Page 15 of Craving Her Cowboy
He stared at her, but not with pity. More like he saw himself in the words.
“You got out,” he said, not a question.
“So did you,” she shot back.
“Not really.”
The air thickened between them. The room, tiny as it was, felt like it shrank by the inch.
He reached for the towel that was still in her hands, meaning to take it, but his hand landed on her wrist instead. She stilled, waiting. His thumb dragged slowly over her skin, tracing the ridges of an old scar there. Her heart hammered so hard she thought he’d feel it.
Gavin’s voice dropped. “You’re shaking.”
“So are you.”
He leaned in, his forehead brushing hers. The contact was electric, not gentle, and it shot straight to her core. “You want me to stop?” he asked, voice rough.
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
He kissed her then, fast and hard, no hesitation. Her mouth met his, and for the first time in months, she felt all of herself move forward towards something instead of pulling back. His hands slid up her arms, then tangled in her hair. She pushed him back, not to stop but to get a look at him, his eyes wild and full of pain.
He stared at her with an intense look in his eyes. “You scare the hell out of me, Asha.”
“I know the feeling.”
He laughed, a sound half-swallowed by need, and pulled her into his lap. Her legs wrapped around his hips, bodies crashing together so hard it knocked the lamp off the side table. She didn’t care.
His hands stripped off her shirt and he paused to look at her. He pulled her head down to his, mouth hot on her skin of her neck. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he said, voice barely a whisper. She felt her face heat, the words hitting a place deeper than any touch. He shifted his body then lifted her in his arms, his hands holding her tight under her ass.
He shifted their bodies, one hand under her thigh, and pressed her back against the wall, their bodies fitting together in a way that felt inevitable. She still had on her bra, but Gavin made quick work of that until there was nothing but skin and heat and the electricity flowing between them. She wrapped her arms around his neck, fingernails digging into his shoulders, and he groaned, low and guttural. She could feel him hard against her, the urgency in his movements barely leashed.
“Bedroom?”
“Yes,” was the only word that came to mind. Asha had all types of warnings going on in her head, but she wasn’t willing to stop. Not right now. Maybe not ever.
“You sure?” Gavin would happily take whatever she gave him, but he also wanted to make sure this was what she wanted.
The place was so small, it took only a few steps to get to the bedroom. Laying down with her underneath him, he held her wrists above her head, kissing her slowly, dragging his tongue along her jaw. She could barely breathe, could barely think. All she knew was the way he moved, the way he touched her, like she was the only thing keeping him alive.
She flipped them, straddled his body. She rode him hard, every thrust driving out the last of her doubts, every gasp from his mouth a victory. She felt herself come apart, then felt him follow, hands gripping her hips so tight she knew she’d bruise.
They collapsed, breathless, the storm outside suddenly less important than the storm in her body.
He wrapped an arm around her, pulled her tight to his chest, and for the first time all night, neither of them said a word.
After, they lay side by side, Asha’s head on his chest, his hand heavy on her hip. The silence was companionable, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. She could hear the rain start to slacken, the patter on the roof softening by the minute.
She traced the line of his scars, one finger running from his shoulder down to his ribs. “You going to tell me how you got these?”
He exhaled, a long breath. “Humvee. Afghanistan. We hit an IED.” He looked at her, waiting for the pity.
She didn’t offer it. “You make it out on your own?”
He nodded. “Dragged two guys. Lost three.”
She rested her hand over his heart, feeling the slow, strong beat. “You ever talk to anyone about it?”
He barked a laugh. “I talk to walls. Sometimes to horses. Never really felt like talking with people.”
