Page 18 of My Starry Valentine

I don’t know how much time passes, but my senses slowly return to me. Outside the shell of warmth beneath the blankets on the couch, the air feels inordinately frosty. My eyes scan the room carefully, noting the lifeless DVD player and other electronic device interfaces. The storm must’ve knocked out power.

No wonder Luna cuddled with me. My damp, exposed cheeks provide all the evidence I need. It’s freezing in here. But why hasn’t the generator gone on? I blink hard several times, straining my ears for its telltale growl. Nope. Nothing.

“What’s wrong?” A sweet, feminine voice croons from the crook of my arms. I stiffen, uncertain how to respond.

A petal-soft hand strokes my cheek, palming my face as her thumb runs back and forth over my beard, making scratchy noises. The most delectable sparks shoot from her fingertips down my neck into the juncture of my heart. The tenderness of her caress and the softness of her words shock and overwhelm me.

Out of all the responses she could have for me this morning, I never allowed myself to contemplate this one. Despite my self-loathing and fear of having others see, touch, or judge my scars, I remain riveted to the couch, swallowing hard as her tiny fingers knit little pieces of me back together with each caress.

“Good morning, Angel,” I say warmly, the corners of my mouth turning up despite myself.

She beams at me in response, flooding me with addictive waves of love. “Angel?”

“Yeah.” I grin, looking up at the ceiling bashfully before directing the full warmth of my searing gaze on her. Luna’s cheeks darken, her nostrils flair, and her eyes dilate, making breathing impossible. I confess, “That’s technically my first nickname for you. Which means I get two more…”

She nods, smiling back at me.

Still drowsy enough to speak without a filter, I say, “You know, you shouldn’t be allowed to wake up this beautiful. It’s pretty much criminal.”

“And you shouldn’t be such a good liar before daybreak,” she replies, running the backs of her fingers over my beard, leaving trails of fire and longing everywhere they fall.

I swallow loudly, fighting the renewed sting at the back of my eyes as I say in a raw voice, “I’m not lying. You’re so stunning it hurts me to look at you.” Usually, I’d wince if a cheesy line like that crossed my lips. But the tremble of my voice communicates my sincerity.

Her cheeks glow as her tear-filled eyes drink me in, the tension in the room so dense I gasp for relief.

I need a change of subject. “Did you sleep, okay?” I manage, desperate to get a hold of myself.

“I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well on a shared couch.” She stirs, stretching in my arms, and disappointment fills me. I’m not ready to let go of her, though I know I should. Yet, to my surprise, she snuggles closer, bringing her hand from my face to my chest.

“I hope I didn’t wake you in the middle of the night screaming or talking or anything like that?”

She shakes her head. “No. I think we both slept like babies.” Suddenly, guilt floods her face, and she sits up stiffly. “Do you know what time it is? Do you think Naomi’s out of surgery yet?”

“I don’t know,” I say reluctantly, letting go of her and sitting up straighter. I stretch the muscles in my shoulders and neck the best I can without actually relinquishing my place next to this sleeping beauty. Her warmth and tenderness feel like lifelines to me. “The power went off at some point in the night, and the generator didn’t turn on. I don’t know why.”

Luna lets the blankets sag, continuing to move around, and the interior air’s uncustomary chill needles me to get up and get busy. If I don’t sort things out quickly with the generator, I could end up with frozen pipes and later house flooding.

In the morning’s darkness, however, the spell she’s woven around me is palpable, inescapable. I need more of her. I bring my hand to Luna’s cheek, pushing a stray hair off her face. “I want to remember you like this forever. Is that a creepy thing to admit? Be honest.”

She bites her lower lip, her cheeks flushing as her eyes drop to my mouth. “It’s not creepy at all.” A bittersweet smile captures her soft, kissable lips as she draws closer, covering the gulf between us before I can pull away. Her lips feather over mine, catching me so off guard I freeze. I need to stop her…to back away. But with every throb of my heart, I lose another sliver of reason to her magnetic pull.

Her arms circle my neck, declaring her desire, and I can’t deny her. Surrendering to the taste of this alluring woman, I lean in, letting my lips confess my craving. God help me. Luna presses against me, covering my warm, tentative lips with her passionate ones and wresting a needy moan from deep within my chest. Heat floods my core, and my heart smashes around wildly.

I pull back, dangling painfully from the tatters of my shattered willpower, bringing my forehead to rest against hers. I press my eyes shut, confessing breathlessly, “The thought of leaving you right now feels impossible, Angel. But I’ve got tofigure out what’s going on with the generator, and I’ve got to check in on some of my elderly neighbors. And we need to figure out what time it is and get you on the phone with Naomi or the hospital for an update.”

I brush my lips over her forehead, and she gives me a disappointed little nod. Before I can stop her, she grabs my cheek again, pulling me towards her for another kiss.

My beautiful little guest doesn’t realize the fire she’s playing with as a deep warning growl resonates from my chest. My hands glide from her hair down the smooth skin of her neck.

They rest on her delicate shoulders, my thumbs possessively stroking her smooth throat until I draw a whimper from her. Roving over her shoulders, down the contour of her shapely back, they settle at her waist. I cinch her against me, desire knotting thickly in my throat as my thirst for her swallows me whole, deluging me in sensual waves of longing.

I yearn to feel every inch of her pinned against every inch of me, desperate for her touch. A visceral part of me wants to greedily gobble her up, refusing to let her leave me. And I get the strong impression she might be okay with that. But would it be the right thing to do?

I pull back, gasping for air and resting my face in the crook of her neck. My whole body tightens around her as I fight for self-control, letting out a frustrated sigh. Feeling a new fire born at the back of my neck, where her fingers slide through my hair, longing simmers near the boiling point.

“I can’t do this,” I hiss against her décolletage, pressing my lips against the delicate sweep of her collarbone. Her hands slip beneath my shirt, spreading sizzling flames as she massages and caresses my back. My tongue swipes over her skin, tasting her shoulders. To my satisfaction, she trembles and sighs, urging me on.

Yet, somewhere through the heady haze, a strand of reason lingers, pulled taut like a piano string, sounding in the morning stillness. Drawing back from her neck, I whisper against the shell of her ear, my voice shivering with restraint. “I can’t. Please. We have to stop.”

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