Page 133 of Bones
“It’d still be worth it,” he whispered, and then he kissed me.
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He kissed me like he’d been dying, and I was the only thing who could save him. It wasn’t like the gentle, soft kisses we shared before. This kiss was hard and desperate like he wanted to devour me. And for the first time in a very long time, maybe the first timeever,I just let go.
I kissed him back just as fiercely, gently nipping at his lip and letting his tongue sweep through my mouth. I wasn’t sure how I’d ended up in his lap, straddling him, but I wasn’t complaining. His cold hands slid up under my jacket and my shirt until they found my bare skin. I jumped at the cold touch, and he stopped.
“This ok?” he murmured against my lips.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Your hands are just cold.”
His lips curled against mine. “Sorry.”
“I’ll warm them up for you,” I added, and he pulled back to grin at me, heat sparking in his eyes.
He helped me slide my jacket down my shoulders and then returned to slide his hands across the skin of my stomach. They were freezing but warmed against my heated skin. I could feel the calluses on his palms, but his touch was so gentle it made my eyes prickle.
"Tell me to stop at any time," he said. "If you feel uncomfortable?—"
I interrupted him by finally getting my hands in his hair just like I’d wanted, sliding my fingers through the soft waves before gathering a handful at the back of his head and tugging. He groaned against my mouth in a way that made heat pool in my stomach. His hands traveled upward under my shirt, tracing the shape of my body like he wanted to memorize me. When he palmed my breasts, those calluses scraped against my nipples and I whimpered.
“Gods, Bones,” he said in a low groan.
A brief flash of self-consciousness went through me. All of me was small, and the Reapers had made plenty of comments about how I lacked curves. But that unease vanished almost as quickly as it came as his hands roamed the slopes of my breasts. His lips trailed down my jaw to my neck, and I couldn’t even feel the cold anymore, only him. Then I felt his fingers tracing the horrible brand on my chest and I stilled, my cheeks heating with discomfort again.
“I’m sorry,” I found myself saying faintly. “I know it’s so ugly and?—”
He swiftly pulled away so he could meet my gaze. His eyes looked almost black and there was no mistaking the desire there.
“Nothin’ about you is ugly.” He pressed his entire palm flat against the brand on my chest. “Not this.” His other hand traveled around to my back, gently running over the thick healing scars and rough flesh that still ached with pain. “Not this. You don’t ever need to apologize for your scars.”
“But—” I tried to protest, feeling shaky.
“These scars are proof you survived,” he interrupted softly. “That you walked through fire, and you came out the other side. You’re a godsdamned warrior, Bones, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
My eyes welled up and his other hand slid around to my back to gently pull me closer again, his head dipping to press a kiss to the brand on my chest.
“How are you real?” I whispered, my heart so full of joy and want and sorrow and longing that it hurt.
"I'm real," he murmured with a soft smile, straightening so he could kiss my lips again, this time gently. "This is real, darlin'."
“I don’t know if I believe it.”
He smiled against my lips. “Let me try and prove it to you then.” His hands tunneled into my hair, cupping the back of my head and deepening the kiss.
I melted into him, tilting my head to give him better access, my arms twining around his neck, pressing our bodies even closer together. I couldn’t get enough of him, wasn’t sure if I’deverget enough of him. I’d never felt this way from a kiss, so out of control and so steady at the same time. Everything about this felt right,and it made me realize with a sudden clarity that being with Trey would be something new. I’d never been with someone just because Iwantedto be with them. There were no desperate plans in my head, no ulterior motives. It felt like surrendering, but I had no idea a surrender could feel so beautiful. When he pulled back minutes, maybe hours later, a noise of protest escaped my lips. He chuckled.
“Not here,” he murmured. “I want you in a place that’s warm so I can see every beautiful inch of you without worryin’ about you getting frostbite.”
My toes curled inside my boots and I thought of the trading post we planned to sleep at tomorrow night. The heat sparking in his eyes told me he was thinking about it too. I was sitting in his lap, facing him, my legs stretching out behind him. His fingers ran through my hair.
“Your hair is so beautiful,” he said softly. “When you came out of the brothel with Clarity and you had it down, I just about forgot myself.”
My cheeks warmed but in a pleasant, heady way.
His hand left my hair to cradle my face, brushing his thumbs across my cheekbones. “And don’t even get me started on your freckles.”
My blush deepened and he smirked a little when he noticed.
