Page 53 of The Oscar Escape
He gnashed his teeth together.
“Oscar,” she whispered, “I’m not your mom. Watching over me like I’m made of glass and could shatter at any moment won’t bring her back. And pushing me away because you don’t want to love me makes no sense because you’re here.” She removed the Havenmatch Island cap and ran her hands through her hair. “I’m asking you this one more time. What are we doing on Havenmatch Island? What do youreallywant from me?”
She was right to be confused. His brain told him he wasn’t worthy of love because he’d failed his mother, but his heart—a heart that beat for Aria and Aria alone—thwarted his efforts to cut her off completely. It was his heart that had made him scour the internet for photos and video clips. It was his heart that had forced him to get into his truck and drive east to catch up with her tour. It was his fucking heart that compelled him to throw her over his shoulder and whisk her away to this island—an island that had been his secret place. His one refuge. Not even his dad or Charlotte knew what Havenmatch Island meant to him. And it was his heart that told him to tell Etta and Del Alden that Aria was his wife.
And his heart was at it again, beating like a jackhammer. He could feel every cell in his body vibrating. He released the railing and wrapped his hand around her wrist, anchoring himself to her. “You really want to know what I want from you?”
“Yes,” she answered with a pained breath.
“I’ll tell you. But there’s something you need to know before I begin.”
“Okay,” she breathed.
God help him. This was it. He’d dreaded and dreamed of this moment. But he had to make her understand the gravity of the situation. He tightened his grip on her slender wrist. “Once I speak these words, we can never go back to being friends.”
Chapter11
OSCAR
Oscar studied the face of the woman who, try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself from loving. When he looked at her, it was as if he were flipping through the pages of a well-worn scrapbook. He saw Aria in snippets and clips like a movie montage. He pictured her with a flashlight in her hands, illuminating her face when they used to play flashlight tag as kids with Sebastian and Phoebe. He saw her as a teenager at the piano with the light filtering through the window, framing her in a spotlight of sunshine. He heard her laugh, heard her humming a tune as she absentmindedly twisted a lock of hair around her finger. He’d cataloged millions of moments that had led him to this island, this safe haven, this sweet escape he desperately wanted to give her.
“Oscar, please,” she pleaded as the storm intensified and sheets of rain pummeled the lighthouse’s glass-enclosed cupola.
He pressed his fingertips to her lips and traced her petal-soft skin. “Here’s what I want from you, Aria Paige-Grant. Everything. I want fucking everything,” he bit out, agony and ecstasy coating his words. “I want to listen to your little sighs when you wake up. I want to be there when a melody comes to you, and you start moving your fingers in the air like you’re playing an invisible piano. I want to cook for you. I want to feed you strawberries and watch you lick the sugary juice from your lips. I want every damn person on this planet to know you’re mine—to know that you’ve always been mine, and you always will be mine. I want to possess you, body and soul.” Slowly, he skimmed his hands down her torso, then in one fluid motion, he gripped her hips, lifted her into the air, and rested her ass on the railing. Her legs parted, and he held her close, pressing his hard length between her thighs. “I want you naked,” he growled. “I want to touch you. I want to wrap my arms around you and feel the beat of your heart—and know it beats for me. I want to kiss you until I can’t feel my lips. I want to taste every inch of your body. I want to thrust my cock inside you and watch you take every inch of me.” Her pupils dilated as she inhaled a shaky breath. He leaned in and brushed his lips against her earlobe. “And I want to make you come so hard, you’ll scream my name and never be able to get off without thinking of me.”
“Wow,” she breathed.
“I told you there was no going back,” he bit out through gritted teeth.
She touched his cheek. “I don’t want to go back, but I need to confess something before we move forward.”
“I’m listening.”
She dropped the ball cap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He felt her warm breath against his neck. “I already think about you when I touch myself.”
Desire flooded his system as his inner caveman reveled in her admission. “Good, because I’m going to kiss you now, and then I’ll make good on my promise to have you calling out my name.”
“Wait,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Anxiety panged in his chest. Had he scared her with his admission? “What is it?”
She touched her lips. “Our first kiss ruined me for anyone else.” She paused and gave a minute shake of her head. “That’s not it. What I mean is that it left me wanting you. And it made something clear to me. Something I’d always known but hadn’t allowed myself to acknowledge.”
“And what’s that?”
She smiled, and the warmth in her expression eased his nerves. “Back in grade school, even though I wanted to kick that bully’s ass, my heart has belonged to you since you stepped in front of me and kept me from getting in trouble.”
He could still recall the shock of pain that radiated through his shin when he’d intercepted Aria’s kick. “The second-grade switcheroo was your love-match reckoning?”
She chuckled, but then her expression grew serious. “A part of me had known that you would be there for me—like you’d move mountains to make me happy.”
“I would do anything for you.”
“I know,” she whispered with a calm easiness he hadn’t seen in her in years.
He cupped her face in his hands. “Now, if you don’t have any further objections, I’d like to kiss the woman I love for the second time.”
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Would you like that?”
