Page 71 of Beat of Love
And when she kissed him back, not tentatively, but sure, something in him finally gave way.
She was choosing him — broken and ugly. Choosingallhis stained pieces.
His hands threaded into her hair — that glorious, glorious copper waterfall — pulling her closer as if proximity could silence the ache inside him. When her body pressed to his, soft curves against the hard planes of muscle wound tight with guilt and longing, something inside him cracked wide open.
She was warmth.
Steady.
Solid.
Here.
And he felt like a live wire, every nerve-ending sizzling, barely holding together.
He pulled back just enough to look at her — eyes searching, hungry, uncertain. “Tell me to stop,” he said hoarsely. “Red … if you don’t mean this—”
She silenced him with a kiss, slower this time, more deliberate. “Don’t stop,” she whispered against his lips.
A door clanged. Laughter drew nearer.
They both stilled. Her breath was still warm on his lips, her hand still curled against his chest.
But the world had shifted. The spell was broken.
He stepped back, fast, as if burned — reality slamming into him like a fist to the ribs.
What the hell am I doing?
Shame washed over him.
Shame for letting her in.
Shame for wanting her.
Shame for proving, once again, that the damage inside him wasn’t buried.
No sirree, it was just waiting to spill out and ruin the one good thing he hadn’t already destroyed.
“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. His pulse was still racing, but now for all the wrong reasons.
“You okay?” she asked, voice gentle. Too gentle.
He laughed — a low, bitter sound that scraped at his throat. “No. Not even close.”
She took a cautious step toward him, but he backed up again.
He needed to get away from her intoxicating presence.
“I shouldn’t have come,” he said, hating how raw his voice sounded. “And I damn sure shouldn’t have touched you.”
“Don’t say that,” she said.
“Our kiss — that was me, needing something I don’t deserve. Reaching for comfort I had no right to take.”
Her brow knit, confusion and hurt flickering in her eyes, and that gutted him more than anything. “Iaskedyou to kiss me.”
He dragged in a breath, trying to steady the chaos inside. “And I lost control. I let myself forget, just for a second. But forgetting …” His throat closed around the words. “Forgetting is how people get hurt. And, Red, I havealreadyhurt you. This needs to stop. Now.”
