Page 49 of Pocketful of Us

"Yeah." He grunted, wrinkling his nose. "I heard something about that."

"Kinda makes sense now, huh?" I whispered, trembling. "The dreams? The connection?" I shivered. "The way we've always been with each other."

"Nothing makes sense, Ro," he replied hoarsely. "Just you."

"Only me?"

His eyes burned with heat. "Yeah.'

"Since forever and for always?"

A pained groan escaped him, deep, guttural, and full of need, as he tightened one hand around my waist and buried the other in my hair. "Fuck, Ro, it hurts."

Concern filled me. "What does?"

"Having so many feelings," he admitted gruffly, noses pressed together. "Feeling too much."

"You're nose kissing me again," I croaked out, chewing on my lip.

"Yeah, but I can't help it," he replied with a smile. "You're a habit I never quite learned to quit."

"Good," I replied, shifting closer. "Don’t ever quit me."

"I won't quit you if you don’t quitonme," he replied in a melancholic tone.

"You are so wanted, Sketch," I blurted, needing him to hear my truth. "So freaking wanted, baby."

"Not by them," he replied and I knew exactly who he meant. "Never by her."

"Screw your mother," I hissed. "I want you. Me. I want you, Sketch! You are wanted byme. You always have been and you always will be."

"All my life, I've been told that I'm not good enough," he whispered. "That I'm unlovable and unwanted." I could feel his pain. It was emanating from him in waves. "Then you came along and everything changed for me. I had someone in my corner. A friend. Myonlyfriend. My whole world wrapped up in one little girl. And then you were taken… and then they took youagain." He groaned like he was in physical pain. "The thought of not being with you makes me sick. It makes me want to kill something. I'm so invested in this relationship, Ro. I'm so invested in you. You're all I see. I fly right off the ledge with you, Romi. Every damn time. We have our own world and that's where I want to stay. Right there with you." He sighed wearily. "So, I guess what I'm trying to say here is just…" he clenched his eyes shut and sagged against me, "Just don’t give up on me, okay? Not ever."

"I won't," I told him. "I promise."

"Fuck." A violent shudder racked through his huge frame. "I know this ain't the time or place, but I just –" His lips crashed down on mine; hard, warm, and entirely welcome.

Every fear, thought, notion, and worry I had was washed away when his tongue plunged into my mouth, stroking mine with passionate reverence, drowning me in the familiar taste of mint.

Moaning into his mouth, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Please," I begged against his lips, unsure of what the hell I was begging for, but knowing I never wanted him to stop. "Sketch, please…"

"Fucking love you, Ro," he groaned into my mouth as his lips attacked mine almost viciously. "Want you like no one else."

"Me too." Whimpering into his mouth, I bit down hard on his bottom lip, hungry for more of him – dying forallof him. "Oh God." Frantic to feel his skin on mine, I ripped and tore at his hoodie, desperate to justhavehim. "Please, Sketch, I need you so bad."

"I want you, Ro. I wantinyou. So fucking bad." He sounded conflicted, wary, and reluctantly excited. "But here? In the middle of this fucking mayhem?" He shook his head and blew out a pained breath. "It's too dangerous…"

"I don’t care," I breathed. "I need to feel you in me."

His eyes flashed with hungered uncertainty. "Here?"

We were both marked in crime.

Both bruised and bloodied.

I got it now.

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