Page 36 of Forever in the Country

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at someone and see forever but know you’re not fucking good enough for them yet? Do you know what it’s like to pray every day and night that they hold out just a little longer?”

“Why didn’t you say something?” I demand. “Why didn’t you just ask for more time? Tell me how you were feeling—”

“And what?” He cuts me off. “Be another person you’re taking care of when everyone already relies on you? After I’ve already done it for two damn years? I couldn’t. I’m shit at talkin’ but I’m doing the best I can—showing you the best I can that I’m trying.”

“Sorren—”

“You scare the fuck out of me, Sunshine. You make me unhinged and I know I won’t be gentle. I can’t. I can’t be sweet and loving and all the shit you deserve. And there’s no going back if I have you. If I taste your pussy, if I have my dick between your legs—you’re fuckin’ mine.”

His chest heaves as the confession leaves him. The wind howls outside but it’s nothing compared to the war being waged inside the shelter.

Inside Sorren.

Reaching between us, I cup his face with shaking hands and force him to look at me as I search his gaze for the certainty I already know is there but need to verify anyway.

“I don’t want to go back.” The stubble on his jaw bites into my palm and a little shiver races down my spine.

“I’m serious. Once I—”

I pull him down until his lips meet mine and there’s no doubt between us. He kisses me with a ferocity that’s beyond passion. It’s raw and desperate and wipes away the days, weeks, and months of keeping him at arm’s length.

His hands grip my ass and he pulls me up the wall like I weigh nothing before pinning me with his body. My legs wrap around his waist and I rock against him looking for any friction I can get.

“You smell so good,” he says as he kisses down my neck, and I need more, so much more.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know,” he rasps, the gravel of his voice sending heat straight to my core.

“We’re going to talk about what you did and—”

“Figured,” he says as his hand drags up my side to cup my breast under the sweatshirt and I gasp.

“I deserve—”

“Everything,” he says reverently as he kisses me slower but with just as much intensity as in the parking lot.

“Then stop teasing me.”

“I’m not fucking you in here.” He pinches my nipple when I start to protest and I moan at the same time he rocks his hips against me. “You’ll get off, don’t worry.” His mouth trails hot kisses down my neck, his stubble scraping against my skin. “I want you to knowexactlywho you belong to.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Sorren.”

“Maybe you should be,” he says raising his head to meet my gaze.

He’s trying to give me one last chance to get out of this—to say no—but I’ve never wanted anything less.

“I’m not.”

“Makes one of us.” He murmurs the words against the shell of my ear.

“And what about you?” I’m proud of the way my voice doesn’t waver even as my legs tighten around his waist. “Do you belong to me?”

“Rhea.” The way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine. “I’ve belonged to you a lot longer than just tonight.”

He says it like it should be obvious, and the nonchalance of it makes me want to strangle him. How long have we wasted in this exhausting in-between when we could have been together?

“Stop talking,” I snap.

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