Page 23 of Semi-Reckless

“Then tell me, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing you’ve done that I can’t forgive.”

His gaze shifted to her lips, almost like he was trying to read on them if she was telling the truth. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he murmured.

She waited for him to clarify. And waited. Then waited some more. His mouth remained stubbornly shut. Annoyingly shut.

“Talk now, Roan,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“It’s not?—”

Haven planted her hands on his chest and shoved. He moved maybe a millimeter back, which just pissed her off even more than she already was. Where was all her new power when she really needed it? “Go ahead. Tell me it’s not that simple again. Avoid telling me anything of substance. I fucking dare you. Do it and see how I react.”

He glowered down at her. “I’m just trying to protect you.”

The scream of frustration she let out was backed off to half volume, but it was still enough to draw every shifter eyeball in the place. She didn’t care. She didn’t care that she was making a scene, or that Roan was looking at her like a half-exposed roadside bomb. “I’m so sick of you and everyone else trying to protect me like I’m made of glass. I’m a legacy demon hunter, for fuck’s sake! I’ve had more martial arts and self-defense training than anyone on the planet. I’m a dhampyre with roughly ten times the strength of a regular human. And still you, Lane, my parents, hell, even my aunt Seven treats me like I’m a wilting Victorian child with the plague. Why the fuck won’t any of you just admit that I can take care of myself?!”

Flames flared in his eyes, and she was glad to see them. It was about time someone else got angry for a change. “You don’t get it. You never have,” he hissed. “Everyone knows you’re capable. Everyone knows you’re strong and talented and smarter than you have any right to be.”

“Then why do you keep trying to bubble wrap me?”

“Because you’re my fucking sun, Haven. My entire existence in this dimension has amounted to nothing except orbiting around you.”

Her jaw dropped. But he wasn’t done yet.

“I was raised in hell,” he went on. “Tortured for years. Since then, I’ve traveled to dimensions that were even worse. And through it all, the only thing that scares me now is imagining what this world would be like without you in it.”

They were nearly nose-to-nose now. Her chest brushed against his with every ragged breath they took. Her brain was an utter clusterfuck of potential responses. What the hell was she supposed to say to you’re my fucking sun? Should she tell him she loved him, too? Should she demand he take her home and fuck her until she was too tired and weak and dehydrated to move for the next week? Should she…

Whatever she was going to say (which, let’s face it, could’ve been something really embarrassing or inappropriate) died in the back of her throat when Roan snaked a hand around the nape of her neck and slammed his mouth down on hers.

Well, this was certainly an unexpected turn of events…

CHAPTER 12

Haven had been dreaming of kissing Roan almost since the moment she met him. He’d been in a prison cell deep in the bowels of the Section 8 basement, which made it kind of awkward.

But that was beside the point.

Haven had been kissed before. Not often. But there had been a few dates over the years that had ended in kisses. Some were better than others, but most of them were nice. Kind of vanilla on the pleasure scale. But Roan’s kiss?

Intoxicating.

Roan had always been tender with her. Careful. But not now. He took her mouth roughly, like he intended to devour her. It was wild, a little angry, and hot. Oh, holy hell, was it hot.

He tasted like cinnamon and pure, unadulterated need. She’d never tasted anything so amazing in her life.

She needed more. In fact, she was pretty sure she’d die if he stopped kissing her.

By some miracle, he seemed to understand her desperation because he chose that moment to yank her closer, letting her once again feel how much he wanted her.

While it was true that she was a virgin, she was not ignorant. She’d seen her fair share of porn and even had a few electronic, vibrating boyfriends of varying sizes that she’d taken for, ahem, many, many test drives. But what she was feeling pressed into her stomach right now?

Huge. Hard. Possibly unmanageable.

All hers if she played her cards right.

Although…would she even be able to walk afterwards? Did Section 8 offer disability pay for sex related injuries? She wasn’t sure.

But oh, was she eager to find out.

---