Page 41 of Desire Me
Blank.
Rae stared at Elliot. Just stared.
It took Saint to tie the pieces together for her overwhelmed mind. “We are theorizing—and that’s all it is right now, a theory—that something happened, sometime in the past six months. We’re not sure of the nature of that ‘something’ yet, but given that you are here, so far from home, seemingly on the run, but with no indication of anything wrong or even out of place back home…”
“You think what family I have left has something to do with what’s going on.”
Saint’s full lips tightened before he nodded.
She nodded too. It might seem like she was understanding, like she was taking everything in, but—yeah, no. She wasn’t. She blinked at Saint. After a few moments of silence, she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back as she stood. Patted his firm pecs absently. “I need a few minutes, okay?”
She didn’t wait for his response. Like a zombie she left the meal they’d prepared behind, walked down the hall into the master bedroom, and closed the door behind her. Moved into the bathroom. The massive tub waited against one wall, and she stumbled over to turn the water on. While the tub filled, she returned to the bedroom and shuffled through the drawer where she’d emptied her clothes until she found an oversize T-shirt she could sleep in. Panties. Because bed was the only other place she intended to go.
The tub was half-full when she re-entered the bathroom. PJ’s on the counter, her current clothes on the floor, and she stepped into the welcome heat of the bath.
Maybe she was in denial. Maybe her brain had finally short-circuited. She didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. All she wanted was to drown herself in the warm nothingness of the water. Her body lowered until she broke the surface, liquid heat pouring over her torso, her face, enveloping her completely. She closed her eyes and pretended she was weightless, worriless. Nothingness. Only when her lungs threatened to burst and her peace was replaced with a desperate need to breathe did she sit back up.
And promptly screamed.
“Whoa, whoa, cariño.” Saint squatted by the side of the tub, arm plunged elbow-deep in the water, fingers closing around her bicep. Fear and worry were stamped clearly on his face. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Then make some damn noise next time,” she spluttered. “Or knock, for fuck’s sake.”
“I knocked,” he assured her but didn’t let go. “You’re scaring me, Rae.”
She relaxed, sitting back against the sloped side of the tub. The ache behind her eyes had her rubbing at it. “I think I’m scaring myself, Saint. It’s all too much right now.”
She dropped her hands, and Saint’s gaze followed them as they dipped beneath the surface of the water—and stuck on the perfectly clear view of her breasts.
“Rae.”
God, that look. “Saint.”
She didn’t move to cover herself. She probably should. Now was not the time to complicate any piece of her life, and she had a feeling sex with Saint would be a huge complication.
She didn’t peek over the side of the tub to see just how huge.
He breathed deep, staring, and despite the caution lapping at the edges of her mind, surging to the forefront was a much stronger need—to feel something good, to distract herself from the revelations she’d just heard, to know this man in the way she must have in the past, recapturing a piece of herself she still couldn’t remember. Arching her back was pure instinct. When her breasts broke the surface of water, Saint choked.
Rae reached for his hand. “Touch me, Saint.”
Resistance crossed his face but didn’t make it to his hand before Rae brought it into contact with her breast. Her hard tip touched the center of his palm, his fingers curling instinctively around the plump outer curve, and she moaned.
“Rae.” Desperation edged her name.
“Don’t say no to me now, Saint.” She didn’t think he would. Whether he realized it or not, he was plumping her breast, fingers stroking her wet skin. A pinch to her nipple had her squeezing her legs together. “Saint.” A demand.
Saint leaned forward over her, coming dangerously close to the water as his head dipped and his lips surrounded that ultra-sensitive tip. Rae’s hands gripped his head immediately, pulling him closer. Silently begging for more. But just when it seemed Saint would give her exactly that, both his mouth and hands disappeared.
She barely held back a frustrated scream. Probably wouldn’t have if Saint’s mouth hadn’t met hers.
This kiss was nothing like their previous one. No softness, nothing tentative. Saint took, and what he took, he conquered. His lips opened hers; his tongue pushed deep. He tasted of hunger and urgency, and she wanted all of it that she could get. But all too soon he abandoned her mouth too.
He didn’t go far. Their harsh breaths mingled as his forehead settled on hers.
“What?” she asked, the word breathless.
Saint shook his head, his brow rubbing against hers. “We have to stop. I have to stop.”
