Page 86 of Almost Ravaged
“We’re here,” he repeats, “so be here.”
A sense of longing pulls at the center of my chest. It’s familiar and it’s foreign and it feels like falling. But as scary as it is to be in the place with him,again, I refuse to pull back. I’m not going to be the reason we can’t seem to take the next step.
I want to trust him.
I want to hope.
Silencing the alarm bells in the back of my mind, I exhale.
We’re here together.
So, like he suggested, I’m going to be here.
“Okay.” With my lip caught between my teeth, I peer up at him and shift closer, positioning myself so our joined hands brush between our bodies.
“Sawyer, Tytus. Let’s go,” Cam yells across the clearing.
I turn and walk backward a few paces, relishing the way his eyes track my moves. I take another step away from him, then smirk.
“What’s that look for?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. Like the weight of this moment is pressing down on him, too. Like he’s just as affected by the potential this night holds.
How long have I wanted this? How many days turned to weeks and weeks turned to years?
My next step backward is larger, increasing the distance between us.
Realization flickers in his expression.
I spin, then, over my shoulder, yell, “Race you to the trailhead.”
I make it a measly ten meters before I’m engulfed in strong arms and lifted off my feet.
My body tenses in response, though not because it hurts.
His arms around me feel incredible. I never want him to let go.
“Put me down.” I squirm and punch my fists into his back, giggling, as he strides forward.
Stilling, he does as I ask, though he doesn’t release me. Pinning my back to his chest, he drags his hands to my hips. He bows his head and exhales, his warm breath ghosting over my skin and tickling my neck. Then his lips are at my ear. “You always did love the chase, mon ange.”
A shiver rolls through me.
I splay my hands over his, trying in vain to turn around so I can face him. “Ty,” I plead, desperate for him to let me out of this hold now that the switch has been flipped.
This isn’t playful anymore. It isn’t fun.
This is real and raw and so damn close to beingmore.
“I’ll let you go, but don’t you dare run away from me again.”
I can hardly breathe as his hold eases up. I spin in his arms and press my hands to his chest to steady myself.
My lungs burn, my breath stalling out, as Tytus bows his head again and slips the large hands that only a moment ago held me captive to my lower back.
“Your friends are watching us,” he whispers, his lips centimeters from mine.
I peek over my shoulder and find several sets of eyes on us.
With a steadying breath, I turn back and wet my lips. “Let them watch.” Chest heaving, my nerve endings lighting up, I tip my head back. “I want you to kiss me.”
