Page 125 of Savage Hearts
I draw a breath, pick up the bag from where I dropped it by my feet, and open the door.
Except for the guttering fire, it’s dark inside the cabin. Dark and warm, quiet and still. I stand there for a moment, breathing air scented of her.
Even her scent is arousing.
I’ve heard the natural smell of a woman’s skin described as sweet or floral, or something outdoorsy like sunshine or rain. But Riley smells different. There’s no food, flowers, or candy on earth that could describe it.
I can’t describe it, either, except to say that she smells like home.
And it’s already a disaster. I know it is. The whole thing. Her, me, what we’re doing together. If I didn’t already know, this short time apart from her proved it.
This time, because I’d already tasted her, being away from her drove me mad.
We’re the musicians on the deck of theTitanic,blissfully unaware as we play our violins that there’s a giant fucking iceberg right around the corner.
One of us is unaware, anyway. But she’ll make it onto a lifeboat. I’ll get her onto one, no matter what.
I’ll still be playing that violin when the ship goes down.
What started as revenge has turned into something far more dangerous. Something that will probably end me.
The worst part is, I don’t even care.
She came into my life at the moment when I thought I had nothing left, and filled every dark, empty space with sunshine.
Stupid, bright, horrible sunshine, which I fucking hate. Except I don’t anymore.
Now all I want to do is lie down naked in the sun and bask in the healing glow of its rays.
Fuck. I can hardly stand to listen to myself. I’m goddamn pathetic.
I walk slowly through the cabin to the bedroom, my steps silent on the floor. Outside the bedroom door, I pause again to gather myself.
It’s so fucking hard not to kick it down and crash inside. It’s almost impossible.
“Mal?”
My heart. Jesus, my heart. That voice of hers. So soft and sweet. So hopeful.
She’s in there, awake in my bed, waiting for me. She felt me, felt my energy like I can always feel hers. It’s nonsensical that we can feel each other through a closed door, but we do.
God, we fucking do. My chest aches with it.
I turn the knob and push open the door, and there she is. Sitting up in bed. Covers pulled up to her chin.
Staring at me like I’m her reason for everything.
I drop the bag, cross the room, fall to my knees next to the bed, and pull her into my arms. I bury my face in her neck and groan.
She hugs me back hard, trembling.
We stay like that as the rain grows louder, peppering the windows, drumming a plaintive song against the roof.
“I missed you.”
It’s barely a whisper, but it makes my soul burn. “I know.”
“Please don’t leave me alone again.”
