“Too late. Just give me them. I want them, Luxe.”
She took in a big lungful of air. She’d told him already in Spanish, back in that building, it felt weeks ago now, her foggy brain was so tired. Resting her forehead to Nathan’s, her voice was surprisingly steady. “You know, there are moments … people. There are people who change you. Who save you, really, from yourself, from a life that didn’t feel right, kind of like you’re wearing the wrong socks and just don’t realize it. These people make you question everything, thoughts and feelings and ask yourself; do I want more? Yes. I do. You made me want more.” Gray eyes, bloodshot with his pain, penetrated down to her soul, she felt him there, soothing even as he lay a more subdued man than she was used to. Weak or not, she had a feeling Nathan would still handle shit if he had to. Her kidnapper taking care of her in the way he knew how. “I love you, Nathan.Te quiero, mi secuestrador.”I love you, my kidnapper. That’s how she thought of him now. As hers and kidnapper was a term of endearment only they would understand. It meant she loved him beyond everything, even their shady beginning.
A great breeze of air left his chest and for a second she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing until his forehead comes to hers. “Never stop.”
“I won’t.” she swore. “I won’t.”
“You’re mine.”
“And you’re mine.”
He laughed a little, tangling a hand in her hair, speaking against her lips. “Fucking A. Had to chase my girl until she caught me. It was worth it, love. So fucking worth it. I love the fuck out of you.”
“I love you, Nathan.”
Was he aware of the beauty of his hands? She wondered as he greedily snatched her closer, brought her in as if he too couldn’t stand even an inch of distance between them, as though it had been weeks and not hours. She picked up a hand, so torn and red and kissed each knuckle.
Wicked hands that could rip pleasure out of her.
Strong hands that protected her.
Loving hands that worshiped.
These hands had stolen her in the beginning and then seduced her and after that, these hands she loved so dearly kept him alive.
Luxe kissed each finger in turn and found him grinning at her. “Do you need a minute, love?”
“I need a lot of minutes, kidnapper. I was thinking a lifetime of them,” his chest heaved. “If you’re agreeable to a deal between us.”
“Yes.” He gruffed deeply. “Fuck yeah.”
Luxe smiled and produced a long thin gold chain from her pocket. She saw the second he recognized it, his eyes flashed. “You thought I’d forgotten or was lying? I’ve had it this whole time and delayed giving it back, because.” He kissed her suddenly, his hand wrapped around the back of her nape, holding her steady. Those beautiful hands once again treating her with love and ownership. He had always been possessive. Always would be, probably, and she loved it. It felt kind of nice to own a kidnapper in return. To know Nathan would turn himself inside out to please her, oh, now that was just a wicked rush.
Love was their shared motivation.
His love was dazzling. She felt windswept most days, like she was walking around in a dream.
His love dazzled her.
She would make him happy. This was her new goal in life.
Not only to steal nice things and keep them for herself.
Happiness with a man who tracked and stole her heart.
“It doesn’t matter, love.”
“I thought, if I held onto it, it meant I would see you again and again.” There was his gorgeous smile. He took the chain from her and began fastening it around her neck. She protested. “But…it’s yours.”
“It was my mom’s, the only thing I had of hers. Not even sure why I kept it. But it brought you to me, didn’t it? I guess now I know why I kept it. Now it’s my girl’s.”
“Nathan…”
He grinned and kissed her lips. Sucked on the bottom one making her whimper when he let it go far too soon. “Romance has nothing on me. I’m forgiven, right? We start fresh here and now. Just us, Luxe. I want you to move in.”
“I love you.” It was the easiest decision. “Yes.”
“I love you, back,” another lip nip. “I fucking love you.” He sucked on her tongue, she chased his and did some of her own, their bodies pressed together so tightly she could feel the pound of his heart under her hand.