Page 73 of Driving Him Wild

saying a word. When I was wrung dry, he brushed a kiss against my temple.

‘You were heartbroken and lashed out. That makes you human. If wishing ill on someone actually

guaranteed a desired result, my father would’ve been six feet under the first time I saw bruises on my mother and little sister. Life doesn’t work that way,kæreste. Sometimes the assholes who cause pain get to live long, hopefully miserable lives.’

I raised my head, saw my pain reflected in his eyes. ‘Your father?’

He nodded. ‘I don’t know where he is, but only because I’ve never bothered to find out. The third

time I stood up to him, he went out drinking and never returned. So you see, I was responsible for

driving my parent away too, but I don’t regret it. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I wanted him gone with every fibre of my being.’

I remained silent, unable to do anything but absorb his warmth, his sheer perfection. With his lips still trailing down my face, he reached for the box of tissues sitting on the coffee table.

I plucked out a few, blew my nose and scrubbed away the remainder of my tears. I didn’t feel

whole, would probably never be whole again, but I felt less...tormented, less burdened. The fact that it was Jensen who’d done this to me, for me, triggered a whole new layer of panic. The weight of

what I felt for him terrified me. Everything I’d dreamed of had broken up beneath the pressure of my yearning.

Like a butterfly held too tight, I tended to crush the wings of things that were precious to me. And he was fast becoming precious, right up there with things I didn’t want to lose.

Which brought its own bracing demand. What right did I have to him?

His lips drifted down my cheek, lingered at the corner of my mouth, and I conveniently sidestepped

the questions teeming inside. ‘I look a mess.’

He kissed me firmer, his lips more demanding. ‘No, you look beautiful.’

Blind panic made me turn to him, seal my lips against his. I didn’t want to hear the words. Didn’t

want to open my heart to a promise that would never be fulfilled. The contents of my mother’s letter blazed through my mind, reminding me that I wasn’t enough. I would never be enough.

His arms tightened around me, his eager lips surrendering to mine as I deepened the kiss. I wound

my arms around his neck, repositioned myself so I was astride him on the floor. The blanket gaped

open and his hands slid beneath, gliding down my side to grip my hips, hold me close as we leaned

into the kiss.

Between my legs, he was rock-hard, a thrilling reality, a consuming storm I could drown in, forget

about my emotional turmoil. I shrugged off the blanket completely, my fingers dancing down his

muscled chest to stroke the bulge that promised oblivion.

‘Fuck me, Jensen.’

He shuddered against me. Then he pulled back, just enough to meet my gaze. ‘I’m dying to,min

elskede,but we don’t have a condom down here.’

I didn’t want a reprieve from this madness; didn’t want time and space to thrust me back into the

emotional grinder I’d just been through. So I took a breath. ‘It’s fine. I...’trust you. I barely stopped myself, my heart lurching wildly at the dangerous words I’d almost uttered.

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