Page 34 of Leave Before I Love You
My breath comes in pants as the reality that I’ve finally convinced him hits me, and my head swims with the imaginings of what happens from here. Henry’s blue eyes burn a hundred degrees hotter than usual, and, considering he’s a man with a smolder that could already kill, that’s really saying something.
The heat. The tension. The unrelenting, pulsing need that’s been burning between us for years. All of it is undeniable now.
There’s no stopping this.
“You can change your mind.” His voice drops, low and steady, a whisper of raw, unshakable resolve.
He’s giving me the choice, making sure I know I have an out, but his grip on me and the way his fingers are tangled in my hair are possessive in a way that screamsmine. And hell’s bells, it only makes my need for him grow to a level I’ve never ever experienced with a man.
“Any time, no matter how far we go,” he continues. “You can always change your mind.”
He’s still a gentleman, still putting me first. And if that weren’t already enough to convince me that Henry Callahan is the right choice, the way he’s looking at me? The way his body anchors me, protects me, worships me without even touching me yet?
It’s more than enough.
It’severything, and it confirms that he’s safe.
I should’ve never run away from whatever this is between us at that Halloween party over four freaking years ago.
I mean,Gah, he was the Antonio Banderas to my Catherine Zeta-Jones, and the kiss we shared nearly put me on my ass. All of that should have been a damn sign.
I nod, our foreheads brushing, our breaths tangling. “I know. And thank you. Thank you for being everything I already knew you were.”
His jaw flexes, his grip on me tightening. “Avery.”
“Kiss me, Henry.”
He doesn’t hesitate. Lacing his fingers into the loose hair at the back of my head, Henry pulls my face toward his until his mouth claims mine. My belly feels firm and buoyant all at once, and my arms ache to wrap around him tighter.
I clutch his back as he presses our lips together, my eyes falling closed in sweet surrender as we give ourselves over to the moment completely.
I’ve kissed a million times before.
But never like this.
Neverlike this.
All the air in my lungs leaves, which is funny, because somehow, I still feel like I can breathe—feel like our connection is what’s keeping me alive. Henry’s fingers spasm at the back of my head, and I fight to get our mouths even closer, even though I’m fairly certain I’m already swallowing him whole.
I moan, and he disconnects our mouths briefly, sucking at theskin of my neck to the point that I know I’m going to have a hickey.He’s marking me, and I fucking love it.But also, I can’t imagine I taste good after this many days without a full-blown shower, so I try to give him an out.
“You don’t have to…like…kiss me all over. I’m sure it tastes like dirt and sweat and ocean.”
“Yeah. Fuck that.” His voice is gritty, primal, and he leans back to force my gaze to his.
He searches my eyes for a long moment, and then he grips me snugger, pulling us impossibly close together. “If I’m going to have you, I’m going totasteyou,” he says and leans forward to nip and suck at my neck again. “Every inch, every fucking gorgeous part.”
He leans back again to lock our gazes. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re sweaty or salty or dirty.” His breath scorches my skin, his lips moving back up, hovering at my ear. “Your skin is still like fucking candy.”
Holy fucking hell.With a speech like that, far be it for me to disagree. “Well, okay then.”
“You’re mine tonight, Ave.” Henry’s words are a low growl against my skin, his voice the perfect combination of rough and commanding and sex and sin. His grip tightens on my hips, and his body cages me in, holding me exactly where he wants me—so much so that I can feel the hardness of his cock through his pants pressed firmly against my already throbbing clit.
And fuck if I don’t love it.
A shiver rolls through me, my skin hypersensitive, my nipples straining against the fabric of my shirt. The weather-worn cashmere of my sweater feels suddenly overstimulating, so I lean back enough to pull it off over my head, exposing the tanned skin of my chest, shoulders, and stomach to him.
Henry’s gaze darkens, his nostrils flaring, his hands sliding up my ribs, his thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts.
