Page 132 of Ruined

"You need to stop blaming yourself," he says. "Ivan started this. Not you."

"But—"

"No." He reaches for me, his hands cupping my face. "This isn't on you. And you don't need to be afraid."

"How can I not be?" I say. "They killed my father. They'll come for my mother, for Jessica?—"

"They won't get near either of them." His thumbs brush away tears I didn't realize had fallen. "The Ferettis are protecting your family now. And I'm protecting you."

I shake my head. "You can't promise that. You don't know what they'll do next."

"You're right. I don't." His honesty surprises me. "But I know we'll handle whatever comes. Everything will be settled, sooner or later."

"You can't know that."

"I do." He steps closer, the heat of his body somehow calming the storm inside me. "There's no need for you to fret over things that aren't certain yet."

His lips brush my forehead, so gently it makes my heart ache.

"What is certain?" I ask, my voice barely audible.

"This." Noah's mouth finds mine, soft at first, then deeper. "Us."

I shouldn't believe him. I shouldn't trust the comfort he offers. But when his arms wrap around me I lean into him anyway, letting his kisses chase away the fear, if only for a moment.

"I won't let them hurt you," he says against my lips. "That's the only certainty that matters."

I feel something shift inside me as Noah's lips touch mine. All the grief, fear and confusion suddenly transforms into a desperate hunger. I need to escape the thoughts spinning in my head—my father's murder, the Russians, the constant danger. I need to feel something else. Anything else.

I press my body against Noah's, kissing him harder, more desperately. My fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer. I need this. I need him.

"Evelyn," he says against my mouth, his voice rough. "Are you sure about this? After everything that's happened today?—"

I don't let him finish. I push him backward until his legs hit the edge of the bed and he sits down hard. His eyes widen slightly, surprised by my forcefulness.

"I don't want to think anymore," I tell him, my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands. "I just want to feel something that isn't pain or fear."

Noah gazes at me, his dark eyes intense. "I don't want you to regret this tomorrow."

"The only thing I'll regret is wasting time talking." I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head in one fluid motion. The cool air hits my skin, raising goosebumps across my chest and arms.

Noah's breath catches. His gaze travels slowly over me, heating my skin wherever it touches.

I step between his legs, reaching behind to unhook my bra. It falls away and Noah's hands immediately move to my waist, steadying me.

"You're sure?" he asks one more time, his thumbs tracing circles on my bare skin.

In answer I push him back onto the mattress. His body yields to mine and I climb on top of him, straddling his hips. The friction makes me gasp.

Noah's hands slide up my sides, his touch both gentle and possessive. I lean down to kiss him again, my hair falling around us like a curtain, shutting out the world.

He sits up suddenly, keeping me in his lap as he pulls his shirt off. The bandage on his chest is a stark reminder of how close I came to losing him but I push the thought away. No more thinking. Just feeling.

His skin is hot against mine and I run my hands over the planes of his chest, careful to avoid his wound. Noah's fingers tangle in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my neck to his mouth.

Noah's lips trail down my neck, his stubble grazing my sensitive skin. I arch against him, desperate for more contact. His hands slide down to unbutton my jeans and I lift my hips to help him pull them off.

"I need you," I say against his ear, not recognizing my own voice—raw and demanding.

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