Page 32 of Make You Love Me
His hand presses into my hip—the crutch he needs while his energy surges. When he leans over and rests his forehead on mine, relief pours over my body like water, and I give into it.
“You’re the best distraction I could ever ask for,” he whispers, his voice thick and raspy. “I need to kiss you again.”
“Jordan.” I breathe in, unable to find the words to deny him. How could I when he needs me? When that’s what his girlfriend would do? When my body longs to feel him?
His head tilts and his lips take mine before I have a chance to pull away. Not that I could when he’s melting every ounce of control I thought I had. My heart aches for the fear he must experience every time his healing takes a step backward. My body yearns to feel him again. My brain sends conflicting messages the more we’re together.
Giving in to any of what I’m feeling seems too dangerous for us both. I draw back before my hands go rogue and drop his shorts, after all.
“Wow. For someone who almost passed out, you seem plenty alert,” I tease, trying to settle my pulse and reset my thoughts on the task instead of my urges.
“That’s what your body and scent do to me.”
“My scent?”
He leans closer to sniff my hair. “Vanilla and honey. It makes me very hor…hungry,” he corrects, making me grin.Join the club.
“Well, the bagel and cream cheese will take care of that problem. The rest is impossible.”
“I thoroughly disagree. Sex with my gorgeous girlfriend might surcharge my recovery.”
“Or make it worse.” I’m thinking about his fragile heart when I say it. Giving in to our urges will only hurt him more when he discovers the lies. “Come on. Let’s get you ready.”
Thankfully, the one and only bathroom is a few wobbles away.
“I’ll wait out here in case you need me.” I grab the doorknob, but before I can close it, his hand covers mine.
“I will always need you with or without injuries.”
All I can do is flash a grin, hoping it looks more like a gesture of appreciation than guilt, and shut him inside. After retrieving the wheelchair, I wait and listen outside the bathroom. As long as I hear movement—a flush, running water, toothbrush over teeth—there’s no need to worry about his safety. Everything else is a different story, but I’ll have plenty of time to fret over it all later.
Soon, he reappears in the doorway with a broad smile. “I’m ready for that adventure you promised me.”
I motion a hand over the wheelchair. “Your chariot awaits, sir.”
Chapter 9
Jordan
It took just one touch of Nora’s soft skin to make me forget about the disturbing vision I had at the restaurant two days ago. Feeling how her body reacts to me, seeing the desire in her eyes, tasting her soft lips, I no longer care about the pictures my sick mind conjures up. She’s in my arms and all mine.
Any trepidation I saw in her before must have been from fear. The same would happen whenever we’d reconnect before my deployments. We’d have fun and give in to each other’s desires until my departure loomed closer. Then, the notion that I might never return would cross her mind, causing her to shut down. She’d let the unknown consume her even when we were keeping our relationship casual, and especially when it was more.
I almost died in the car crash, and I’m sure her reaction to that involved more than fear—anger, hurt, guilt—and I can’t blame her. Dating someone in the military is terrifying. The one at home can go months without hearing from the other, especially if they’re deployed. And there’s no guarantee they’ll return the same person they were when they left—physically or mentally. If they return at all.
For those reasons and because she witnessed the horrors of losing someone to war through Sydney, she fought against us becoming a couple for years. Frankly, I’m surprised she’s acting as normal as she is right now. Must be the pity she feels for my situation. Her closing off will creep in as I heal and my return to the base grows near.
“We’re here,” she announces and turns off the car engine.
I take in the large stone building and grounds within view outside my window. Fall is abundant in the surrounding trees. Red, orange, and yellow leaves litter the ground underneath, but I see nothing to tell me where she’s taken me.
“Your first bucket list trip is about to be crossed off,” she says, tossing open her door and climbing out before I can investigate further. Soon, she’s beside my door with the wheelchair, motioning for me to join her.
My body is still screaming at me for moving when I see the sign by the entrance: Blue Sky Winery. “Are you planning to get me tipsy so we can party right tonight?”
“Not exactly. The restrictions on your prescriptions said you can have up to two glasses of wine occasionally. I doubt you’ll get a buzz from that.”
“Party pooper.”
