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“Taking what I want.” Then his lips dive for mine.
His kiss, so possessive, so passionate, breathes life into me. It’s an explosion of emotion. I am the flame and he is the wind, whipping around me, driving me to continue burning. The blaze roars, searing everything that exists until there’s nothing left but ash and dust. Nothing but a faint memory of what was.
And the only thing you can do with the scorched earth is rebuild.
Reforestation.
Start anew.
“I want you, Carla,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I want it all with you.”
It feels as if all this time I’ve been standing outside, holding onto a tree, eyes trained on the sky, waiting for the impending dark clouds to roll overhead.
Tonight, it’s here.
It’s time.
I’m swept up into the eye of the storm. The one that has been building momentum since the first night I laid eyes on this man. The water level’s rising. I slip under, and then my heart jumps ship. It flows away as the flood spills out of me.
My heart, once broken and bruised, has now found refuge in the hands of another.
“Take me,” I say.
“No.” TJ grips my arms and holds me away from him. His eyes are squeezed shut, like he’s restraining himself from going any further. “I want more. More than just tonight.”
My hands glide over his muscular arms until they reach his chest. I can feel his heart thumping. Hard. It’s thunderous. And I know why.
It’s rioting. Thrashing against its cage so mine can find its way.
I stretch up onto my toes and make sure he’s looking in my eyes when I say, “You have me, TJ. I’m already yours.”
My words sound like a shot at the starting line, and our lips fuse together. TJ scoops me up and carries me out into the gym, up the stairs, all the way into his apartment. Our hands are frantic, searching for skin, and when my feet touch the floor in his bedroom, we tear off our clothes.
I watch with hungry eyes as he frees himself from his boxers, taking in every inch of his glorious body. Tattoos and bulging muscles, he’s every part the fighter. Strength and intimidation—shoulders wide, chest broad, skin taut over his carved abdomen. But with the bruises and bandages fresh on his skin, he looks more like a warrior than ever before.
The man has been through a lifetime of combat. Raised in a warzone. Battling through every horror imaginable. But standing before me isn’t someone who let the war harden him.
No.
Standing before me is a man who slayed all his demons. Tired and beaten, he’s laying down his weapons, once and for all. Leaving the past behind him. Starting the next chapter of his life.
He’s no longer a gladiator. No longer a slave to the pain. No longer marred by brutality.
He’s free.
And I’m going to show him everything he’s been missing. Give him everything he deserves.
I pull TJ onto the bed with me and straddle him. He’s still in bad shape from last night and I know I need to be careful maneuvering around his wounds, but his fervor is making that a bit difficult. He’s grabbing and pulling, licking and biting—and I can’t help but meet each of his moves with the same intensity.
We’re naked and ready, his hardness, my wetness, and I reach for a condom in his nightstand.
That’s when he notices. “You got a tattoo?”
I smile at the surprise in his voice. “I did.”
He runs his fingers over the cursive words underlining my left breast: There’s always Plan B
His gaze is filled with question and wonderment.
