Page 25 of Loving You

A moment later, I make a quick adjustment to hide her effect on me and numbly followed, closing and locking the door, mind still not fully forming coherent thoughts.

As thrilling as it’d been to be her guinea pig, one thought had thundered in right along with the cold air between us.

Why had she needed to do that?

And why did April, the woman who’d once reveled in different euphemisms for me having a stick up my ass,askto kiss me? I’d always imagined she’d simply take what she wanted when she wanted it. I had no doubt she’d been one of those kids who preferred to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

And yet…

I shook my head as I followed her into the kitchen. That thought was based on my old impressions of her. Every interaction we’d had in the last few months were now in question, and the last few weeks had proven that what April projected wasn’t all real.

Or, at the very least, something had changed.

I scanned her, wishing I could read her mind as well as I seemed to understand her body language. Her arms were folded over her chest and her shoulders were hunched in, almost like she was shielding herself from me.

The words were on the tip of my tongue—What’s going on? Why did you kiss me? How can I help you?

Fuck if I didn’t feel a sense of desperation edging into my chest, worry and frustration battling for first place. But it was the faint smile on her lips that had my steps faltering, that internal battle instantly replaced with a sense of pleasure.

Her posture might’ve been shielding, but she didn’t seem upset. She didn’t seem to regret that kiss, and damn. That was a huge relief.

“Sorry about that, I just…” She bit her lip again, eyes flitting around the space between us but not meeting mine.

Tenderness flooded me and I stepped forward, so we were close, but not touching. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. Believe me.”

The last statement came out more sharply than I’d meant, but I watched in wonder as her eyes heated and her chin rose.

“That easy, huh?”

A hundred unhelpful responses shot through my mind.It could be. Let me show you how easy it could be.

Fortunately, instead of attempting to show her how easy things could be between us, I managed to stick with the matter at hand. She was here in distress. She’d woken in the night upset and scared. She’d needed my help with whatever that was back there.

An exploratory kiss did not equal an invitation to do what I wanted with her, even if the number of items on that list was rapidly growing.

So instead of betraying what a horny asshole part of my brain had become tonight, I spoke logically. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

I hadn’t phrased it as an order or a command by design, worried that my self-control only extended so far. And seeing her eyes light up with that fire once again when I told her what to do would not help the situation in my pants.

She turned, arms still wrapped around her, and tracked her way to the guest room while I valiantly did not appreciate the curves of her ass in those little shorts.

Wordlessly, she climbed into the bed and seemed slightly startled when she realized I hadn’t stopped at the door but now stood next to her.

“Sleep well, April.” I took the duvet and tucked it around her, so she was all bundled up.

She blinked back at me, so much in those eyes I couldn’t read it all.

And then I turned and got the hell out of there before I did something like run my thumb over her cheek or press a kiss to her head. I’d given her permission to touch me, but she hadn’t done the same.

This—all of this—wasn’t about me.

Whenever she wanted to tell me what was going on, I’d be ready. And until she did, I would keep myself locked down. I wouldn’t push her in any way, even if the thought of telling her exactly what to do, just the hint of that fantasy, sent fire through my veins.

April needed me, but not like that. And if she was coming from an abusive situation like I thought she was, she wouldn’t want that anyway. She needed gentleness and freedom and someone who could submit to whatever she wanted.

I’d do well to remember that.

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