Page 75 of Through the Fire
He gave her a sideways smile. “I’m not surprised you like superhero movies.”
“Yeah.” She snuggled into her corner of the couch, tucking her blanket around her. “I’m not subtle.”
After starting the movie, he dimmed the lights, and the music drowned out the sound of Justice’s soft snores and the howling wind outside. Glancing over at Wes, Kit smiled and focused on the screen again. Being full and warm and entertained and this close to an interesting guy was much better than fighting her way through a snowstorm. The day had started rough, but it was turning out to be pretty doggone perfect.
* * *
Wes woke with a start, his body jerking in place as he tried to figure out where he was. Just as he realized he was on his couch in the tower, overhead lights dimmed and the screen down but off, something else caught his attention. There was a warm weight draped over his chest and along his side.
Kit. Even before he remembered the events of the evening, he recognized her smell—cinnamon and well-maintained leather, with a hint of something minty from her shampoo. He blinked at the dim ceiling, not wanting to shift even a little, worried that the moment she woke, she’d realize that she could be wrapped around another man who wasn’t frozen in awed indecision by the press of her clothed body.
She sighed, making a sleepy grumbling sound that brought an instant smile to his face. He couldn’t stay still anymore. If this was accidental cuddling, and she’d wake up to pull away and never come close to him again, he didn’t want to waste this opportunity. Moving slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her more firmly against his chest.
It was bliss, but uncertainty nagged at him, making him wonder if he was doing something wrong. If she’d been awake, would she have pushed him away? Was he taking advantage of her sleeping state to steal a hug she’d never have offered him if she’d had a choice?
“Kit?” he whispered, needing her to make the decision, for her to move away or not. It felt too good to hold her for it to be tarnished by worry. “Kit, wake up.”
She squirmed against him, fighting the return to consciousness, wiggling and squirming and turning her head back and forth under his chin. He could feel the second that clarity returned, because she jerked her head up, nearly clipping him in the jaw as she did so.
“Wes?” Her sleep-roughened voice had a sexy burr to it that he immediately wanted to hear again. “Sorry. Was I climbing you as I slept? I have a bad habit of aggressively sleep-cuddling.”
“Yes, but I didn’t mind.” Wes struggled to find the best way to ask and decided that he’d just be honest. It seemed the easiest, although also the scariest. “Sorry to wake you up, but I wanted to make sure that you knew it was me.”
She studied his face intently, and he wondered if she realized that they were still pressed together from the chest down. A slow smile stretched across her face. “I knew it was you.”
“It wasn’t just auto-cuddling with the nearest warm body, then?”
Blinking at him, she slowly lost her smile, although the look in her eyes was hard to read. Affectionate? Warm? Warmly affectionate? “You’re so much more than a warm body.”
He didn’t know how to respond. It felt so fragile, this heated peace between them, so intense, yet gentle, and he worried about destroying that feeling by saying the wrong thing. In his experience, the chance of him blurting out something ridiculous was about ninety percent. It would be best, he decided, not to risk it. Instead, he just looked at her, enjoying their closeness and the press of their bodies.
Her expression changed, and the air between them suddenly became fully charged. It was hard to breathe, and then he forgot about oxygen entirely as Kit leaned closer, her lips opening ever so slightly. Everything slowed down, and a dim corner of his brain thought he should be taking notes, since they’d obviously figured out the trick to manipulating time.
It seemed like forever and no time at all before Kit’s mouth was inches above his, looking full and soft and lush, even in the half light of the overhead fixtures. She paused, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to know what her mouth felt like on his.
Lunging up, he kissed her.
They both froze at the contact. Even though he’d been expecting it for what had felt like an eternity, the kiss still startled him into stillness. Her lips really were as soft and yielding as they looked, and they seemed to have an electrical short, judging by the charge jolting through him. This was a first for him—not the kissing, but his fiery, intense reaction to such a delicate touch.
He needed more. Reaching up, he cupped her cheeks and urged her down farther. When she went willingly, deepening the kiss enthusiastically, a thrill cut through him. As they kissed, exploring each other’s mouths, Wes’s arousal grew until he felt like he was burning from the inside out. Each touch, each nip, each kiss made him more frantic with need.
He slid his fingers into her hair, feeling the silky slide of the strands as they fell around them in a heavy curtain. Running his hands over her head and down her neck and then to her shoulders and upper back, he marveled at the contrast between her soft skin and the strength of the muscles underneath. She was small but so powerful, and he was both amazed and honored that he was here with her, kissing her, feeling her in a way he’d never thought he’d have a chance to do.
When she nipped his lower lip, he forgot everything in the world except this moment. Every part of his brain—even the one that kept him up at night by constantly spewing ideas and solutions and doubts—focused on the feel of the woman above him, of her lips and tongue, of her hands in his hair and her hip pressing into his side.
It wasn’t enough. The more they kissed and touched and explored, the more he needed her. With a groan, he rolled them over, barely remembering in time that they were on the narrow couch. He managed to turn so that they ended up still on the couch, but with her beneath him this time. Wes held himself on his elbows and knees, not wanting to crush her into the cushions.
The movement distracted him enough that he managed to break the kiss, although the sight of her swollen lips and the way her chest moved up and down as she panted for breath lured him back. He leaned closer, about to kiss her again, but somehow he managed to resist the urge to press his lips against hers.
“I can put the bed down,” he said, his voice so thick and deep with desire that he hardly recognized it. There was a light thump behind them, and he turned to see that the bed had unfolded, dropping out of the wall obediently. He turned back to see that Kit was smiling. Somehow, seeing those lips curve made them even more tempting than they’d been before. With a huge effort, he managed to keep from kissing her again. “Guess I said that a little too loudly.”
Her laugh was just a puff of air, but her eyes were smiling at him. “The bed is a good idea.”
He swallowed, his body dropping to press down on hers instinctually. “Both of us?”
Her laughter faded as heat replaced it, and she pushed her hips up to meet his, making him groan. “Yes.”
His eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the thick need she’d put into that single word. “I’m not rushing you?” He had to be sure. The further they went, the harder it would be to stop, and he wanted to make sure she didn’t have any reservations. It could be hard for him to read people, to know what they were really thinking, so he wanted to ask, to put it out there in words that couldn’t be misread or misinterpreted. It was so intense for him, and he wanted her so badly, but he needed her to be just as sure. He couldn’t ruin this. It was too important, too critical for his happiness to have this with Kit. Even though what they had was new, he already knew that to be true. Life without her would be empty.
