and felt his muscles flex.

“You like when I touch you,” I murmured.

He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah.” His voice was low and gritty.

This man—one I’d dreamed and fantasized about for so long—wanted me. He’d stood up for me when no one else had.

I spread my fingers over his bronze skin and kneaded. Explored. One finger circled his nipple and I watched it tighten.

His chest hitched and I felt a flood of damp between my legs. When I looked down, I could see the bulge of his cock behind the denim.

I stepped closer and pressed a kiss to his pec. My hand drifted lower, my fingers running over the ridges of his abs.

“Georgie…”

“Mmm.” I licked his skin. God, he smelled good. Male, a woody undertone with a citrus-fresh scent on top.

I bit him and he groaned.

God, I’d wanted him when I was a young woman, but I couldn’t comprehend the depth of my desire now. Body shaking a little, I let my hands move lower to the button of his jeans. The denim was stretched over a now-impressive erection.

“No.” He caught my wrist.

My stomach fell. “Nash?—”

“Not yet, sweetheart. But soon.”

A small, needy sound escaped me. He gripped my jaw and forced me to meet his gaze. “You wet?”

Everything inside me clenched. “Yes.”