Warrior (First to Fight #1)(52)

I repeat these things to myself after freshening up as I walk down the hallway toward the stairs. I’m so caught up in resolving to ignore Ben that I don’t realize he’s come upstairs until he’s right in front of me.

My feet freeze and my eyes round. My traitorous heart beats an unsteady rhythm in my chest. “Hey,” I whisper, because all other words have failed me.

He rocks back on his heels and hooks his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. “Thought you got lost,” he says.

“No—uh—I was just in the bathroom.” I shake my head to clear the confusion. “Are you going to bed?”

He takes a step toward me, and I find myself backing up toward the wall. “No, I was coming up to talk to you.”

“Me?” I’m completely mortified to find that my voice is little more than a squeak.

“I think it’s time we had that talk.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“I’m thinking we’re past letting you make decisions about things that concern me for a while. Don’t you?”

My cheeks heat. “Look, about that—”

Ben puts a finger on my lips, halting my confessions. “I think it’s time for me to talk for a bit.” When I nod, he lowers his hand. “I was in a f*cked-up place, for a long time, Liv. Truth be told, I’m still in that place. If you were smart you’d be running away from me right now.”

Even though I had suspected that something had happened to change the person I once knew, he’d never out-and-out confirmed it. I bring my hands to his cheeks and pull his crystal-blues up to face me. “I don’t want to run away from you, Ben.”

“You don’t deserve to be saddled with a man like me. I knew it when we were together that night. I knew it the first time I kissed you, and I know it now. If I were a good man, I wouldn’t be here right now, but I’m not. I want you, everything else be damned.”

“Do you—”

He traces the gentle curve of my cheekbone with the tip of his finger and says, “I don’t want anyone else. What I want is to spend every day I have with you. Every mundane moment. I don’t want to keep letting you slip away.”

Thoughts slow to a pathetic crawl and every nerve ending is focused on the soft pass of his skin on mine. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that you’ve brought me to my knees, Spitfire. I tried to get you out of my head and I couldn’t. I don’t think I want to.”

Despite my confusion and the emotional whiplash of the past few weeks, I have to admit that I’ve missed him, too. So much.

His fingers delve underneath the thin material of my shirt, pushing my bra out of the way as he cups one breast in his big hands. My knees weaken and he wraps his available arm around my waist. He presses my back against the wall.

I gasp for breath that sounds ragged in the darkness of the secluded hallway. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Really?” His teeth catch my earlobe, and he sucks it into his mouth and nibbles. “I’m sure it’s probably a bad idea. But don’t you remember how good the last bad idea we had was?”

He catches my lips in a searing kiss, one that is in no way playful, or loving, or soft. This kiss dominates me, reminds me of all the times I’ve fantasized about doing exactly this. It ignites a fire inside me that burns away every misgiving I have.

He starts to edge us toward my room, hitching my thighs around his hips as he walks so our lips never break contact. Somehow, we make it to my room without tumbling to the floor in a heap of limbs and lust.

When he reaches to turn on the lamp on the bedside table, I grab his hand to stop him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, pausing his investigation of my bra clasp.

“I would just rather have the light off.”

Ben makes a confused sound and flicks on the lamp. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just don’t quite look the same.”

Understanding dawns and he lays me down on the bed, climbing between my legs so his face is even with my stomach. “Every inch of you is perfect.” His hands travel from my thighs to the hem of my shirt. “Every inch. Do you hear me?”

I squirm in his hold. He’d seen my body pre-baby and mostly obscured by shadows. It’s completely different now; the months hadn’t dulled the stretchmarks, hadn’t taken away the new curves. I’m no supermodel. “I—”

He doesn’t even give me a chance to protest. “No. I’ve spent the last year dreaming about you. About touching you. Tasting you. Seeing you. All of you. Don’t hide yourself from me.”

My chest warms. It feels like I’m on the edge of a precipice. Taking this step will change everything. Again. “Ben. I’m scared.” Of what I’m feeling. Of the future.

He climbs up my body and holds me in his arms, tipping my face up with a hand cupped under my chin. “Don’t be. I’m here. What we have is more important than any imperfection you may think you have. It’s more important, stronger, than what we’re up against.” His free hand grips my hip and pulls me closer. “This body grew my son. It nearly died for him. Twice. You have no idea how beautiful that makes you to me. How gorgeous you are. All of you.”