The Man I Want to Be (Under Covers)(33)

"Hmm," she mused. "I'm not very concerned with this." She lightly grazed the outer edge of his ear.

"Yeah, fuck it. I've got a spare."

"And your nose." She ran her finger down the bridge, watching his eyes heat. "I don't really need that, either."

He tossed the crab in the general direction of the water and stepped  closer so their chests touched. "What do you need then? Tell me."

She reached for his waistband and hooked her hand inside. "I think you can guess."

"Yeah, but you know I like to hear-" He froze. Then his eyes opened wide. His smile dropped.

"What?" she asked, taken back by his sudden change. "What is it?"

"Motherfucker!" He leaped away, shaking his ankle like it was on fire.

"What? Bryan, what happened?"

"The little fucker bit me!" he yelled, dancing around on one foot.  "Shit! It's biting me! The fucking thing is still attached with his good  claw!"

She laughed. She couldn't help it. It bubbled up, and there wasn't any  stopping it. He, of course, didn't care for that reaction. When he'd  finally shaken the thing off, he whirled on her with narrowed eyes.

"You think that's funny?" He stalked toward her. One step. Two. Then  three. "I'm probably bleeding out right now, and you're laughing."

"Oh, please," she said, backing up. "I thought you said sand crabs don't kill people."

"They don't." More steps toward her. "But accidents happen."

"True. But I think you'll survive." She retreated more, her heart  starting up into a jog. She was enjoying this little cat-and-mouse game  of theirs.

"Maybe."

She stumbled but righted herself before she went down. He swiped a hand  out toward her, but she spun around and started running. Her heart  kicked into a full-out sprint, matching the pace of her feet, pumping  excitement through her veins, which helped propel her forward.

He caught up to her after a few seconds. His arms came around her,  pulling her back against his chest. She squealed and tried to break  free-not that she wanted to. Being in Bryan's arms was the one and only  place she'd ever wanted to be. But she put up a small struggle anyway.

"Stop," she said, wanting him to do just the opposite. "Your shoulder's still hurt."

"Screw my shoulder."

His large palm coasted down her front, stopping at the zipper on her  shorts. The other arm braced around her stomach like a steel band. He  must've dropped the flashlight at some point during the pursuit because a  faint line of light shown behind her in the sand.

"I told you. You can't outrun me," he said into her ear. "I'll always catch you."

"I know," she said.

"So you wanted me to?" His tone suggested he was pleased with that knowledge.

"Maybe."

He made a thoughtful sound that reverberated against her back. "I think  you like what happens after I catch you. That's why you do it."

"Maybe," she said again, knowing full well she absolutely loved what happened after.

He must have known it, too, because she felt a tug at her shorts before  her button and zipper were open and his hand was inside. He cupped her  over her underwear, and she instantly melted against him. His hot mouth  was at her ear, his hard body behind her, sending her pulse into a  rhythm she'd forgotten it played. It was joy. Anticipation. This man  completely owned her.

"Kenna," he said, with a purr of approval. "Ready for me again already?"  The pad of one finger buried itself against the spot he could always  find in the dark. The one that controlled all her responses-her body and  her words. "How long, Kenna? How long have you been wet for me?"

She mumbled her response.

"Louder," he commanded.

"Right after we finished the last time, okay?" she said. "I wanted you back inside immediately after."         

     



 

Another sound of approval that ramped her eagerness for him to  unbearable levels. "How long do you think I should make you wait?"

"You shouldn't." She placed a hand over his, urging him to apply more pressure. She was ready, and she wanted this. Wanted him.

"I'm going to," he said, stepping back and releasing her.

Her body wilted, and her heart dropped. That familiar feeling of loss  suffused her body, but before it could swallow her completely, Bear  turned her around to face him.

Gazing down at her with the moon casting enough glow for her to see his  hesitant expression, he said, "I don't wanna fuck tonight, Kenna."

