Page 65 of Hostile Love
He narrows his eyes, his face unreadable when I press my palm over his thumping heart, sandwiching my blood between our connected flesh.
“However, I’m standing here as Daniela…a girl looking up at the guy she’s fallen in love with.”
He bats his lashes, computing my statement. While he stays silent, his lips slowly lift into a flirty half-smile.
The transformation is remarkable. A change in his whole expression, like the flame behind his eyes, is turbo charged.
“I want to make sure I heard you correctly,” he says, thumbing his plump bottom lip. “Could you repeat that last part?”
I roll my eyes and smile, his brighter mood infectious.
“I knew it at Di Rossi’s palace too…while I fought the security guys in the basement. All I could think of was protectingyou. That’s kinda rare for me, considering I don’t trust anyone, you know?”
He stares into my eyes and takes a confident step closer, pressing himself against me. Through my shorts, I feel his hard thickness hit my pelvis.
My body tingles all over.
“When I was hurt, I put my life in your hands, and you took care of me.” I finish.
This guy knows how his presence sucks all the air from the room and affects me on a cellular level. A little breathy, I press my spine into the wall and meet his intense chestnut eyes, so full of fire.
Clearly enjoying the slight hint of my nervousness, he dips his head lower, causing a drip of water to glide from his hairline and roll past his temple.
“Well, since we’re getting real, I should probably be honest with you too.”
Nudging my chin up with his knuckles, he brings his mouth a breath away from mine.
“I love you more than you love me. It’s that simple.”
I close my eyes and inhale the smell of his fresh, clean skin.
“It’s not a competition,” I say softly, smiling a little.
“No, it’s not. It’sveryreal,” he announces, his husky voice full of sincerity. “If it was, though, I’d win.”
He plants a kiss on the tip of my nose, his lips lingering there and his minty breath soft on my face. It’s not enough. The burning heat unfurling within me won’t settle.
My love for him runs too deep.
I used to enjoy my own company, but that alone time quickly became uncomfortable loneliness after he left me in Colombia.
Not that I blame him for that. I could see the hurt etched all over his face. And I wondered if he’d seen the same pain written across mine.
I didn’t want him to leave. Not only because I didn’t trust the men who took him away. I wanted him to tell me we’d work it out––somehow.
The second he turned away from me, I missed him. When he climbed into the SUV, I missed him. And after I’d marched indoors and found the bullets outside my bedroom, I missed him.
The memory of us echoed from nightfall right through to the next day when I’d stood before my father, realizing I would always miss Matheus.
He matters––tome.
And I decided I’d never stop trying to protect him.
“I’ve missed you, Mat,” I say, rising to my tiptoes. “So much.”
When he crashes his mouth over mine, all the pent-up frustration and desire I’d been holding onto releases. His tongue tastes of peppermint and his skin smells of light citrus and vetiver.
I groan into his mouth and finally let go, shoving my fingers into his hair and kissing him hard.
