“I don’t.” His voice was little more than a rumble.
“Let me be selfish for a day.”
He frowned.
I put my finger over his lips. “No strings.”
He nodded and lowered his mouth to mine, then scooped me up into his arms.
I wound my arms around his shoulders, never severing our connection. He tasted of the wine and the sharp balsamic from the bruschetta. He tasted of the wind and the sun.
He tasted like nothing else in my life.
When he walked through the living area to my room, there were no nerves.
I’d been a tool for so many people. My mother, my father, even my brother. This was for me and only me.
I laid my hand against his hair-roughened cheek. The kiss dissolved into a groan as he stretched me out on the king-sized bed. I reached for the buttons of his shirt, wanting nothing but his skin.
He flicked one open then reached back and yanked it over his head before tossing it aside to sit on the edge of the bed.
He was smooth and tanned. A surprising amount of ink was hidden under the linen shirt. Under the T-shirts and dress shirts. My fingertips raced over the swirls of flame on his shoulder, the surprising rosary that wound around his bicep with the beads melting into the cross. His other arm was just as inked. This time with an intricate geometric pattern with tons of shading that stopped right at the sleeve of a T-shirt.
We both had been shoved in boxes for a long time.
He just chose to color his box.
I leaned over and licked a trail up the rosary to the flames then over to his chest. I brushed my cheek against the warm skin of his pec catching his sandalwood scent as I moved up to kiss his neck. “You make me feel beautiful. Wanted.” I met his gaze. “Needed.”
“Good. Let me add worshipped.” He rolled me onto my back, caging me into the mattress. “One night isn’t going to be enough.”
“It has to be.”
“Then I’m going to make it count.”
Chapter 16
Xavier
One night.
The words rolled through my brain but they didn’t compute. Why only one?
Was it because she was worried about Jude?
Our work?
Something else?
I knew something had happened at The Mason Jar, but I couldn’t pinpoint what.
And she felt too good for me to puzzle it out right now. Her auburn hair was spread out on the white pillow and the dress that was distracting was perfectly pooled around her hips.
I lowered my mouth to hers, lightly pressing myself down on her to get her used to my weight. Her hands immediately went up to curl around my back and I eased myself between her thighs.
She groaned and one knee rose onto my hip. I dipped my hand under the material, pushing it up her thigh. My fingers gripped into her hip. She was curved in all the right ways, filling my hand.
I inched down to the vee of her halter top, drawing my lips across her skin. “Untie,” I said against her skin.