Page 87 of Beneath Your Beautiful
“You weren’t supposed to know about that.”
I ran my hand down his chest. “I was right. Underneath that tough exterior, you’re a marshmallow.”
“How do you figure that?”
“You were trying to protect my feelings.” I put my fingers over his lips. “Don’t even try to deny it.”
He growled and bit my finger. “Let’s go upstairs.” Before I could respond, he was off the sofa, hauling me to my feet and dragging me up the stairs.
“I’m surprised you don’t pull me around by the hair.”
“Would you like that?”
I laughed. “No.”
He kicked his door shut, swept me off my feet, and tossed me on the bed. Then he was on top of me, his body covering mine. Arms wrapped around me, he rolled onto his back, bringing me with him. Cool, damp air came in through his open bedroom windows. Outside, the skies were gray, and the rain had tapered off to a drizzle, but the backyard looked like a mud pit.
I rolled off him and tugged up the hem of his T-shirt. “Take it off.”
His lips quirked in amusement, but he pulled the T-shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. My fingers danced across his bare chest like I was playing a piano, a finely tuned instrument. I studied the tattoos on his upper arm and imagined the design extending to his left pec. I smoothed my hand down his chest, over the ridges of his muscles, his skin smooth and warm.
Propping my head on my hand, I traced the curves of his face with my fingertips. I knew his face and his body by heart now. If I were blindfolded and could only identify it by touch, I’d know it was him. I thought he brought me up here for sex, but now I realized it was more than that.
He rolled onto his side to face me. “Eden, what you said before…I don’t want to break your heart. I don’t want to do anything that will ruin what we have.”
“I won’t let you,” I said.
“Promise?”
“Promise. I love you, Killian.”
His eyes searched my face, and I held my breath. I hadn’t planned to say that, even though I’d known it for a while. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. The room was so still and quiet, the air heavy with my words still hanging between us. “I love you too,” he said so softly, I almost didn’t hear him. “You own me, Eden. Body, heart, soul. I’m yours.”
I nearly wept at his words. He turned his head to look at me. “That’s some pretty deep shit for a lazy Sunday.”
I laughed, and he pulled me on top of him, wrapping his arms around me, my cheek pressed against his chest, right above his heart. “So, what’s this tattoo gonna be?” he asked a few minutes later. I’d just been lying on top of him, breathing him in, lost in my own happy love bubble while his hands massaged my back, making me purr like a kitten.
“My name,” I teased.
“Yeah?”
I laughed. “No. I’ll give you something better than that.”
“You can work it into the design.”
“You’d tattoo my name over your heart?”
“I love your name, so…yeah.”
Wow. Just, wow. Ink was for life. This was almost more monumental than hearing him say “I love you.” Hearing him tell me I owned him. I didn’t think anyone had ever owned Killian. I lifted my head, and he tipped his chin down to look at me.
“Killian,” I whispered.
“I know.” He put his head back down on the pillow. “This is all kinds of crazy.” He started laughing, his chest rumbling under my body, the sound filling up the quiet room. I was laughing with him, and I had no idea why, but it felt good to be this happy. My heart expanded like a balloon, filling up so much, I thought it might burst from joy.
Our laughter was interrupted by a pounding on the door. Connor yelled up the stairs that he’d get it. I heard the door opening, followed by a voice I knew all too well, even though it had been months and we’d only spoken for a few minutes in a noisy bar.
“What do you want?” Connor asked, sounding so much like Killian.
