Page 77 of Saxon

"Not happening. Look at me."

A head shake. She ain’t a feather, but I can and will stand here holding her all damn day if I have to.

I nuzzle her ear. "Scares me too," I whisper. "What we just shared scares the fucking hell outta me."

"Don't lie to me, dammit," she hisses.

"I'm not. Look at me—look into my eyes. You'll fuckin' see."

Another head shake, this one less convincing. The tension in her muscles is loosening.

"Breathe, darlin'." I kiss her temple, an instinct to comfort taking over. "I'm here. I've got you. I'm not letting go. I'm right fuckin' here, Terra, and I’m not going anywhere."

"Don't fuck with me, Saxon." A barely audible breath, laden with a desperate whisper.

"Then fuckin' look at me, goddammit." I touch her cheek with a fingertip, tracing her cheekbone, her jawline. "You feel me, Terra? Feel that I'm still here?"

She rolls toward me, peeking up at me with one eye, face covered with her hands. She must see something she likes, because she springs open and wraps her arms and legs around me, clinging as desperately to me as she was turtling inward just a moment ago.

"Good, honey. That's good. Hold onto me. I'm here. I'm here."

She shudders. "Don't you dare be playing me, Saxon."

"I could say the same."

She's clinging to me for dear life, but the shaking is subsiding. Her arms constrict around my neck like warm smooth pythons, fingers digging into my shoulders. Her legs are hooked around my waist, sex smashed against my belly, breasts crushed against my chest.

I'm aware of these things, and not in a clinical way. I'm hyperaware of them. But my only focus is her—her mindset, her emotions.

Her nose and lips press into the side of my throat. I even feel her eyelashes moving, damp with tears.

"Saxon, I…" she shudders, trailing off.

"Talk to me, honey." I've never used such terms with any woman, ever, except perhaps calling a woman “darlin’” in a generic sort of way, never as a true term of endearment. I'm honestly not where it's coming from, other than pure instinct.

"I just…" a tight, small shrug. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Freaking out. I…I ruined the moment, and I…"

She's clinging to me so tightly I can let go and nudge her face away enough to touch my lips to hers. "Shut the fuck up with sorry, woman. Shit. Didn't ruin anything."

A hiccupping laugh. "I just…it was…"

"So fucking intense it's more than a little terrifying? Yeah, for me too."

She turns her turquoise eyes to mine, finally. "It scared you too?"

"Feel my heart, babe."

She presses two fingers to my pulse, which is still racing because I've been so focused on her that I haven't even looked at my own feelings, yet.

"That's just because you're standing around holding my fat ass."

"Bullshit. I could climb a goddamn mountain carrying you and your beautiful, perfect ass."

"My ass is a little fat. I'm okay with it. I've come to accept it."