Page 89 of Brutal Obsession

“Are you serious?”

When I tilt my head toward hers, our foreheads connect. “Yes.”

“Why would you do any of this for me?”

I clear my throat. The fuck am I supposed to say to this question?

“I…”

For fuck’s sake, I’m stammering like an adolescent boy on his first date.

Eyelashes shining with tears, Harper nods at me. “Yeah?”

“I…don’t like to see you scared.”

Harper shrugs, as though all hope is lost, as though nothing matters. “Even so. Give me one reason I should believe that you’re telling me the truth.”

Why do I find this so fucking hard? “Fine.”

I seethe with frustration, and desperation moves my lips to hers right after.

“Ci—” Her protest comes too late.

Our bodies press together as I tongue her mouth like I’m starving for it.

Who am I kidding? Iamstarving for it. After that hotness at the motel, I’m ravenous for another taste, and this might be our last chance.

I kiss Harper until she’s moaning as my fingers drag down her back and tighten around her waist. Her arms fasten around my neck, and then she does that thing that makes me nuts and bites my lower lip like she wants to eat it.

Heat accumulates in my lower back. The muscles in my arms flex involuntarily, chanting for me to do it, so I do.

One adjustment and she’s in my lap, straddling me, andfuck,I want to spear her with my cock all over again and damn the consequences. In more ways than one. My fingertips dig into the denim covering her ass while my other hand disappears up the back of her shirt.

Harper shivers when my bare skin brushes hers. And I know why. Because when we touch, it does the same thing to her that it does to me.

Just this little bit of skin-to-skin contact drives my senses insane.

I kiss Harper until she understands, until she’s panting for breath, same as me. And then I try to explain myself again.

For once, I even let myself drown in her eyes.

“You need to trust that some things are real…even if you don’t know the reason why.”

Chapter 25

Harper

I’m staring out at the Pacific Ocean, soaking in the bright blue view for what may be the last time. Cian sits beside me, his fingers laced with mine.

That’s right.

Cian Mahoney and I are holding hands. In an airport. Like a real couple.

The situation is bringing up so many emotions that I can’t focus on it. Instead, my eyes stay glued to the scene unfolding outside the windows.

The sun leans lower and lower in the sky, bowing toward the horizon, while pinks, purples, and periwinkles contour the heavens like a watercolor painting. This might be the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen in my life.

And experiencing it with Cian, for some reason, means so much to me.

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