Rushing the Goal (Assassins #8)(39)

Wouldn’t it?

Closing her eyes, she moved her nose against his chest as his heart pounded against his ribs. She wasn’t sure and that scared her. Everything was muddled. On one hand, she wanted him with the fierceness of a thousand armies. And on the other, she knew it wouldn’t end well. He’d want more, or hell, she might want more. And then what? Shit, what was she doing? But she couldn’t think of that for long because the rhythm of his heartbeat was soothing, and all her worries, they…they just disappeared. It was insane, but damn it, she felt so damn good.

Safe.

It was such a beautiful feeling too, something she had never felt in her life. She used to think that Rick gave good hugs, that she was safe in his arms, but she’d been wrong. So f*cking wrong. Not even hugging her father, when he was her world, or her brothers was like hugging Benji.

No, this was different.

And crap, she was turned on. So damned turned on. From a hug? Jesus, she was pitiful, but she couldn’t deny how she felt. How he made her feel. She remembered Avery saying that moments with her brother—gag—would cause her to hear Ed Sheeran in her head, singing so beautifully to the moment she was in. Yeah, Ed was singing, loud and clear, and Lucy was swooning.

When Benji started to pull back, she whimpered. He paused, holding her closer if possible, chuckling against her hair. “Lucy, tell me what’s wrong.”

She couldn’t. She didn’t want to ruin this moment. She didn’t want to cry about the shitstorm of her life right now. No, she just wanted to be held. To be protected by this man. That’s all she wanted, and she felt she deserved it. She wanted to feel safe. Was that too much to ask?

“Let me help,” he whispered, his lips brushing along her hair.

Closing her eyes, she sucked in a breath and figured she owed him at least an explanation for why she was clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in her life. Which was ludicrous. She was Lucy Fucking Sinclair, she didn’t need any man… But right now, she needed Benji, which completely contradicted what she thought of herself. But it was becoming really exhausting being strong all the time.

Moving her nose up his chest, she opened her eyes, placing her chin in the middle of his chest as she looked up at him. Which was a bad idea. Because now, she was speechless. His lips were pressed together, only a little curve to them, worry in those gray eyes locked on hers. She had never looked into such intense eyes. Like she really could see his soul. It was tarnished, but still so beautiful.

And shit, she wanted to kiss him.

He must have felt her realization because he looked stunned, his eyes darkening as his mouth slowly parted. Swallowing hard, he held her gaze with his eyes and time stopped. She heard nothing as he moved his hand to cup her face. Just a simple motion, so sweet, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. Slowly shaking his head, he quirked his lips and she was convinced he had never been sexier.

“I swear, I’ve never seen someone so beautiful as you in all my adult life.”

Oh, God. Her * clenched as she gasped for breath. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been called beautiful before, but when Benji said it, it was real. Like he really hadn’t ever seen anyone as lovely as she, and holy crap, it made her feel good. Special. She felt special. Crap. Crap. Triple crap.

“Really?” she croaked out, and instantly, she regretted it. Really? That was her answer? Where was her sassy demeanor? There was so much more she could have said there. Like, “Right back at you, stud.” Jesus, was she Sandy Olsson? Stud? Who even thinks that? And crap, Shut your brain off, Lucy! Now!

While she was arguing with herself, Benji’s gaze was on her intently, his thumb moving ever so slowly on her jaw, almost touching the side of her mouth as he drank her in. As she got lost in his eyes, the air around them crackled and popped and she couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. No, all she could do was look up into his beautiful face and drink him in. How his jaw was so thick, his eyes so dark, and Jesus, those lips. To feel them would be a blessing, she was convinced. And all she had to do was go up on her toes and she’d be there. Just one simple move.

“Lucy.”

Just go up on your tippytoes. Kiss him. Jesus, Lucy, do it!

Yet, she didn’t move. Only whispered, “Benji?”

He swallowed once more, his jaw clenching as his fingers threaded through her hair. His body was so taut, like he was trying so hard not to move. All she wanted to do was press her lips to his. But what if he didn’t want it— Oh, who was she kidding? She could feel him. He wanted her.

“I want to kiss—”

Fuck it.

Before the words could leave his mouth, she went on her toes and then her mouth was moving against his.

And all hell broke loose.

He lifted her off the ground and whipped them around, pressing her into the wall with urgency. His body covered hers perfectly as their mouths moved together in an urgent caress. He felt so big, so strong, his lips so soft. It was everything she had ever dreamed of. God, yes. As she wrapped her legs around his hips, one of his hands held her ass while the other tousled her hair, his kisses becoming more demanding as his cock pressed into her soft center.

She wasn’t going to make it.

When she opened her mouth, his tongue met hers as his hand slid down her body, his fingers biting into her hips. Arching into him, she moved her hands up his arms, then his neck, and into his hair. She wasn’t sure how, but she deepened the kiss. His body felt so good, so hot against hers, and man, she wanted more. When his mouth tore from hers, his lips traced down her jaw, nibbling before going along her jaw to her ear, and she cried out. She didn’t want to stop.