Page 103 of The Hero Within
"Like your hands on my skin?"
He started with her feet. Eden groaned as she slumped facedown on the bed. "That feels.... Oh, God."
"Better than sex?" he teased.
"Maybe."
Depending on the situation. Right now, it was a definite yes. Sex seemed too energetic. Too much work. Maybe when she got some sleep, it might hold more interest.
He moved slowly up her calves, his touch easing the strain from her muscles. It was a pity she never got to enjoy it.
Within a minute, her eyes had flickered shut, and she tumbled into sleep.
Chapter Twenty
Johnny jerked awake,his heart in his throat and Cane's cigar burning holes in his back. A shadow moved over the top of him, and he reacted without thought, slamming his assailant onto the bed beneath him, and locking an arm around their throat as they cried out—
A woman.
The scent of her soap flooded through him.
Eden.
Mierda. A chill ran all the way through him as he let her go. "Angel?" he managed to croak, heart beating a million miles an hour.
She flopped onto her side, a slim hand curling around her throat.
He wanted to touch her. Wanted to hold her. But his hands were shaking so badly he could barely prop himself up on his knuckles, and he was terrified if he did touch her, he might forget where he was again.
"I'm okay," she panted, her eyes forming little black holes in the night as she looked up at him in a manner that seemed to see straight through him. "Are you all right?"
Johnny nodded. "Best not to touch me when I'm dreaming."
"That wasn't a dream," she said slowly, pushing her way upright. "That was a nightmare."
He had to get up. Had to start moving. There was a metallic taste in his mouth and a strange ringing in his ears. He forced himself to feel the carpet beneath his feet as he slid from the bed, to think of nothing beyond the sensation of it. Cracking the window open, he settled onto the seat nestled there, the cool breeze skittering over his face and washing away the sins of the past.
The wind traced cold fingers over his damp chest and hair. Sweat. It slicked down his spine and dampened the edge of his briefs.
"Want to talk about it?" Eden asked softly, watching him from the bed, her bent knees tenting the sheets.
No. His throat felt full of angry wasps. "I'm so sorry. I didn't— I thought you were someone else."
Eden watched him over the top of his knees, and he sensed the moment she opened her mouth to ask—and then didn't.
Because he was the one who'd slammed the doors shut in her face each and every time she brought it up.
He cleared his throat. "Want to join me?"
She kept her expression neutral as she slid from the bed, but there was a certain knowing sort of sympathy in her eyes he shied away from. He reached out a hand instead and dragged her into his lap. Eden's weight and warmth broke the chill, and he rested his chin on her shoulder, closing his eyes for a brief second as he tried to compose himself.
"Bad dreams?"
Always.
Outside the city lights gleamed like a thousand stars. Not quite dawn, by the look of it. Johnny's arms tightened around her. "Yeah."
"Tell me about him," she whispered. "Not for my sake, Johnny, but for yours. You can't keep this all locked up inside you. It's not healthy."
