Page 43 of Duty Compromised
I stared at the ceiling, hyperaware of every place our bodies touched, even through layers of fabric. This was dangerous. Not the threat against her—I could handle that. But this…whatever this was becoming between us… This could destroy us both if I wasn’t careful.
Charlotte’s breathing evened out, deep and steady against my side. In sleep, all the tension left her face, making her look younger, softer. Vulnerable in a way she’d never allow while awake.
I’d keep her safe. From whoever was trying to hurt her, from the FBI’s demands, from anyone who threatened her.
Even if that meant keeping her safe from myself.
Chapter 12
Charlotte
The soreness in my shoulder pulled me from sleep—a deep ache where the seat belt had caught me yesterday. Then came awareness of the warmth pressed against my back. Arms around me. For a moment, panic flooded my system as I tried to process the unfamiliar sensation.
Male body. In my bed. Holding me.
The memories cascaded back. The car accident. The nightmare that had torn through my sleep, making me relive the impact over and over. Ty’s voice pulling me back to reality. His arms around me as I shook. My plea for him to stay—not on the couch, but here. With me.
After that kiss in my kitchen last night—God, that kiss that had scrambled every logical circuit in my brain—after he’d made me dinner and looked at me like I was more than just a malfunctioning computer that needed debugging, everything had felt wrong and right simultaneously.
When the nightmare tore me from sleep, I’d begged him to stay. Not on the couch where it would have been appropriate, professional, safe. No, I’d asked him into my bed like some desperate, needy person I didn’t recognize.
He’d maintained boundaries, staying on top of the covers while I’d curled against him, shaking and confused by my own need for physical comfort. I’d never needed anyone before. Never wanted someone’s arms around me. The desire for that contact was foreign, overwhelming, terrifying in its intensity.
My body had betrayed every principle of self-sufficiency I’d built my life on, pressing against him like a frightened child seeking reassurance. Except it wasn’t childlike at all—it was something else entirely, something that made my skin feel too tight and my thoughts scatter like startled birds.
But now what? I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to just lie in his arms. Yes, I liked it—more than I had any logical reason to—but what was the protocol? My analytical brain needed to understand the parameters.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Ty murmured against my hair, voice rough with sleep.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I’ve never… This isn’t…” I took a breath, trying to organize my thoughts into coherent sentences. “I’ve never actually slept beside someone before. The actual sleeping part, I mean.”
He shifted to look down at me, patient, waiting for me to find the words.
“My experience with…physical intimacy is extremely limited.” Heat crept up my neck, but I forced myself to continue. “There was one man in college. Once. But that was more for empirical research purposes than anything else.”
His eyebrows rose. “Empirical research?”
“To see what all the fuss was about.” The heat now crawled up to my face. “It wasn’t worth repeating. The whole thing lasted approximately twelve minutes, and we definitely didn’t sleep in each other’s arms afterward. What would be the purpose of that?”
Ty chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Sometimes it’s nice to just lie in someone’s arms. No purpose needed.”
“That seems inefficient.”
“Not everything needs to be efficient.” He brushed my cheekbone with his thumb, and the simple touch sent electricity through me. “Some things are just about feeling good.”
The way he looked at me—patient, amused, but with heat underneath—made me brave. “Last night, when you kissed me…”
“Yeah?”
“It was nothing like my previous data point. It was…” I searched for words that weren’t clinical. “I want to do it again.”
“For science, right?” His lips quirked.
“No,” I said honestly. “Because I liked it. Because you make me feel things I don’t have frameworks for.”
“Then how about we try it again?”
He studied me for a moment, then leaned down slowly. This kiss was different from last night’s gentle exploration. This had intent. He tangled his hand in my hair, angle changing to deepen the contact. I made that sound again—the one I’d discovered last night—and his grip tightened.
