Page 59 of Flirting With Forever
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“Trust me, this conversation will be easier if we don’t stay near a bed. We’re going upstairs to talk,” he said, his long strides making quick work of the space leading to the stairwell.
“I can walk, you caveman!”
“But would you?” Yeah, that got another screech of frustration and a hard pinch on his back. To which he swatted her behind and earned a shriek.
“You’ve lost your freaking mind! Put me down!”
They were almost to the top.
“I’m going to puke on you, and you’ll deserve it for being a neanderthal!”
He knew she was lying, but just in case she wasn’t, he made quick work of the last few steps and lowered her to her feet, gently crowding her through the open door at the top because he’d stopped locking it long ago, and then shut it behind them.
“Gage—”
“Sit. Down.”
Oh, that fired her up even more. Her eyes widened to the size of sand dollars and blazed with a fierceness of a red-hot temper that coincided with the copper in her hair.
“I am not a dog you can order to sit.”
He stepped forward and crowded her until her back was against the opposite wall, arms bracketed on either side of her as he lowered his head, stared into her eyes and willed her to see the fear and frustration he’d felt when Dawson had sent that text.
Her family had found her. Was obviously trying to frighten her into returning home. And she was ready to run as a result.
He felt it.
Knew it in his gut.
Saw it in every line of her body.
Sloane didn’t break eye contact, glaring right back at him as he shifted his gaze to her lips. They were parted, taking in each gasping breath that caused her chest to meet his. He forced himself to nix the urge to drag her down the hall and tie her to his bed for safekeeping. Instead, he managed to meet her gaze and found that in the time he’d spent so close to her, her gorgeous greens had gone a bit hazy, her breathing faster now than it had been when he was carrying her up the stairs.
Unable to help himself, he lowered his head even more, slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away and then somehow—God only knew how—stopping just short of contact. “Tell me no, or I’m going to kiss you, Merida, and I’m not going to stop until we come to terms about this.”
She blinked at the warning, but no words emerged. If anything, she looked just as desperate and needy for the contact, for him to act, as he felt.
His pulse sounded loud in his ears as he finally closed the distance and took her lips in a blazing, open-mouthed kiss that settled something deep in his soul. Because here, now, in this moment, she was with him, and she was okay. Safe.
His.
It took less than a heartbeat before she released a soft sound and twined her arms around his neck, less than a second for her to return the kiss with all the enthusiasm and passion he felt himself.
They stayed like that, him pressing her to the wall as one kiss blended into another and another, every ounce of fear and frustration, curiosity and chemistry, temptation and hesitation, threaded into each and every touch and stroke and caress.
Finally, she broke contact and pushed at his shoulders, lowered her head to his chest to deny him her mouth. He cradled her head in his palms and kissed her hair but didn’t move, taking the same deep breaths she did, to slow the intensity and come back to reality.
“We can’t do this,” she whispered, the sound barely audible. “It’ll just…make things worse. Harder.”
Harder when she disappeared? He freed his hands from her hair and leaned down until he could hook his arms behind her thighs and lift her up, ignoring her gasp and scramble to grab onto his shoulders for balance.
He carried her with him to the oversized chair opposite the couch and sat down. And while it would probably be smarter to have more distance between them, he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. “Talk to me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and scrunched her nose as though pained and fighting tears at the thought. Combined with the freckles and the kiss-wild hair, he found himself memorizing her, despite his fear of her leaving. Or maybe because of it. He’d do everything he could to stop her. Keep her. But if she chose to go anyway…
Mia’s words came back to him about that stupid quote. To let something go and see if it came back to you on its own.
