Page 84 of Fire in You

It had been a long recovery from that point.

I remained under observation for nine weeks, reentering the hospital multiple times for the reconstruction parts. It had taken a year for me to leave home and come back to Shepherdstown.

And it had taken six years to fully acknowledge that we both were still standing in Mona’s, stuck in that moment of me walking away and him not following. It was a moment that had lasted too long.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

Wordlessly, I stared at him, realizing we were on the cusp of something I had never believed possible. It was like walking up to the cliff’s edge and staring down. Could I take that leap again? I wanted to try, because I was tired of denying how I felt when I looked at him. I was tired of fighting it. I wanted . . .”I want . . .”

His gaze was bright and endless as he stared up at me. “You want what?”

Air constricted in my throat. “I want to let it all go. I do. And this is still scary as hell for me, but I want to start really living. I want to take risks and I . . . I want you.”

Saying it out loud was like slipping off a too-heavy blanket, one that was rough and itchy. Like opening your eyes and seeing how blue the deepest part of the ocean could be and how bright the sun was when the ground was covered in snow and ice.

Tears blurred my eyes as I whispered the words that made me feel incredibly vulnerable. “I want you, Brock.”

He moved incredibly quickly, snatching the board out of my hand and letting it hit the floor. Grabbing my hands, he hauled me down onto his lap as he sat on the floor. My knees slid on either side of his hips, and when he kissed me, it was like the goodbye kiss from the night before.

Senses spinning all over and mind reeling. I trembled and shook in his arms as he nipped at the corner of my lip and then flicked his tongue over the little bite, soothing it. He coaxed my lips open, keeping the kiss, tasting me—claiming me, but I’d already been claimed by him.

I’d always been his.

The kiss deepened as he drank me in, and there was a brief second where fear sprouted in my stomach. Brock had the power to hurt me again, but the threat was lost in the primitive rumble that rose up from his chest. He broke off the kiss, and my lips felt swollen in the most delicious way.

“I want to know something,” he said, smoothing the hair back from my face. “Something I’ve been wondering about longer than you realize—longer than I should’ve been.”

“What?” I asked, trying to calm my breathing.

Those hands slid down my body, coming to rest on my hips, and when he spoke, his lips moved against mine. “I want to know how you taste.”

Taste?

I knew what he meant by that. Goodness, did I ever. The request sort of shocked me. I mean, we hadn’t even been on a date and we’d just kissed, for the first time, last night. And he wanted to do that already?

And I wanted him to do that. My body really wanted him to do that, like it was one hundred and ten percent on board, but it had been a really, really long time since I’d even been kissed.

Suddenly, I felt incredibly naïve and wholly out of my element. With my hands on his shoulders, I leaned back, putting some space between us. “Brock, I . . .”

“What, babe?” His hand fisted my hair, gathering it against my neck. He kissed the corner of my mouth.

I shuddered as my hands slipped to his chest. “It’s been . . .” Cheeks heating, I tried again. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve done this.”

The hand on my thigh stilled and Brock drew back so he could look me in the eye. “How long?”

“A really, really long time,” I repeated, squirming slightly. “It’s been years since I . . . since I’ve even been kissed, let alone anything more than that.”

Those dark brown eyes nearly turned black.

“I feel like I’m practically a born-again virgin,” I said, forcing out a laugh.

“Fuck,” he growled. “That just makes me want to do it so much more. You have no idea.”

My hands spasmed against his chest, clutching his thermal as my heart worked overtime.

“Let me do this for you.” Brock’s dark eyes glinted with bright desire. “Let me make you come, Jillian. Please, let me help you start really living.”

I lost my breath as I shuddered again. How could I refuse that? For real. I was aching for him in a way I had never felt before. My body wanted him. My heart and soul did. There was no reason to refuse this. Nothing but shadowy doubt and deeply rooted insecurities.