Then she started to move against him and Gabe strived for control even as coherent thought fled and sensation engulfed him. Every lift of her hips off his cock was a slow, painful death, and he felt the loss of her warmth in even the darkest pit of his soul. Every languorous slide down was his salvation.
Control. Yeah, right. With her, it was nothing but a pretty illusion, and he was already lost. In her eyes. In her body. In her soul. He’d never had any control when it came to her.
Then it was over, the aftermath as crushingly silent as the joining had been sudden and intense, leaving them twined together, boneless and gasping, his face buried in the crook of her neck, her cheek resting on top of his head. He could hear her pulse thundering, matching his beat for beat, and closed his eyes.
Yep, he was raw again. As much as he enjoyed sex with Audrey—and, God, did he ever enjoy it, enjoy her—he did not like the way he felt right now. Like a throbbing, open wound. If she wanted, she could easily pour salt into him and scar him for life. And he had enough scars, thanks.
It was too much.
“Promise me you’ll come back safe,” she whispered against his hair.
He refused to open his eyes, afraid of what he might see in her face, but even more afraid of what she would see in his. “I’ll do my best.”
“No. You promise me, Gabriel. I love you, and I can’t lose you.”
All right. He’d known this conversation was coming. He could handle this, tell her like it is. Despite the cold, hollow ache that flash froze into a lump of ice in his chest.
“Audrey.” He touched her cheek and waited until she met his gaze with red-rimmed eyes. “You don’t love me. We’ve been through hell, and in order to survive, we’ve had to rely on each other in ways most never have to rely on another person. It’s natural to feel the way you do now, but it’s not love. Believe me. I’ve been here before.”
Christ, he hoped that little speech hadn’t sounded as canned and phony to her as it had to his own ears.
But she seemed to believe him. The hurt of it shone in her eyes. “So you always sleep with the women you help?”
No, you were the first. The only. You were…so much more.
Ha. Like he’d say that little gem of a thought aloud and kibosh his whole argument. Sure, she was special to him, and he had a feeling she always would be, but what he felt didn’t matter. A month, six months, a year from now, when the fear and adrenaline faded to nothing but bad memories, she wouldn’t feel the same about him anymore. He just knew it. If he hung around, if he let her continue thinking she was in love, it’d put them both in an awkward place when she realized she wasn’t. Better to extract himself now, before they reached that point.
Jesus, he never should have let things go this far between them to begin with, never should have allowed himself to give in to how much he wanted her.
“Sometimes,” he said slowly, searching for the right words to let her down easy without crushing all that wild spirit he admired so much. “Sometimes when you face a deadly situation, the natural reaction is to want to experience life. Sex is one of the good parts of life.”
Scoffing, she shoved him. Not hard, but enough that he knew she was seriously pissed. She stood, giving him her back, and he thought—hoped—maybe she’d see the logic and let it go without a fight. Then she whirled to face him and—surprise!—indomitable woman that she was, she called him out.
“You are such a jerk.” She jabbed a finger at his nose. “This between us is more than sex and we both know it. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, so you can’t tell me—”
“It’ll fade.”
She shook her head. “No. I know myself better than that. Why are you trying to push me away?”
That was the question. The more he talked, the less he believed his own bull. God help him, he wanted her even though it made him feel so exposed. Maybe he loved her, he didn’t know. Never had any experience with the emotion to know if that’s what all the roiling, turbulent feelings of admiration, joy, fear, and lust meant. Even if it was love—not that he was ready to cop to that yet—but hypothetically, even if it was, they couldn’t…He couldn’t…
This was all too much. She was too much. And he was not nearly enough for her.
Okay, his thoughts were rambling, not making a whole hell of a lot of sense even to him. He rubbed the center of his forehead and then did something he’d never done before in his entire thirty-three years of life: he stood, pulled up his pants, grabbed his shirt, and chickened out.
“Audrey, I have to go.”