Hardwired(39)

I swallowed hard, wishing I could believe him. “I’m simply stating the obvious. It doesn’t make sense for you to want to be with someone like me anyway. You should be dating socialites, models, not someone like...me.” My voice caught as the words left me.

“I’m not interested in dating models.”

“Well, that makes no fucking sense, you realize that? I’m a mess. I mean, just look at me.”

“I do. Frequently, in fact. You’ve been driving me crazy for days. I can barely sleep at night.”

“And now?”

“Now, I have you. No roommates, no crowds, and you’re trying to come up with every reason to scare me off. If you think this changes things, you’re wrong.”

I looked away, helplessly fighting the tears that just kept coming. When he sat next to me and pulled me onto his lap, I went willingly, wanting to feel him close again. How he could still want me, I would never know. He wrapped me tight in his arms, cocooning me to his chest until the sobs slowed and my tears ran dry.

“You’re stunning,” he said.

Nuzzled into his shoulder, I shook my head. “How can you say that after what I just told you?”

“Because it’s true. Erica, one horrible experience doesn’t define you. If it did, I doubt you’d want to be with me either.”

“I do,” I said.

My hand slid over his shirt to feel his heart beating a slow and steady rhythm. I knew nothing about his heart but something inside of me wanted to deserve it then. What would it be like to have his desire, and his love? Suddenly my feelings for Blake began to overwhelm the painful the memories he’d coaxed out of me moments earlier.

He lifted my hand and brushed his lips softly over my fingertips. Inch by inch, he caressed me, claiming every expanse of bare skin with a quiet tenderness I’d never known, healing me with his hands and lips. The pain and the numbness gave way to relief, and then, to a familiar warmth that simmered below the surface.

I tugged at his hair and tipped his head back for an urgent kiss. Somehow, he’d broken through, overwhelming my senses with the pressing need to be possessed. His smell, his taste, and his primal hunger—I craved them all. I explored the depths of his mouth with my tongue, tangling with his, ravenous for him. He met me with equal intensity. He shifted me so I straddled him, crushing our bodies together so they were flush. A soft cry escaped my lips at the sudden contact and the fervency of his movements. Then he stopped, fisting his hands to his sides.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m wound too tight, Erica.” His head fell back on the couch and he swallowed, the notch in his throat moving with the action.

I wanted to kiss him there, but I needed to figure out where his head was first. “So what?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and his body tensed beneath my touch.

“Touch me,” I begged. I fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, unable to wait any longer for his skin on mine. Running my fingers over his chest, I leaned in to taste his throat, relishing his scent and the saltiness of his skin.

“Wait,” he said through clenched teeth.

I pulled back obediently. “Why?”

My heart sank and the sadness crept back as the silence grew between us. After everything I’d shared with him tonight, I’d been foolish to think that we could go on like nothing had happened.

I searched his eyes. A flicker of emotion passed over his features before he looked away. Was it fear?

“I want you, Blake.” God, did I ever. I shifted, unable to ignore the uncomfortable ache between my thighs.

“I want you too. I’ll probably lose my mind if I can’t be inside you tonight.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “I just don’t want to…freak you out.”

“I’m not a china doll. I promise you won’t hurt me.”

He closed his eyes again, his hands unmoving on either side of us, as if he could block out the temptation to touch me that way.

Appreciating every hard ripple of his abdomen, I trailed my fingers down his chest, following the soft hairs along that disappeared under the band of his pants. I reached for the clasp, but before I could release him, Blake caught my wrists, holding them steady while he breathed hard.

“I want to feel you lose control, Blake.” My body pulsed, my self-control hanging on by a thread. I wanted nothing more than for him to take me the way he wanted to, the way I needed him to.

He caught me by the waist and stood, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around him as he walked us to his bedroom, which was dimly lit by two wall sconces, the near darkness enveloping me like the warmth of his body.

He shut the door behind us and pinned me to it with a growl. I took in a sharp breath when my back hit the hard wood of the door. I bit my lip and tightened around him, wanting everything he could give me. The thin straps of my dress fell down my shoulders, a welcome invitation for Blake to release my breasts one by one, taunting each peak with his tongue and then his teeth. The sharp edge of the sensation cut through me. I whimpered his name, begging for more.