She glanced away as her shoulders plummeted. Yeah, she'd already figured that.

His finger urged her chin up so she'd look at him. Once she did, he  said, "I still want you. More than you probably realize. But I want you  in a way that means more. I want you in a way that makes me want to take  my time and savor this moment. Savor you. I told you before, it can't  ever be like it was. When this week is over … " He paused and swallowed,  looking more unsure than she'd ever seen him. "When we leave here,  that's it for us. You understand?"

She nodded, even if it wasn't the answer she wanted. She did it to urge him on. To find out what he was getting at.

"When I said I don't want to fuck," he went on, "I meant I want to take  it slow and love you the way you deserve. The way I should have when we  were younger. When I didn't know what I had to lose. If this is the last  chance we get, I want to do it right."

Love? Did he just say love?

Before she could ponder that thought too long, he placed his palm on her  cheek, his thumb moving across her skin in slow, gentle circles. His  look was so sweet, so genuine, he could've told her anything in that  moment, and she would've gone along with it.

And if tonight was all they had to get it right-to undo all the pain  they'd endured over the last however many years, then she'd take it. She  wanted him any way she could get him. Even if it was for one more  night.

"Bear," she said.

His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck, where he held  tight and lowered his forehead to hers. His eyes squeezed shut like he  was trying to either ward off a painful memory or savor it. "Kenna."

"Yes," she said. "Yes. Please, Bear."

He opened his eyes, and the hopeful look he shot her nearly tore her in  two. His lips came down on hers for a brief moment. Touching quickly as  if to test the boundaries. Just like he'd done when they were kids. A  nervous boy who knew what he wanted but didn't know how to ask for it.

Much like back then, she knew exactly how to get what she wanted.

Kenna pulled his face down, holding his mouth on hers. She opened  immediately, feeling that sudden rush the second his tongue swept in and  met hers. This wasn't a kiss of need or simple attraction. No, this was  a kiss to end all kisses. It signified understanding and forgiveness.  The past, present, and future all in one. They wouldn't ever share this  moment again, and they both knew it. There was nothing to win and  nothing to lose. Nothing but the here and now. The two of them and the  few final moments they had left together.

Bear's hand coasted down to her backside to cup her, and in one fluid  motion, he lifted her so she could wrap her arms and legs around him. He  walked back to the forgotten flashlight, never breaking the kiss. Kenna  held onto him as if he might evaporate at any second. If she could hold  tight enough, maybe this time he wouldn't have to leave. He'd stay  forever.

He wrapped a solid arm around her as he bent, reaching for something in  the sand. After a few seconds, he lowered them, placing her back on the  ground. The soft cotton of the blanket he'd brought brushed against the  backs of her legs and feet.

Bryan positioned both hands on either side of her head, staring down at  her. His eyes glittered and mouth slightly upturned. He covered her with  his body, the familiar feeling of safety and home rushing back in an  instant. This was where she belonged. With him and only him. He kissed  her again-her mouth, cheek, neck.

"I used to dream about this," he said. "Having you out in the open, under the stars. It was the only place we never explored."

"Good thing we're checking it off the list now then."

He chuckled. The hearty sound sending tremors through her that only  served to heighten her desire. He moved down her body, kissing her  chest, and then descending to her stomach. He lifted her shirt and  placed his lips on the skin at her side. Then her other side. Then right  above her shorts, making her writhe slightly. Slowly, her shirt crept  up her stomach, past her bra, where she lifted her arms and head to let  him take it off. She reached for his T-shirt, mimicking his movements,  and divested him of the useless scrap of fabric. Her hands immediately  went to his chest. The hard muscles that flexed with each movement. She  trailed her fingers across his abs, enjoying the defined surface of  peaks and valleys. He was strong and yet gentle. Slow and yet fast. All  man, but still very much the boy she'd remembered. Everything was the  same between them and yet it felt brand new, too.