Page 22 of Diesel
“Because I care too damn much already,” he rasped.“And that scares the hell out of me.”
“Diesel...”She kissed him then, slow and lingering, pouring her heart into it.When she drew back, her voice was steady.“I’m scared too.But right now, I don’t want you to go.I want you here, with me.”
For a beat, he didn’t move.His breath was ragged.Then something inside him broke, and thankfully he gave in.
With a low groan, Diesel pulled her back down into his arms and wrapped himself around her, protective and possessive and so tender it made her eyes sting.
“You drive me crazy,” he murmured against her hair.“But I can’t let go.I don’t want to.”
“You don’t have to,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss beneath his jaw.“Stay.Please.”
His whole body shuddered like he’d been holding that wall up for too long.He tucked her tighter against him, nuzzling her hair, her cheek, the curve of her shoulder.He seemed to be unable to stop touching her.
“All right,” he said softly, voice low and rough.“I’ll stay, sweetheart.I’m not going anywhere tonight.”
Relief swept through her so hard it nearly made her cry.For the first time in weeks, Sophie felt safe.Whole.Complete.She sighed and nestled closer, resting her palm over his heart, feeling its heavy thud beneath her hand.
Diesel pressed another kiss to her temple, then her brow, slow and reverent.They lay tangled together in the sheets, skin to skin, hearts beating in sync.His hand stroked up and down her back in lazy, soothing passes, as if he still couldn’t believe this was real.
“Go to sleep,” he murmured against her ear.“I got you.Nothing’s gonna touch you tonight.”
Chapter Seven
Diesel woke beforethe sun.It wasn’t habit, not this time.It was instinct.Years of sleeping light, ready to spring at the first wrong sound.But this morning, when his eyes opened, it wasn’t the hum of danger that greeted him.It was warmth.A small, soft body curled against his chest.
Sophie.
For a moment, Diesel didn’t move.Just lay there, still as stone, soaking in the impossible fact of her in his arms.The way her bare leg tangled with his.The weight of her palm resting against his ribs.The faint scent of flowers and sugar in her hair.
It hit him then, harder than any punch.He hadn’t run.He’d stayed.Some part of him, buried deep under years of walls and scars, wanted to stay right here forever.
He exhaled slowly, careful not to wake her.His arm was still wrapped around her waist, and when he tightened it a fraction, she sighed in her sleep and burrowed closer with a soft little hum.
Damn, but she felt good against him.Perfect.Diesel shut his eyes, fighting a surge of something fierce and protective.He hadn’t known he was capable of feeling this way again, not since his sister.Not since the night that had torn so much out of him.
But here he was, holding this stubborn, beautiful woman like she was the last good thing he’d ever touch, and maybe she was.He opened his eyes again and looked down at her.
