Page 111 of Stay for Me

His eyes dropped from my face, scanning down my body slowly, studying every dip and curve before coming back up to my face. “Still trying to decide if this is a dream,” he said, his voice thick.

I nodded. “Me too, handsome.”

“If it is a dream, beautiful, then I pray to a God I don’t believe in that we never wake,” he murmured.

I said nothing as I sat up, getting to my knees and moving to him. He did nothing, remaining still and silent as I brought my hands to his waist, fisting the sides of his wet shirt. He stared down at me with an intensity I’d never seen from him as I began to pull it up, careful not to touch his skin. He let me, thank God. He let me, and when it was time, he lifted his arms up and pulled it all the way off. I kept my eyes on his face, knowing I wouldn’t look at his body until he gave me consent.

Goosebumps spread across my skin, running from the heat radiating from him now. My nipples were peaked, only inches from his chest, our breaths quiet, quick.

“You can look,” he said softly.

The shards of glass were back in my throat, and when I finally broke our gaze, my eyes dropping to his chest, the glass began to shred me from the inside out.

The right side of his chest was covered in dark hair, trailing all the way down between his abs before disappearing into his undone jeans. The left side of his chest, though, had less hair, the skin a dark red, almost purple, raised and bumpy. It stretched over and down his left side. My eyes trailed back up, finding it stretched underneath his arm and over to his back. Wrapped around his left bicep was a tattoo, a small, thin line with names etched across it in a delicate cursive.

In my gut, I knew they were the names of people he’d lost when he was in the military. My eyes slowly lifted back up to his, finding nothing but patience and warmth lingering within them.

All I wanted was to touch him. To kiss him. To cherish him.

“Please,” I whispered, leaving my plea to hang in the air between us.

Little did I know, he was about to gut me.

“Haven’t had a woman in my bed in over a decade, Diana.”

My lips parted, my spine stiffening.

“Haven’t felt a woman’s touch in over a decade.”

“I—”

“Came to Hallow Ranch knowing I’d never have either of those things again,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken, reaching out and cupping my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. “I was willing to survive without them, baby.” My throat closed as his eyes dropped to my lips. “Then, on a day when I was lost in my head, battling demons I didn’t know if I would survive, my eyes landed on you when I came out of the barn.”

Both of my hands went to his wrists, my bottom lip trembling.

“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’d ever seen, in that yellow dress in the middle of the snow. A little light shining bright in all my darkness,” he murmured. He paused, looking back into my eyes. “Wanted nothing but your heart, your body, and your touch since, Firefly.”

“Stop,” I begged, my voice unsteady.

“Wanted all that knowing I didn’t deserve any of it.”

“Mags, please—”

“Now, you’re here, in my bed, letting me give you pleasure, waiting patiently for me to let you return the favor.”

A single tear fell onto my cheek, and he caught it with his thumb.

“Y-you’re the most b-beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Mags,” I stammered, my breath hitching.

His lips curled up slightly before he touched his mouth to mine. “Touch me, Diana.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mags

“Touchme,Diana,”Iordered softly.

When she didn’t, I wrapped my arm around her body, her beauty, and pulled her closer, touching my head to hers. I let out an unsteady breath, my scar tingling. “Put your hands on me, baby,” I pleaded roughly. “Touch your cowboy.”

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