Sound of Silence(44)

But first I'm going to wipe that grin off her face and make her scream.

My initial pillow strike misses as she lobs to the left. The second hits her square over the head. Her eyes flare and then narrow, and I can tell the minute tactical thought gives way to a frantic need to conquer her target. She misses a lyric and attacks in reckless swings. I'm trained in the art of war and in a minute, I chase her over the bed and to the other side of the room with quick snaps to the backs of her thighs and a crack to her ass. 

She twirls with indignation, gripping her backside, and I drop my weapon. With one arm around her waist, the other on her nape, I haul her against my chest and slam my mouth on hers.

Sweet Jesus, she kisses me without hesitation, sucking my tongue into her mouth on a groan. We go deep, long open licks I use to punish her for singing that fucking song. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to pin her against the wall, peel off her shorts, and fuck her into an apology. I'll save that for later.

I tap her ass and help to wrap her legs around my waist, and it's the best, most natural place for her to be. When she wiggles into position, she slides down against my straining dick and I almost shoot my load. I moan and tug her hair, peeling her away to find her flushed skin, watching her lowered lids flutter against her cheeks as I rub the throbbing head of my cock against her pussy through fine layers of cotton.

"Caden?" Her voice is as erratic as the pulse pounding in her neck, and full of vulnerability, uncertainty, and dammit, I can't do it. Not until she's in the same place I am.

I press my mouth to her forehead and back us up to the plush chair in her room, keeping her legs on either side of my hips as we sit. "It's okay, sunshine. I've got you. I will always have you."

She pulls back with my face cradled in her hands, her brow pulled in a deep V. "Why are you stopping?"

"Because I promised I would."

Her chest hitches, but before I can tell if she's crying she buries her nose in my neck and plasters herself impossibly close to me. I feel everything. Every part of her, the tight peak of her nipples, the soft swell of her swollen breasts, and the fierce grip of her arms around my head as if the thought of ever being apart is as disturbing to her as it is to me. But I just hold her and let our pulses slow into the same pattern while dragging my fingers up and down her spine.

That's when I find them. Little nubs in the dimples of her back that I circle with my thumbs, piercings number two and three.

I press my smile into her forehead. "Tell me what you're afraid of, sunshine."

She sighs, her warm breath fanning against my skin as she rakes her fingers through my hair, longer since I haven't had it cut in the months I've been home. "I don't know if I can do this again."

"You're what? Twenty-four, twenty-five? Sex is in your future, babe. And we may not be naked, but I can smell your arousal, so I know you want it. Aw, fuck." I grab her hand as she twists my nipple. "Damn, woman."

She laughs and sits up. I narrow my eyes and reach to retaliate, but she's quick to palm her tits. "Truce, please, truce," she squeals, laughing as I try to pry open a spot to grab.

This woman, with her rainbow-tipped waves and dark eyes twinkling as clear as the stars in the desert sky, has a body built for sin and a history hard enough to break a soldier. But she's light-a beacon in my darkness.

And that's why my heart's a goner.

I draw in a quick breath. The rise of my chest draws her attention to it, and with the tip of her finger, she traces my tattoos. I'm not falling for the distraction. "Give me your truth, Piper."

Sighing, she asks, "Are you going back?"

Be honest, Lawless. Justin. Christ. In a second, I become hands off, my arms spread out on the chair. The words truth and trust war in my brain. I swallow temptation and tip my head back to stare at the crisp white ceiling, ignoring the lie poised on the tip of my tongue. No.

"The possibility you will is what scares me the most. I don't know if I can do it again-the waiting, not knowing, fearing the knock on the door."



       
         
       
        

Her voice is so soft, so vulnerable it kicks up the desert dust stored in my lungs, and I struggle not to sound desperate or choked up. "I could get hit by a car tomorrow, fall off the cliff I've hiked a hundred times." I adjust to find her eyes just as my fingers find her chin to hold her in place. "So could you, for that matter, but I won't dwell on possibilities. We don't come with guarantees or a lifetime warranty. God has a plan. I have to trust in it."