The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(80)

“Walk?”

“Yeah?”

“I lied,” she admitted softly. “I’m so sorry. I blame my stupid pride.” She scooted a little closer and crawled back under the covers and into his arms. “I remember all of it.”

He stared at her.

“Everything,” she whispered. “You. Us. What we did. How I felt. I remember it all. You jokingly said you’d ruin me for all men, and you did. You ruined my heart.”

He drew a deep breath and pulled her in tight. “Nothing to forgive,” he said huskily, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. He lifted his head. “So what’s the verdict?”

“That we were both young and dumb?”

“Good thing we’re old now.”

“Speak for yourself.” She straddled his lean hips before bending down to rub her jaw against his scruffy one, then pressing her face to his throat and breathing him in. His skin was warm, and she hummed with pleasure as his hands slid down her body, taking their sweet time too, slowing to explore every inch. She did the same with her lips, brushing them back and forth just beneath his jaw, working her way up to his mouth, the whole while making sure to touch as much of him as she could.

“Is this going anywhere or are you just copping a feel?” he asked, voice thrillingly rough.

“Depends.”

Leaning over him, she kissed his neck and he gave her a lazy smile as he wrapped his arms around her, seeking out her mouth, kissing her breathless. Then he pulled back and stared at her. As they drank each other in, she watched emotions flicker over his face: hunger, desire, aching desire . . . and the same wildness that had always drawn her to him like a moth to the flame.

He smiled first, and when she returned it helplessly, he whispered her name and drew her back down. He rubbed his jaw against hers, pressed his face into her hair and inhaled deeply, breathing her in like she’d done to him. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Maze?”

“Show me,” she whispered, and almost before the words were out, their clothes were gone and he’d rolled them so that she was flat on her back, covered in 180 pounds of lean muscle . . . the both of them unhinged, unglued, as he took them on a wild ride.

After, she lay there, stunned. When she finally managed to sit up, she took in the sight of Walker still kneeling in the middle of the bed, breathing hard, looking as dazed as she felt. “You okay?”

He gave a slight laugh. “I’m not sure.”

He lay down beside her and propped himself up on his elbow while she ran a finger down his chest, lazily thinking about fol lowing that finger with her tongue. Walker caught her hand in his and squeezed, but he looked torn, like he was trying to use both heads at the same time and was failing because of blood loss. She took in his frown and stilled. “Did we hit a hard limit? Too tired for round two?”

He laughed. “Smart-ass.”

“Then . . . ?”

His smile faded. “I need to know if you’re sinking as deep as I am again.”

She sagged back, shaken at his admission. “You want to talk about feelings? Now?”

His gaze never wavered. “Worried I’m going to say this isn’t just sex?”

Suddenly she became acutely aware of her own heartbeat and how her stomach was tightening uncomfortably. “I decided a long time ago not to worry about things like that.”

“Because you don’t stick around long enough to care?” he asked.

That he was right didn’t help.

He watched her for a minute. “I don’t want any more misunderstandings between us, so to be crystal clear, just now wasn’t a mistake, not for me. It was special, and if you run away, it’s fear. You’re afraid to do this.”

“This?” she asked thinly, trying not to panic.

“Us.”

Needing a moment, she rolled off the bed, realizing with surprise it was still dark.

“So I’m good enough to be married to, but not good enough to give a real shot?”

She turned and gaped at Walker, still in the bed, deceptively calm. “You want a real shot?”

“Yes.”

She gaped some more.

“Wow,” he said. “I guess I’m your one-and-done, huh?”

“Actually, technically, you’re a two and done, but I’m not saying that’s what this is.”

“Then say what you mean,” he said. “No more perceived wrongs, no more running instead of facing our shit. I don’t ever again want to be the idiot standing all alone in a hotel room wondering what the hell just happened.”

She was looking for her clothes, but at these words she turned and bumped right into a naked and pissed-off Walker. She stabbed a finger into his pec. “Want the truth?”

“Sure, let’s try that.”

She poked him again and searched for the right words to make him understand. “Truth—I’ve ruined every relationship I’ve ever been in. And I don’t want to ruin this, that would kill me.” She sucked in some air and told herself she absolutely was not going to cry. She was tougher than this. “Truth—I’d rather have you in my life from a distance than destroy this, and destroy it I will. I’m selfish, impulsive, and . . . Mayhem Maze.”

Walker’s hands slid up her arms. “Truth,” he said softly. “There’s only one of those three things that is true. I love that you’re impulsive. I love the way your mind works, and you have not ruined all of your relationships. You haven’t, Maze,” he repeated when she gave a small, disbelieving shake of her head. Ducking down to see right into her eyes, he smiled. “I’m still standing here, aren’t I?”