Own the Wind(34)

She shut her mouth and stared at him.

He kept talking.

“You gotta get your head together, you do it here where I can get to you, not somewhere where I gotta haul my ass on a plane to get to you. Are you comprehending me?”

“But, Shy—” she started.

She was not comprehending him.

“You’re not leaving,” he repeated.

“I have to, the—”

He leaned toward her and growled, “You are not leaving.”

Suddenly, she lost it, throwing her hands out to the sides, she asked, “Why?”

“This is why,” he clipped, stalked the three steps that separated them, snaked an arm around her waist, drove a hand into the back of her hair, and hauled her into his arms.

He slammed his mouth down on hers.

Then he thrust his tongue between her lips and there it was.

Christ, there it f*cking was.

That taste he’d had on his tongue for f*cking years.

Sweet, God, so f*ckin’ sweet.

Beautiful.

He took more and she gave it, her body melting into his, her feet coming up on her toes, her arms circling his shoulders, holding on to him, one hand sliding up into his hair, holding his mouth to hers.

She kept giving it so he took even more and Jesus, the taste of her, the feel of her pressed close, the world melted away. It was more intoxicating than any liquor, a high better than any f*cking drug.

Phenomenal.

Better than he would have guessed. Better than years of wondering how good it could be.

The best he ever had.

With just a f*cking kiss.

He broke his mouth from hers but felt her short, excited pants against his lips when he said yet again, “You are not leaving.”

“Okay,” she breathed, and he closed his eyes, dropped his forehead to hers and sucked in a breath to gain control over the burn in his chest.

When he had it, he opened his eyes and looked down at her.

Her eyes were unfocused, hazy. She was pressed up against him, still holding him, hand in his hair.

He’d made the world melt away for her too.

That burn came back but it was different, and the change was f*cking brilliant.

“You’re gettin’ your head together here,” he demanded.

“Okay,” she agreed on another breath.

Fuck, she was cute. Hot and cute.

It was time to talk to Rosalie.

“What are you doin’?” he asked.

“Not leaving,” she answered.

Good. It was penetrating.

“Then what’re you doin’?” Shy pushed.

“Getting my head together,” she answered.

“How long’s that gonna take?”

“Two hours.”

He felt his lips twitch.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

“You got two hours, sugar, then you come to me,” Shy demanded. “My apartment. I’ll text you the address.”

Her beautiful blue eyes held his and she whispered, “Okay.”

“Two hours, Tabby.”

“Two hours, Shy.”

Yes.

There it was.

Fucking finally.

“Good, baby, now kiss me.”

Her eyes flashed in a way he also felt in his dick, then she rolled up to her toes, put her pretty, rosy mouth to his, and gave him what he’d been craving for four years.

That sweet, pink tongue of hers slid out, glided between his lips and touched the tip of his.

His tongue pushed it back into her mouth and he took over the kiss. It was a repeat of the first but longer, wetter, deeper, not better but a whole lot f*cking hotter.

He broke his mouth from hers and ordered, “Two hours, babe.”

She panted against his mouth and nodded.

He let her go. She teetered. He prowled to the door, pulled it open, turned back to her and lifted a hand with his middle and index fingers extended to the ceiling.

Her cheeks were pink, her mouth swollen, her eyes dreamy, and it was a f*cking good look.

She powered through the haze and nodded.

Shy grinned, turned, closed the door behind him, and he kept grinning as he jogged to his bike.





Chapter Eight


Gone for You


I stood outside Shy’s door trying not to hyperventilate and also trying to get my head together.

Two hours wasn’t enough time.

I knew one thing. My pit of denial could be denied no longer. Not after a month without Shy. Not after that kiss.

That kiss.

That fabulous, unbelievable, amazing kiss.

That wasn’t what I had to sort out in my head.

At least I’d been able to deal with the agency that was sending me to Cape Cod. I’d called and told them I had a family emergency that might mean I’d have to back out, which was a total lie, but after that kiss…

That kiss!

After that kiss I knew one thing for certain, I couldn’t take off and be that far away from Shy for six months or even for another day. I’d had a month without him in my life and I felt even more lost than I felt when Jason died.

I knew why this was. Unlike with Jason, I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it and even I was denying to myself why our separation affected me so deeply. Both of these made it more difficult, so difficult I couldn’t deal without escape. Therefore, Cape Cod it was.