Soldier Mine (Sons of War #2)(29)
“You did,” I assure him.
We gaze at each other in the quiet. His direct look stirs up more than I want it to, a combination of admiration and physical attraction. I’m afraid of what’s already between us and more so of what it could quickly become, if I don’t prevent it.
“Petr … I can’t.” The words are nearly painful to say.
“Yes, you can. Every once in a while, you just have to take a chance and fall.”
“It’s not the fall I’m afraid of. It’s the landing.”
“Easy. I’ll catch you.”
I duck my head and lick my lips, torn between wanting to be in his arms and packing up my apartment to leave town. I can’t explain why I shouldn’t be here … can’t summon a rejection when I’ve never been so drawn to, or comfortable with, someone in my life. I’m paralyzed, trapped between the past I’m trying to escape and the future I doubt exists.
“Stop thinking, Claudia. Sometimes what you feel is the real truth.”
It feels like my world is crumbling.
I know it’s not. I know this is one tiny barrier between me and a man who is everything I’ve never known in the world – and everything I can imagine wanting. Is this part of my punishment? Meeting Petr and knowing I can’t ever have anything with him?
Lost in my thoughts, I’m aware of little more than the heat of his solid frame and the crackle of the fire.
He tilts my chin up. Before I can register his blue eyes, his soft lips are pressed to mine.
If anything has ever surprised me, it’s the fact I not only don’t freak out, but I have no desire to, either. I can’t. This feels …
Natural. Familiar. So good, I feel I’ve never known real pleasure before the simple kiss.
His palm slides to cup the back of my neck, and I rest mine on his stubble-roughened cheek. His full lips are warm, the pressure gentle. He’s testing my response, as if he’s aware I’ve been ready to escape since I arrived. His tongue slides between my lips twice before I open and give him access to my mouth.
His taste – coffee, gingerbread and his own distinct flavor – melts more of my resolve. We take it slowly, savoring one another, exploring each other with the same hesitant back and forth that have marked our relationship up ‘til now. My blood, already heated by the contact of our bodies, is soon racing with renewed urgency and desire.
He stops and withdraws, resting his cheek on the back of the couch once more. Relaxing my neck, I do the same. My hand drops to his thigh, while his shifts to my shoulder.
We watch each other. I almost imagine him looking for signs of an implosion while I regain what thinking is able to pierce the intoxicated haze of sensation holding me immobilized.
Despite the alarm bells going off in my head and the confusion starting to form, I don’t feel like running. I don’t want to be anywhere but here, however wrong that may be.
“See? Just fall,” he whispers in a deeper timbre. His thumb sweeps across my lips before he lowers his hand to take mine.
“You won’t always be there to catch me, Petr.”
He smiles. “I really don’t think you need catching, Claudia. I think you’re strong enough to land on your feet. I also think that won’t stop me from being there to steady you, if you need it.”
Our five-minute interactions at the diner have been breadcrumbs leading me deeper into the forest, closer to this moment. I never realized it until now. I don’t know when this … when he … ceased to become a choice and instead, became something I craved.
“Petr? Do you want to play a game?” Anton’s voice comes from the same hallway we walked through earlier.
Petr turns his head over his other shoulder to respond. “Only if you promise not to cheat.”
“It is not cheating if you win.”
“You hear that?” Petr asks me quietly. “Consider yourself warned.” His smile is wide, and the shadows are gone from his eyes.
His happiness is like Todd’s; I love it, but it hurts me, too. We stand and walk hand in hand to the coffee table on the other side of the living area being turned into a game space. Todd looks at Petr then me, hiding a smile.
We sit on the couch while Anton sifts through the board games.
“Claudia, what did you go to school for?” he asks with a glance at me.
“Graphic design.”
Anton nods, as if expecting the answer. “I have a project for you.”
“Well … I left before I graduated,” I say, not wanting to tiptoe any closer to why I don’t have my degree. I was twenty when I went on the run and have been performing minimum wage jobs since then. They’re easy to get, and waitressing gives me the chance to earn a little more than I might otherwise. “I might be out of practice.”
“You will remember.”
I glance at Petr, who’s smiling. “In his mind, you’ve confirmed and are already halfway done with it. It’s how he does things. You’ll get used to it.”
The last phrase echoes in my mind. Todd meets my gaze from his spot in an armchair that’s been dragged closer to the coffee table. A flicker of hope is in his face, one that troubles me.
Petr squeezes my hand once more. I don’t know how he senses it when I’m worried, but he does. Our sides are pressed together again, his presence calming the anxious flutter in my stomach.