Surviving Ice (Burying Water #4)(84)

That scares me more than anything he might have done.

But right now, I think he’s waiting for some kind of answer from me. My breath shakes with a deep inhale. “Do you ever have a choice, doing whatever you’ve had to do?”

“No.” His answer comes quickly, without hesitation. “Not if I want to save lives.”

“Were you protecting someone who deserves to live?”

“Yes.” Again, not a waver.

“Then I’m sure you’ve always done the right thing, even if it’s not the easy thing.”

His shoulders seem to sag with relief, as if he needed to hear that. I’m glad I said it, even as I’m quietly wondering what he’s hiding. Bobby’s warning from earlier resurfaces. He’s not comfortable around Sebastian, that much is obvious. It could simply be because Sebastian leveled him and two of his guys without breaking a sweat.

But what if it’s something else? I’m usually intuitive. Ned always said my mind was as sharp as an upturned tack lying on the floor, waiting for an unsuspecting foot.

What if my feelings for Sebastian are blinding my senses? Because, even with those thoughts swirling inside my head, all I see is a man I am beginning to care deeply about.

I’m falling for you.

He pries his eyes from the street to settle them on me, and my stomach clenches because I realize that I just spoke those words out loud. I wasn’t supposed to. He’s not supposed to know how I feel. Dammit, Dakota!

A conflict is at war in his eyes, and I silently try to guess exactly what he wants to say.

That he’s leaving.

That this isn’t going to work.

That he knows I care way more than I ever wanted to.

That he isn’t falling for me.

He says nothing, though, and after a moment, his gaze drifts over my body, covered in a sheet. I feel it as surely as I feel his hands when they glide over my bare skin. I feel it in my chest, knowing that he’s not going to get up and leave after my accidental admission. At least, not just yet.

“Is there something more interesting out there on the street than in here?” I don’t know how he’s capable of getting me worked up with just a look.

The chair creaks in relief as he stands. “Not at all.” His thumbs slide under the waistband of his briefs as he peels them off and lets them fall, giving me a good eyeful before he climbs back into bed.

It almost distracts me enough that I miss the gun lying on the windowsill.

Almost.

I push that aside because I trust that Sebastian has a good reason for having his gun lying there, and it has nothing to do with hurting me, or anyone who might not deserve it.

His weight is almost too much as he fits himself between my thighs and guides my legs around his hips. I happily comply, my fingers weaving into the mess of hair on top of his head, savoring the feel of his jawline, covered in a thin layer of dark stubble, as his mouth skates across my neck. Needing him inside me right now, to comfort me in my uncomfortable, vulnerable state.

His breathing grows heavy and fast and eager against my ear.

I expect him to reach for a condom from the nightstand. But after several long moments of him simply pressing his body against me and building my anticipation and frustration, I slide a hand under his chin and push his face up to meet my questioning gaze.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I’ve screwed everything up, haven’t I?

He smiles. “Yeah, you should have.”

Relief swallows up this awful, vulnerable feeling inside me. I trail a finger over his bottom lip and he catches it with his mouth, kissing the tip gently, intimately.

And then he leans closer and begins kissing my mouth in the same way, not like he’s kissed me before, with reckless abandon. Like he’s trying to tell me something with each soft sweep of his tongue, with each gentle nudge of his nose against mine.

I try to match this unusual affection with my own. To tell him what I’m feeling right now without saying the words—that I’m crazy about him, strange, mysterious ways and all.

“You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right?” he whispers against my mouth.

“Yeah.” Why is he asking? What is he thinking?

He shifts his hips and sinks into me. He pauses to meet my gaze, waiting for me to object, I’m sure. Normally, I would. Hell, I’d buck a guy off me for assuming going bareback was okay, especially without asking.

Sebastian has never objected to putting on a condom before. He was always the one reaching for one, which made me feel good because it means it’s common practice for him to use them.

But I can tell by the look in his eyes now that this wasn’t a forgetful slip up in the heat of the moment.

He waits inside me, letting me decide what I want to do.

How safe I feel with him.

How much I trust him.

I curl my arms around his head and pull his mouth down. And push my hips into him.

He moans softly against my ear and then starts to move, the muscles in his body cording in such a beautiful way with each thrust, as they come harder and faster, and his pants grow louder, the bed creaking noisily with each one until the headboard is knocking on the wall behind us.

I don’t care about that, though. All I can think about is that Sebastian is about to orgasm inside me.

Just the thought of that brings me immediately to the edge. His own groans follow closely behind, and I revel in the feel of him pulsing inside me, my thighs squeezing his body involuntarily.