Page 83 of Wild Card

“You saved her life. Like a hero.”

“She’s family.”

She’s family… a simple proclamation that speaks volumes.

He’s a born fighter and protector.

Abe’s statement from weeks ago replays in my head.

I swipe at my cheeks, knowing my face is a wreck, but the tears won’t stop. Shame fills me and my mouth takes on a mind of its own.

“I didn’t love Joseph. When the truth was exposed, that much was obvious. It was my mom and sister who broke my heart. Then the embarrassment set in.”

“Explains a lot about that scene at the hospital.”

“Even with them out of my life, it was easier to beat myself up for being stupid.” I stop, then decide to give him the entire truth. “But never did I feel like I did this morning, seeing and hearing you and Rowan. It was like the world was closing in. I can’t be second-choice.”

“You’re my only goddamned choice.”

At his words, all the hurt and confusion evaporates. I rush forward, launching myself around him. He rocks back, steadying us right as my mouth covers his.

My tongue plunders between his lips. He grabs my ass, growling down my throat as I pour my apology into the kiss. Stroke for stroke, our tongues battle for control until we’re both breathless.

He spins, pressing me against the wall. One of his hands threads through my hair, slanting my head and delving deeper. I whimper, grinding down, feeling the hardness against my thigh.

“Fuck, baby, gotta stop that,” he groans into my mouth.

“No, I want this. I want you.”

“Not fucking you against a wall the first time.”

“I’m not complaining.”

He twirls again, and in two strides my back hits the bed and his hard body is pressing me to the bed. His hips dig into mine, his erection hitting almost the perfect spot. I shift, bringing my pelvis flush, and moan when he pivots forward.

God, that feels so good.

He stills. Did I say that out loud?

“Swear to God, Willow, need you to stop this.”

“No, I’m done stopping this.”

He growls, his mouth moving against mine at a bruising pace. I try to keep up but give over control when his hand slides up my shirt and cups my breast. He thumbs across my hardened nipple, and I have no choice but to tear away and arch into his touch.

“Please.” I barely recognize my plea.

He braces up, searching my face. His gorgeous eyes are a shade of the sky, full of hunger, but still unsure.

It hits me, he looked at Rowan with affection, but not passion.

The way he’s looking at me is so much more.

More than anyone has ever before.

Like I’m precious to him.

Even cherished.

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