Page 57 of Faith's Redemption

“What did you see, exactly?” I ground out, desperately hoping she hadn’t seen the drugs. Please, God, no.

“What did I see?” Her voice was a choked, indignant whisper now. “That’s your fucking worry?” She dashed away an errant tear that fell as if irritated with it. “Oh my God, I’m such a moron. I heard her, Adam.” She shook her head angrily. “To think I believed you when you said you hadn’t been with anybody in six years.”

When she moved to grab her suitcase again, I stepped bodily in her way. “It’s not what you think. Not even close.”

I had no idea how I was going to explain this away, but no way in hell was I going to let her believe I’d fucked someone else the day after I made love to her.

She rolled her eyes and tried to push past.

“Faith,” I growled. “Stop. Listen to me.”

“Not interested.” She ducked around me and managed to get her bag. When she turned around, I’d already made it to the door and slammed it shut. Her eyes grew wide. “Adam. For God’s sake—”

“I should have told you that day at the bridge that I loved you.”

She froze at my words.

My heart was thrumming so hard, I could feel my pulse beating in my temples. Those words were so far past due, I’d been carrying the weight of them like a thousand-pound millstone around my neck since the day I was arrested. I never wanted to burden her with them. I’d told her the truth earlier. I knew if I’d given her a hint of my feelings, she would have put her life on hold and waited for me, and I couldn’t have stood for that. She deserved so much better than the likes of me. But I knew I was destined for this moment the instant I found that box of unopened letters wrapped so perfectly in a bow under her bed.

Her eyes narrowed to slits of anger. “How dare you use that—”

“I’m not using it,” I continued, my voice gravelly. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

“Trust you?”

“You deserved all the pretty words and pretty things back then, but I...” I shrugged. “I wasn’t that guy. I’m still not, but I want to be. I want to do that for you.” I took a deep breath and let it go slowly. “And when I tell you things aren’t as they appear, Faith, give me the benefit of the doubt,” I said. “Don’t assume the worst. Do that for me.”

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, but I saw the uncertainty pulling at her brows. “Don’t play me, Adam. I know what I heard.”

“You heard shit. I was running an errand for CJ,” I spit out the first lie my mind came up with. “Picking up some packages. He had a customer and didn’t have time to meet her, so I said I would. Nothing more. I didn’t open the packages and I don’t even know her name.” That part was true at least.

I saw her mind tick over my excuse. “Why couldn’t you just meet at the shop? Or the apartment? Why the bridge?”

I shrugged. “I get the feeling it’s some off the books shit. I didn’t ask, he didn’t tell, and I was just trying to be helpful.” I took a tentative step in her direction, thankful when she didn’t step back. “After last night, do you honestly think I have any reason to even look at another woman?” I moved into her space and threaded a hand through her short waves.

“I don’t know, anymore,” she whispered.

I used my other hand to wipe her tears. “The answer is no, Faith. It’s always been you.”

No point in either of us avoiding the truth any longer. I needed her to stay for more than one reason at this point. The scary part was, my lines were already so blurred, I wasn’t sure which was more important anymore, the case or my feelings for her.

Big blue eyes lifted to mine. “I’m afraid to believe you.” It was probably the most vulnerable confession I’d heard from her in years. Maybe ever.

I watched as the walls began to form and she started to close off from me. She pressed her palms to my chest as if to push me away even as I closed in.

No. Fuck that. I may be a million kinds of fucked up, but she was not going to shut me out and leave here thinking I’d screwed around on her. Not after I’d touched her. Tasted her. Been inside her body after so long apart. Not on my watch.

I dove in and pressed my lips to hers, swallowing her protests and tasting her anguish. I slid my tongue along hers and she moaned as if in pain, even as her hands clenched my shirt tight, and instead of pushing, began to pull me closer.

I changed the angle of the kiss so I could take it deeper and pivoted us so I could back her up until we fell onto the bed.

She responded to my kisses and the weight of my body like she’d been born to do it, writhing and making little groans of pleasure, which I ate up like a glutton.

I raked a hand up under her shirt, feeling her ribs and cupping a breast as I thrust my hard, jean-covered cock over her mound.

She ripped her mouth away, panting. “Wait. Stop.”

I drew my hand back and kissed the side of her lips. “Why?”

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