“Hannah, it wasn’t about the scars. It was never about that.” He held her when she would have pulled away. “Look at me.” She obeyed, but he wasn’t sure she was seeing him, from the way her eyes swam with tears. “Baby. You’re breaking my heart.” He kissed her cheek as one escaped. “I was shocked, yes. More that someone had hurt you.”
When she remained quiet, he brushed his lips across her temple, her cheek, and was well on his way to her lips, when she pulled back.
“I can’t.” She looked down at her hands folded tightly in her lap. “I can barely be touched.”
“I disagree.” He tipped her head back with a finger under her chin, pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’ve touched you.” He nibbled at the bottom, then the top and the corners, took his time persuading and convincing. “I love your mouth. Could get lost in it for days. Your lips, the taste of you on my tongue.”
She parted her lips, maybe for a breath, maybe to say something, but he took the opening she’d given. Gave her no chance to pull away from him because he needed to kiss her more than he needed his next breath. Deep and slow, he kissed her for everything she’d been through. Every way she’d been hurt and sad and afraid. “You’re so damn beau—”
“Don’t.” Her fingers flew to his lips. “Just…don’t.”
“Hannah.” He stared into her eyes and it killed him that she didn’t see it.
She leaned against his chest and he touched his lips to the top of her head. He’d hold her all night if she’d let him, just like this. Like he should have done days ago. But he hadn’t held her, he’d left. Made it worse?
“Was it my fault?” he asked softly. “The anxiety attack?”
“No. I might have been thinking about it more but…I have dreams. Nightmares.”
God. Knowing his own, he couldn’t imagine the terror she must face in her sleep. “Would it help if I stayed?”
“I don’t know.”
She’d barely gotten the words out when he stood with her in his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding out.”
He walked the short distance to her bedroom, laid her on the bed, and joined her so they were facing each other.
“What are you going to do?”
“Lie beside you. Recite boring numbers until you fall asleep.” Her lips curved at that. “And,” he added seriously, “if you have a nightmare, I’ll be right here.” He pulled up the quilt and got comfortable. “One potato, two potato, three potato, four…”
She made an obnoxious snoring noise that got her a swat on the bottom. And got him a smile. “You’re right. That is boring. Is that how you made all your money?”
“Yep. That and musical chairs.” She smiled again. It always took his breath away, but when she smiled because of him? Nothing was better.
They were quiet for several minutes, eyes open, close enough for their breath to mingle. “You have a lot of night-lights.”
“I know.” She glanced around her room. “Can you sleep? Want me to unplug some?”
He noticed she said some, not all. Even with him here, she didn’t want to be completely in the dark. “No.” He swept her hair back. “I like seeing your face.”
She laid her cool, soft hand against his neck. “I like seeing yours too. You really are gorgeous. Though I’m sure you know that.” She traced a finger over his brow, his jawline, down his nose.
He snapped at the finger circling his lips and made her squeal. “On second thought, you look like a duck.”
“Very funny. Maybe I’ll recite some baseball stats.” He tugged until she snuggled down with her head on his chest. She smelled like freshly washed hair and body wash, scented and girlie. Her small hand covered his thundering heart. His bigger one skimmed down her back, dipping at her waist, over her hip and up again. Even that simple touch had him on fire.
He’d need those stats before the night was over.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.” She spoke into the quiet and his hand stilled. “I should have. That wasn’t fair, but I…”
“If you thought I wouldn’t want you, you’re wrong.” It killed him that she’d thought that. That she’d been thinking it the whole time. The issue was more the truth she didn’t know about him. The stain and ugliness of his soul.
“Hannah, I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you. I still want you.” And if he pulled her a little closer, she’d feel exactly how much. Before he could force himself to create some space between them, she lifted her face and pressed her lips to his. It was a soft meeting, a kiss so profound it brought tears to his eyes. Because she mattered. Everything about her, everything about being near her mattered, when he hadn’t wanted anything to matter for so long. Wasn’t entirely sure he did now. Because he wasn’t good for her and she was undoubtedly smart enough to know that.
So he meant to keep it there, just a kiss, until she arched into his chest. His sweet, tentative Hannah. She deepened the kiss, rubbed her body against his. He shifted so that his leg eased between hers and the lines he’d drawn for himself went gray and fuzzy.
With the blood pulsing in his ears, his hand swept under her shirt. She wound her tongue around his, tugged at his hair until he groaned. And when he covered her breast with his hand, molded his fingers around it, the air left his lungs. His senses tumbled into overload with her nipple grazing his palm and her skin sliding under his lips.