Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(53)

No matter how much she knew breaking the physical relationship between them needed to happen she wasn’t ready for it. She sucked in a slow breath, her mind scrambling for some way to distract him. Or better yet, how to extricate herself from the moment altogether. She cleared her throat and started gathering her things. “I should probably go home, too.”

“No.”

She froze, her fingers locked around the notepad she’d hastily snatched from her desk with the intent of cramming it in her backpack. One word he’d spoken. One simple word, but it sounded as though it eked from the lips of a man long caged in a dungeon.

Slowly, he turned and lifted his head.

Pain and fear stared back at her, so stark and brutal in its intensity her heart stuttered under its weight. But there was something else there, too. Something that urged her to throw all caution aside and hold him close. “What do you mean, no?”

He prowled forward. Unlike the confident gait she’d grown accustomed to, each step was cautious. A dangerous animal comfortable in his own strength and skill, but not daring to underestimate his opponent. “I mean, I don’t want you to go home.”

“You have something you need me to handle here, then?”

He shook his head and stopped so close his leg brushed her knee. Sitting as she was, he towered over her. “No.”

She laid her tablet aside and folded her hands in her lap, forcing them to remain loose no matter how much she wanted to clench them tight. “I don’t understand.”

His gaze dropped to her hands in her lap and he swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m not sure I do either, but I’m tired of fighting it.” He scanned her desk then locked his focus on her computer. Before she could gauge his intent, he punched the power button and held it down, forcing it to close.

She bolted upright and knocked his hand away as if the delayed movement might somehow save the work he’d just thrown away. “Knox, I didn’t save that.”

Lightning fast, his fingers coiled around her wrist. “Work doesn’t matter.” He inched closer. “There’s nothing I can’t help you fix anyway.” He used his hold to turn her, the movement gentle despite the power of his grip. His gaze was locked on the point of contact, a mesmerized look on his face. Only when her body was squared to his did he lift his head and meet her eyes. “I don’t want you to go to your home. I want you to come to mine.”

Home.

Part of her wanted to hiss and rail at the request. To lift her chin and tell him she was done with all his rules and carefully cultivated distance. But another, far more instinctive part, stilled and honed in on the word still reverberating through her thoughts. This meant something to him. Something huge given the caution that gripped his every action.

Maybe it was time for the truth. Even if she hadn’t taken the time to prepare herself. To mourn a connection incompletely formed. She covered his hand still coiled around her wrist with her own, needing the contact even if it crossed a line he didn’t want her beyond. “I’m not sure I can do this anymore. Not without going somewhere you don’t want me to go.”

His grip loosened enough to skim up her arm and over her shoulder until he cupped the side of her neck. His gray gaze burned into hers, pure terror and vulnerability reflected back at her. “What if I said I want you to go there?”

The words were so soft, so carefully spoken and ragged she wasn’t even sure she’d heard them right at first. She braced her trembling hands against his chest. Beneath her palm, his heart raced. She smoothed her hands against him, the need to soothe whatever caused the wildness as inherent as drawing her next breath. “Why would you say that? I thought you said—”

“I know what I said.” He urged her closer, both hands framing her face. His lips hovered so close her own parted, and his heat blanketed her from breasts to thighs. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know what worked before isn’t working now, and I want you with me.”

The emphasis he chose yanked her resolve out from underneath her and fanned the barely repressed desires she’d tried to ignore. “What are you saying?”

His mouth tightened and the rhythm of his inhalations accelerated. “I want strings. Ropes. Chains. Whatever it takes to bind you to me. And I want you in my bed. Mine. Not yours.”

A delicious swoop and spin whispered through her belly, and her skin tingled on a flash of adrenaline. He wanted her. Not at a distance. Not on a purely physical basis, but bound to him. Just replaying his words in her head made her cheeks burn and her heart race.

It was still a risk. By his own admission, he didn’t know what he was doing and had limited if any experience with relationships. To be the first he attempted such a feat with in God only knew how many years was dangerous. A step that could leave her bruised and battered when everything was said and done.

Live enough for both of us.

This was living. Nestled close to Knox, his strength and emotion prickling against her skin, was the biggest thrill she’d ever experienced. And if she came out on the other side broken, then so be it. She’d bandage herself up, face life’s next challenge the same way she had all the others and make all the sacrifices she’d been honored with worth it.

She skimmed her fingers along his jawline, the light stubble tickling the pads and causing a flutter up her arms. She rolled up on her toes, softly meshed her lips against his and whispered, “Then take me home.”