Page 44 of Spinner's Luck

The air between us thickened, raw and heavy, but his words chipped away at the jagged edges of my guilt. Slowly, I nodded.

Spinner leaned back against the headboard, pulling me against him. I didn’t fight it. My head found its place on his chest, my ear pressed over the steady, unshaken rhythm of his heart. His arm curled around me, strong, immovable, like he’d hold me together even if I shattered.

His lips brushed the top of my head. “I’ve got you.” His voice was low, a promise. “No nightmares gonna take you from me. Not tonight. Not ever.”

I didn’t answer, but my fingers curled into his side, holding on like he was my last grip on solid ground.

And maybe he was.

Spinner’s body was warm, comforting—his steady heartbeat the only thing keeping me from slipping back into the nightmare’s grip. I lay against him, my breath still uneven, my body tense with the memories of the past.

His fingers trailed slow circles on my back, his touch grounding me, but it wasn’t enough. The dream still clung to me, sinking into my skin like a brand I couldn’t scrub away.

I needed more.

I needed him to make it fade.

I lifted my head from his chest, meeting his eyes in the dim light. They were dark and steady, watching me but not pushing. Spinner didn’t do that, he just stood strong, solid like a rock. The kind of guy you could lean on and know he wouldn’t let you fall.

But I needed more than this kind of comfort tonight. I needed something stronger to drown out the ghosts biting at my ribs.

I slid my hand up, fingers brushing over the ridges of his scars, over the ink stretched across his skin. His jaw clenched beneath the scruff lining it, but he didn’t stop me.

“Lucy,” he said, my name rough on his tongue, more of a warning than a question.

“I don’t want to think,” I whispered, my fingers tightening against his chest. “I don’t want to feel anything but you.”

His breath came slow and measured, but I saw the fire flicker in his gaze, banked but waiting. He wanted me. He always did. But this wasn’t about just want.

This was about what he thought I needed.

“Darlin’,” he rasped, his fingers grazing the nape of my neck. “You sure that’s what you need right now?”

I swallowed, my throat tight. “Yes.”

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

His eyes searched mine, his fingers tightening where they rested against my skin. “I’ll give you what you need,” he said, his voice husky and firm, unshakable. “And you’re gonna know exactly where you are and who you’re with.”

I sucked in a breath, his words hitting somewhere deep in my heart.

“It’ll always be you,” I whispered.

The second the words left my lips, his control snapped.

“Come here,” he growled, rolling me beneath him in one fluid motion.

The heat of him was everywhere, caging me in, pushing out the cold remnants of my nightmare. He didn’t kiss me right away—just hovered, his breath ghosting across my lips, making me wait.

Spinner never rushed. Not when it mattered.

His fingers traced my jaw, down the column of my throat, slow, deliberate. “Say it again,” he murmured.

I swallowed, my pulse thrumming beneath his touch. “It’ll always be you.”

His mouth crashed against mine, a wildfire sparking in the darkness.

There was nothing soft about the way he kissed me, no hesitation, no careful restraint. Just raw, unfiltered Spinner. He tasted like heat, like whiskey and midnight air, like everything he had ever made me feel since meeting him.

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