Page 56 of Being Bold
She swallowed reflexively as he brushed the hair off her cheek. “I’d die before I let anything happen to you.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
As much as she needed Bo with her, she couldn’t stand the thought of him getting hurt. Frowning, she gripped his shirt in her fists and stood on her toes. “No dying.”
Before he could tell her no, she pressed their mouths together. Though the possibility of death hung over her head in an angry cloud, she clung to the last rays of hope. Hope they’d both make it through this unscathed.
His hands hovered by her sides, and his mouth didn’t yield to her lips. Sensing his restraint, she wondered what it would take to break it. She licked across the seam of his lips, then caught the lower one in her teeth and gently sucked on it. He met her assault with a sound that was half a pleased growl, half a fervent plea. The kiss heated quickly after that.
Bo’s hands pulled her flush against him while his head tilted, changing the angle of the kiss. He swept his tongue over hers, and his dark citrus and stone scent encompassed her. Her arms stayed trapped between them as he claimed her mouth.
He was all hot demand, and she gave in—willingly. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that a night with Bo would be one she’d never regret.
He lowered his hands, trailing them over her hips before squeezing her bottom. A noise she was sure she’d never made before worked its way up her throat when his erection met her center. Now she was the one making pleas. In answer, cold air suddenly washed across her swollen lips.
Bo gripped the fists she still had in his shirt and rasped, “We can’t. Not here. With the team right next door.” He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than her.
But she wanted something else from him tonight. “Can you just . . . hold me?” She cringed as the words left her mouth.
How pathetic am I?
His eyes softened, and he lifted a hand to brush a thumb slowly across the beard burn she felt on her chin. “I marked you like you’re mine, but I don’t deserve to have you.”
She reached up and gripped either side of his face to ensure he saw what was in her eyes as she said, “Yes, you do. You deserve to have fun, to be happy, to laugh, to—” She stopped herself, afraid of pushing him too much, but then she shook her head and took a deep breath. If she dared to face Mr. Dao, she could be brave enough to say it. “To love.”
His expression darkened like a storm cloud at the feelings she knew swam in her gaze. “I don’t dolove.” He put distance between them, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “I don’t do relationships.” His eyes traced her lips before meeting her stare. “Never have, ocean-eyes.”
That sick feeling of disappointment knotted her stomach again. She didn’t have the best dating history either, but at least she’d had a few relationships. Short-lived though they were. Her job as a translator had made it hard to build anything real when she planned to leave every six months. But she’d had a long-term boyfriend in college.
Jared had been great. By graduation, they’d decided to part as friends. He wanted to settle down, and she wanted to see the world. They realized their paths were taking them in different directions and didn’t try to hold on to something that would’ve just broken miles down the road.
But what she felt for Bo was new. Different than anything she’d experienced before. It was so much deeper and thereforescarier. Especially when he didn’t seem to feel it, or if he did, he shut it down instead of allowing them to see where it might lead.
Without question, she wanted more than he was willing to give. He’d shown her that.
With a sigh that did little to ease the constriction around her lungs, she asked softly, “Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” his answer came out in a husky whisper that lit a spark of hope in her chest.
He moved toward the bed. Watching her, he kicked off his boots, then sat down, scooting until his back hit the mound of pillows against the headboard. Lifting his arms, he said, “Come here.”
Warmth spread around the ember, lighting her insides. At least he hadn’t pushed her away. At least he was giving her what she’d asked for.
With a small smile, she climbed onto the bed and settled into his embrace. She rested her head on his pectorals while his arms wrapped around her. When one of his hands played with her hair, she smiled. “That feels nice.”
He grunted in response, and she wondered why she found that charming. Maybe because he seemed almost . . . bashful? Like he’d never played with a woman’s hair before.
Maybe he hasn’t.
He probably didn’t spend much time cuddling with women if he’d never had a relationship. Not that she wanted to think about him cuddling with other women. A sour expression twisted Selene’s lips. She was jealous, even though she had no claim on him.
“Bo?”
She waited for him to acknowledge her. “Yeah?”
“If you ever change your mind . . . about relationships. You’d be really good at it.”
His hand stilled its stroking motion in her hair. Before things could get more awkward, she changed the subject. “So, what’s your favorite color?”
