Page 100 of War

It’s as if he’s breaking in front of me. Cracking into shards. I grip his lapels to keep him close. “We were getting to know one another. You and I never did that.”

“I want to know everything, Ava. I want to know everything about you. I want to be the one who knows the most. Your dreams. Your fears. I want it all.”

I can’t stop the smile that curves my lips. This sweet man. Even in his anger, even in his jealousy, he brightens even the darkest moments. “He has a tiny picture of my past,” I assure him. “A blip in my life. You have today.”

Tyler slides a hand up my neck and rakes his fingers through my hair before giving it a good tug. “I don’t want just your today,” he rasps. “I want your tomorrow. And the day after that. I want all of it. I’m eternally captivated by you. I’ll never get enough. It guts me that he has any of it. He knows things?—”

“He doesn’t know the sounds I make when I come.”

Tyler blinks, and his whole body goes rigid. “What?”

I rest my head against the wall with a quiet thump. “We were taking things slow. Apparently that meant only he got off.”

Face lowered, he lets out a feral growl. “Bordel de merde.”

Warmth blooms in my chest. “I love when you speak French to me.”

Pressing his forehead to mine, he blows out a breath. “French Canadian, mon cher.”

Biting my lip, I blink up at him. “You did it the other day too. In front of Hannah.”

He nods, our foreheads rubbing together.

“What did you say?” I shrug. “If you remember.”

Tyler straightens and chuckles, though the sound is almost pained. “Oh, Vicious, you still don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Every moment with you is imprinted on my brain.” He presses a hand to his chest. “In my heart.”

My pulse picks up, but I keep my voice even. “Prove it.”

THIRTY-NINE

TYLER

“Prove it.”

This fucking woman. How the hell can she have me yo-yoing between emotions like this? One moment I’m ready to put my fist through the wall, and the next I’m aching to fall to my knees and worship at her feet.

Can I do what she’s asking? Show her how I really feel? Tell her what I said to her that day in Hannah’s office? If I do, there will be no going back.

Does she have any idea what she’s asking of me? What that kind of confession will do to our carefully crafted plan to raise kids together for the next sixteen years?

Rather than baring my soul all at once, I give her my truths one at a time, slowly, watching her reaction, hoping she’s really ready for them. I cup her face and stroke the curve of her cheek, relishing the softness of her skin. “Tout ce à quoi je pense c’est te faire l’amour à chaque instant de chaque jour. Comment tu goûtes. Comment tu parles. Je suis obsédé et te voir obsédé, C’est me foutre la tête. Ne me brise pas le cœur visqueux. Je ne m’en remettrai jamais.”

Ava’s green eyes warm and her lips curve into the most beautiful smile. She may not understand the language, but based on this reaction, it’s clear she understands the meaningbehind the words.

I suck in a breath before I continue. Then, with a thick swallow, I begin. “All I think about is making love to you at every moment of every day. How you taste. How you sound. I’m obsessed, and seeing you obsessed is fucking with my head. Don’t break my heart, Vicious. I’ll never recover.”

I hold my breath, waiting for her reaction, and I startle a little when she pops up on her toes, loops her arms around my neck, and pants “so do it” against my lips.

“Do what?” I murmur between kisses.

“Make love to me.” She backs away, emerald eyes full of heat. “Find out how I taste. How I sound.Do it.” There’s a challenge to her words. Of course there is. She’s challenged me every day since I met her.

I search the hallway, and when I spot a door a few steps down, I drag her toward it and push her into the dark space. Unable to control myself, I press her up against the back of the door and kiss her again.

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