Page 23 of Diesel
The morning light was just starting to creep in through the curtains, painting her skin in soft gold.Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, her lips parted slightly in sleep.God, she was beautiful.Not in a polished, perfect way, but in a way that made something inside him ache.
Diesel brushed his knuckles across her cheek, light as a breath.Couldn’t help it.She stirred at the touch, eyelashes fluttering open.For one hazy moment, her gaze was soft with sleep, unfocused.Then her eyes found his.
A slow smile curved her lips.“You stayed,” she whispered, voice rough with sleep.
He swallowed hard.His throat felt thick.
“Yeah,” he rasped.“I stayed.”
She shifted slightly, her hand sliding up to rest over his heart, fingers splaying against his skin.That simple touch nearly unraveled him.
“I’m glad,” she murmured, gaze steady on his.No fear.No regret.Just quiet certainty.
Diesel let out a rough breath and pressed his forehead to hers.
“You shouldn’t be,” he whispered.“I ain’t good at this, Sophie.”
She smiled, small and sure.“You’re doing just fine.”
Goddamn woman.He closed his eyes for a beat, drawing strength from her calm.When he opened them again, she was still watching him with that same gentle look.Like she could see through every shield he tried to put up.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?”he muttered.
Her smile widened just a little.“You’re one to talk.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest.First time he’d laughed in what felt like forever.They lay there a while longer, neither in a rush to move.The world outside the walls of her apartment could burn for all he cared in that moment.
Eventually, she shifted again, stretching like a cat.The sheet slid down her body, baring smooth skin and tempting curves that made Diesel’s pulse hammer.
“Careful,” he growled low.“You keep moving like that and I won’t let you outta this bed all day.”
A flush crept up her cheeks, but her eyes sparkled.“Maybe I don’t want to get out.”
Fuck.It took everything he had to rein himself in.He rolled slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at her.His free hand skimmed her side, reverent.
“I’m not gonna lie to you,” he said, voice low and rough.“I want you.More than I should.But this ...it’s more than that.You get that, right?”
Her breath caught.She reached up and traced his jaw with her fingertips, eyes serious now.
“I know,” she whispered.“And I want more too.But you have to stop running from it.”
Diesel swore softly and leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, her mouth.Slow and deep this time, no battle in it, just truth.
“I’m trying, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips.“God help me, I’m trying.”
She kissed him back just as slow, her hands sliding into his hair.When they finally broke apart, her stomach gave a small, traitorous growl.Diesel chuckled again and brushed her hair back from her face.
“Guess I better feed you before you waste away,” he said.
She laughed, cheeks pink.“You can cook?”
He arched a brow.“I can manage breakfast.You trust me?”
Her smile was soft, sure.“I trust you.”
Damn, if those three little words didn’t land like a punch straight to his heart.He pressed one last kiss to her temple and reluctantly slipped from the bed, tugging on his jeans.
As he padded toward the kitchen, he glanced back once.She lay tangled in the sheets, watching him with a look that shook him to the core.Not lust.Not gratitude.Care.Real, dangerous care.For the first time in years, Diesel thought maybe he could be a man worthy of it.
