Blood and Fire (McClouds & Friends #8)(92)

Lily lifted his trembling, knotted fists and dropped a gentle kiss onto each of them in turn. “And you think it should have been you?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

“You were a child!” she raged. “Up against an organized crime syndicate! Get real! Give yourself a break!”

Laughter shook him again. “I’m eighteen years older now, and guess what, babe? I’m not doing a whole lot better than when I was twelve! It’s f*cking déjà vu. In the past thirty-six hours, you’ve been clubbed, shot at, and thrown off a cliff. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it.”

“You saved me, you moron!” she yelled. “You’re being deliberately stupid and dense about this! My God, you ask a lot of yourself!”

He touched his forehead to hers. “I can’t help it,” he blurted. “I love you.”

She went very still. He realized, with a stab of pure, white-hot panic, that he meant it. He really did. Body, soul, blood, bones, teeth, and guts, he meant it. He loved Lily Parr. Period.

Oh, shit. And he had to run off his mouth about it.

He tightened his fingers around her cold ones. Fear gripped him, deep and hard. What a loser. His timing. It sucked. “Don’t say anything,” he begged. “I know it’s too soon. Things are too crazy.”

She tilted her head up, kissed him. Little, flowerlike kisses, blooming against the corner of his mouth. But she evaded his returning kiss, drawing back, swaying away. Not ready for it.

“I won’t hold you to it,” she whispered.

That didn’t sound promising, but what the hell, he’d taken the plunge. “You don’t have to hold me to it. It is what it is.”

She slid her arms around his neck. He kissed the corners of her eyes. Sure enough. Wet. Hot. Salt. He kissed the tears away, making it a ritual. Each tear he licked away was a magic spell, holding her to him.

“Can I say something . . . ? Without making you mad?” she asked.

He went right on guard. “I don’t make dumb promises like that.”

“Then I’ll have to risk it.” She kissed his jaw. “The way you felt scared, because you couldn’t protect your mother? And me?”

“It sucks. Literally. Like a vortex underneath my guts. So?”

“That was the way she felt about you,” Lily said.

Bruno shut that out. He just had no place to put it. He shook his head, not sure what he was negating. Subject closed.

Lily waited but wisely concluded that she wasn’t going to get a coherent response from him. She padded into the bathroom, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the moon. He leaned his forehead against the cold glass, watching his breath fog it up. The white patch of steam, swelling and retreating. The bathroom door clicked open. Light spilled out into the dark room. Lily came up behind him, stroking his back. Perfumed steam wafted aong with her.

He turned to look at her, realized that she was naked.

It bowled him over, how beautiful her perfect curving silhouette was backlit by the glow from the bathroom. So graceful. His throat tightened. His cock sprang to attention. His balls were heavy, throbbing.

“Lily,” he warned. “You’re covered with bruises.”

She tilted her head. The light caught the sly gleam in her eyes. “Shhh,” she murmured, getting to work on the buttons of the fleece shirt he’d borrowed from some McCloud or other. “I’m fine. But I won’t pressure you. I know how tired you are, particularly after that meeting. Let’s just, you know. Cuddle. Skin to skin. It feels so good.”

A sound burst out, hurting his throat. “Fat f*cking chance.”

“We could,” she said stubbornly. “We really could. Men are so weird about that.” She shoved the shirt off his shoulders and started in on his belt. “Nothing’s stopping us.” She shoved his pants down.

“Ya think?” His cock leaped out, sproing, like it was springloaded.

She gazed at it. “Ah,” she murmured. “Just out of curiosity, are you in this condition in spite of all your stress? Or because of it?”

“Does it matter?” He tried and failed not to sound belligerent as he kicked off his shoes, wrenched his jeans the rest of the way down.

She shrugged. “Just wondering.”

“One, I’m jacked up and totally out of my mind. Two, you’re gorgeous, and you drive me wild. That still doesn’t make it a good idea.”

She took his hand, led him toward the stairs. “Well, gee. Maybe you’re right. Let’s just take this upstairs and have this argument while we’re warming up the sheets.” She glanced down at his turgid dick. “We can discuss all the, um, ramifications under a cuddly comforter.”

He held back. “It’s not just that,” he said, miserably. “The dreams. You shouldn’t sleep with me, Lily. It’s not safe. I’ll sleep on that couch.”

“Fuck if you will.” Her voice was as sharp as glass. “Come up those stairs with me, right here, right now. Or. Else.”

Well, damn. She had him by the dumb handle. He followed along up that winding staircase like a docile hound, helpless to resist the spectacular view of her ass. It was so round, accented with velvety shadows deepening the cleft and pooling in the twin dimples at the top, collecting under the lush, pearlike under-curve of her butt cheeks. He wanted to cup and stroke and pet and kiss. Hours of worship.