Page 13 of Collateral Damage

She wouldn’t.

Because she wanted more from him. Whatever he was willing to give.

“Where in the hell did you come from?” His words were barely discernible. Muffled and distorted by the slide of his lips over her skin.

Bess pretended not to hear them, because tonight was coming dangerously close to becoming complicated. Instead she only let herself think about the feel of his body on hers. The skim of his hands. The heat of his mouth against her neck.

But Whitt wouldn’t stop talking. Saying things no man had ever said to her. Not even the one who had her for years.

The man who claimed to love her.

“God you’re fucking beautiful.” He pushed up to his knees, peeling her sweater over her head as he went, almost black eyes taking in every inch of her. “So fucking perfect.”

The urge to argue bubbled up.

To tell him she was far from perfect. It had been pointed out to her many, many times.

Also by the man who claimed to love her.

But if Whitt wanted to think Carly Smith was perfect, then she was going to let him. “Thank you.”

His gaze rested on hers, a tiny hollow place she was sure he didn’t realize she saw, lingering raw and hungry in his eyes.

Maybe she could fill that for him. Give him something tonight too.

His own bit of clarity to keep close.

She just had to be brave enough to do it.

4

“IT’S THE TRUTH. Youare beautiful.”

He didn’t offer the truth often, but damned if he didn’t want to give this woman all of it.

And get hers in return.

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