Page 205 of Fury

He chuckled softly, pulling back the sheet and climbing in next to me. The heat of his limbs, the wall of his torso pressing against me. His hair was wet. The fragrance of my shampoo tickled my nose.

“I repeat, you don’t know how to ask?”

An arm wrapped around me pulling me close. “Sunshine,” he whispered, the rough pad of his palm moving down my side to my hip. “Tonight I need to be here with you. You want to fuck, we’ll fuck. But either way, I’m here in your bed.” He was determined, but an underlying note of tenderness in that scratched husky voice of his made his words seem almost fragile.

My mouth dried, my pulse picked up. “Did something happen? Something bad?”

“Only good things.” His leg rubbed mine. “But it was a lot of different things all at once, and I’m waiting for the aftershock to hit.”

My hands pushed against his chest. “Are you in danger? What the—”

“Not sure yet.” His palm smoothed around my neck. “But it had to happen.”

“What exactly?”

His hand dug in my hair at the back of my head. “Today I blew my horn and the wall fell down.”

I swallowed hard at the purposeful tone in his voice, the tingles shooting over my scalp at his firm touch. “You’re quoting the Old Testament?”

“Yeah. I always liked that Bible story of Joshua’s destruction of Jericho. He blew his horn, the wall fell, and they burned the city with fire and ‘all that was therein.’” He let out another soft chuckle. “Jericho, the Flames—harlots all.”

“Joshua, Finger—whatever.”

“Hmm.” He took in a deep slow breath. “Everything’s changing for the better. I’m making sure of it.”

His erection rubbed against me. My skin heated, and I held my breath, suddenly unsure of what to do. Suddenly I wanted to run out the door. Suddenly I wanted to bury my face in his throat, wrap myself around him and hold on tight.

“You still deciding?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Let me stay.” His hand smoothed my hair down my back.

“That’s really nice, you asking when you’re already naked in my bed.”

“Let me hold you tonight, Lenore. Sleep next to you. I’m wired, but I’m exhausted.” His voice was low.

My hand opened over a pec, his heartbeat drumming under my palm. A simple gesture I’d done thousands of times in the past. Now it felt new, daring, exhilarating. My every sense was pinned on that touch. I stroked his firm flesh, and a low noise escaped his throat.

“You need me, is that it?” I asked.

His hand covered mine on his chest, keeping it still. “I’ve always needed you. Now more than ever.”

The quiet sincerity and genuine yearning in his voice, despite his fatigue, clutched at my heart. But I wasn’t going to let his blitzkrieg tactics get the best of me. I removed my hand and lifted myself away from his body. “You took a chance coming here. I might not have been alone. I still might not be. It’s early yet.”

His lips twitched. “Uh huh.”

“Not concerned?”

“No.” He inhaled deeply, a warm hand lazily sliding up my side brushing the curve of a breast. “Coconut and violet smells good on you. You still take a shower every night before bed?”

His memory was impressive. “Yes. Did you take a shower just now?”

“Yeah. I used the fig and vanilla, though.”

“I made those shower gels, by the way.”

“You’re a talented woman.”

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