Page 72 of After All The Wreckage
“But the more time we’ve spent together, the more I’ve seen the fierce, beautiful woman you’ve become. All adult. Sexy as hell. Not a teen kid, and yet you’re also not just some random woman I’ve met at a bar. There’s no way I can lose myself in the stunning person you’ve become to satisfy this wild craving and then just walk away. It wouldn’t be right.”
My insides fluttered at his words. There’d been so many years when I’d longed for Gage to say I was beautiful. Stunning. And now, here he was saying it, and yet I still felt the “but” hanging in the air.
“Gage—”
He moved so fast it shocked me, both hands landing on my face. His thumb brushed my lips, preventing me from saying more. Our mouths were so close, it wouldn’t take much more than a sharp inhale to bring them together. His eyes were dark tonight. The deepest of grays right before the lightning struck and the thunder roared.
What would it be like to get lost in Gage’s storm?
He talked about craving. My entire body ached for him. Wanted what he offered. Needed it more desperately than I’d ever needed anything.
“I see you, Rory,” he said, stroking my bottom lip, fanning the flames inside me until I thought he’d be able to see them through my skin. “I see the weight of the responsibilities you carry just like me. At first, the idea of adding mine to yours felt as wrong as the idea of taking you for only a night. But I think there’s a way we can help each other. We’re strong alone… but imagine what we would be like if we shared our burdens.”
My hand circled his wrist, pulling him away from my mouth and settling our palms joined on my chest, where my heart banged as fiercely as it burned.
“Do I get to talk now? Do I get a say in any of this?” I asked.
A small smile curved over his beautiful lips—satisfaction and desire. More emotions that would spread themselves all over the case I was working, hiding the truth like the fog rolling in from the Potomac covering the cobblestone streets.
When he didn’t say anything, I continued softly, “To deny I want you would be like denyingVeronica Marsis the greatest television show ever.” I watched with joy as the hunger in his eyes intensified. “But we both have more people than ourselves to consider. I don’t know…”
I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see him while I turned him down. Was I really going to push him away after years of comparing every man in my life to him because of some rule myfather tossed out as if it was a law of nature? Could I turn him down?
Exhaling a shaky breath, I opened my eyes and said, “Just tell me to shut up and kiss me.”
His mouth pressed against mine, and my entire body convulsed with relief. But even as the sparks ignited, fanning my burning embers, I could tell he was holding back. My words had struck home. He needed someone in his life who was all in. Someone who would stick. Someone who wouldn’t treat their life as if it had a revolving door the way Demi had.
If I joined the FBI, if there was any way for me to still make that dream come true, it would be just that. Me in and out. Not just because of cases I was working on, but because they’d stick me in some field office in the middle of nowhere until I proved myself. I wouldn’t be here.
Unexpected tears leaked out from behind my closed lids because I knew the truth. Knew I couldn’t let this moment turn into something more if I was going to disappear. I had to decide to be all in or walk away. The minute the tears landed on his hands, he pulled back.
“Why are you crying?” His voice sounded tortured.
“Because wanting you and not being able to keep you is just one more loss I’m not sure I can take.”
He groaned, eyes closing, and then he was devouring me. This was not a gentle kiss that spoke of letting go, but one that demanded I give him everything. Begging me to stay instead of leave.
The darkened room seemed to fill with neon colors. Flashing signs both warning and luring me to enter as his lips sought to convince me to give him more than just my mouth—to hand over every last part of my heart and soul. To change my dreams so they were about him and his family and a very different life than the one I’d seen for myself.
His tongue swept along my seam, and I opened for him. Without any reluctance. Without regret. Only an incredible yearning unlocking secret wishes about belonging and family. He angled our mouths, joining us closer, and yet it wasn’t enough.
He pulled me onto his lap, hand skimming the heated skin along my waist, sliding up under my sweater and curving along my side and to my back, palms spreading wide, pushing us together until I felt every single line of him pressed into me. Until sinew and bone merged into something new, lightning forging sand into glass.
But what if we broke?
What if we shattered?
What would remain of me after more wreckage?
I panicked, pushing us apart and shoving myself off his lap. My chest heaved. My lips stung. My heart and body demanded I go back and finish what we’d started.
His lids closed. Anguish and regret coasted over his face.
“God. Rory. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t!” I demanded. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.” He opened his eyes, doubt swirling in them, clearly not believing me. “I’m not sorry. I just… I need to catch my breath. To think.”To make sure I don’t hurt you or me or all of us. But I couldn’t say those last words aloud. They felt too raw and real and permanent.
He stared for several seconds before reaching down and righting my computer.
