Page 139 of Shattered Veil

James let out a single chuckle. “Bullshit, you look exhausted.”

Smiling at the sound, I replied, “Okay, fine. You’re right. I’m tired.”

“Knew it. So, why are ya sitting up in bed, then?” He jokingly ventured, “Is the bruising on my face too hideous? Ya don’t want to sleep with the beat-up man? I see how it is.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh my God.”

More seriously, he questioned, “Why aren’t you sleeping, Darlin’?”

He was so obviously tired that I probably could have lied. His insistence, combined with his so well-spoken Darlin’ weakened my will to the point that I considered the truth, though…and I couldn’t withhold that from him. I reached gently—so gently—to usher away the strands of his hair that fell around his face and over his wounds. Tucking them behind his ear, I repeated the action three times to ensure that they were out of the way, and when I was finished, my hand lazily draped on his neck.

“Today was bad,” I told him in a meek tone.

Making sure to lock his eyes on mine, he responded, “It was. You can’t get it out of your head, can you?”

I shrugged. “I can deal with the screaming and fighting and…y’know…everything.”

He gave me the most minuscule of nods. “I know.”

“You being gone, though…I can’t. You’re here, and it’s over, but I—I was scared shitless, Jay.”

His face pinched together as he breathed, “Cassie.”

I admitted, “I just…I can’t help but feel like if I fall asleep, I’ll wake up, and you won’t be here.”

“Oh…come here,” he consoled me, pulling me flush against him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He said the last sentence in my ear as my face nestled into the crook of his neck, and the scent of his bodywash invaded my nostrils. It was a smell that I was entirely too fond of—a musk that could only be described as teak or mahogany—and I allowed myself to feel as though I were being consumed by it. He sighed into me, and his touch began to comfortingly trail up to my head—down over my hair, and back again. The gesture made my chest tighten and my heart skip, and there was no hesitation as I murmured:

“I love you.”

James’ movements stopped, as did his breathing, and I supposed that should have made me nervous. Well…I supposed that speaking those three words at all should have been an altogether nervous affair, but it wasn’t. Though the way that he froze against me could have been construed as him being taken aback or working up the courage to tell me that it was simply too soon for him to repeat the sentence back to me, I didn’t care. I hadn’t said it because I wanted to hear the words in return—I just needed to speak them aloud. Needed to tell him.

He pulled back, looking into my eyes with a hooded gaze that I knew wasn’t caused by the pull of sleep, and he whispered:

“Say that again? I…don’t know if I heard you correctly.”

“I love you,” I repeated, stressing the words with purpose. James blinked slowly, and I gently noted, “There are acceptable responses aside from I love you, too, y’know…I care for you…I love being around you…you’re special to me…” Even in the dim lighting, his eyes sparkled while he smiled softly at my suggestions. I continued, “Thank you would also be…fine. Not the best, but fine. Or, you could just kiss me—”

His mouth sealed on mine quickly but delicately, and there was no pang of disappointment beneath my ribcage. Instead, there was a lightness within me as our lips moved against each other’s because there was no rush. He had all the time in the world to repeat his I love yous back to me, and I would wait patiently until that time came—whether it was days, weeks, or months…it didn’t matter.

It was after our third soft kiss that he quietly spoke against me, “God, I love you, too,” and hearing it snatched the air out of my lungs.

“You’re sneaky,” I admonished him breathlessly, “waiting to say it back like that.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “You caught me off guard.” James kissed me again. “I love you.” Again. “I love you.” And again. “Fuck, I love you.”

I whimpered his name as my arms tightened around his neck. He snaked his arms down to squeeze me tight around my waist, and in the smoothest of motions, our drowsiness was whisked away, and our kiss turned deep. Our touches turned ever-greedy. His hands wandered under my shirt by the hem, his warm palms skating from the bottom of my spine to my neck, and I moaned into his mouth as he pulled me tight.

We devoured each other until heat was swelling between my thighs. My hips moved forward and back, his briefs-covered erection pressed hard against me, and James removed my shirt with a quick tug over my head. He immediately gave my breasts deft attention, tongue lolling over my nipples. My head fell back as my tone turned breathy, and with his hands pressed on either side of my ribcage, he pushed them upward, his beard scratching the flesh that rested in his palms.

I ushered him to take his time there, his movements, the soft sounds of his hums, and the smacking of his mouth a music that caused my eyes to roll back, and when I reached for his groin, he let out a pleasure-induced:

“Ahhh.”

His motions ceased when I palmed him through his briefs, moving up and down as he gasped against my chest, and as I shifted to remove my bottoms, he did the same.

The fabric was kicked to the floor. My leg hitched over his hip. He pressed against me. We flexed into each other, and the feel of him stretching me was so magnificent that I lost my breath.

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