Watch Me Fall (Ross Siblings, #5)(42)

“Oh,” she said, shamed into silence. She hadn’t looked at it like that.

“Not that Shelly was— She wasn’t a stranger. She was a friend. I liked her, and we got along well back then. But I don’t think I would’ve pursued anything further with her if not for Ash and Mia coming along. It’s sad, but there it is.”

“You gave it a chance,” she said. “It’s more than a lot of guys would do.”

“I never much worried about what other guys would do. Just what I should do.”

“Yeah, well, having sampled my fair share of ‘other guys,’ I’m somewhat of an expert on what most of them would do.” Oh shit, should she have said that, given he was two vaginas removed from virginity? Damn tequila. “I probably shouldn’t admit that, but…” She chuckled and gave his previous words back to him. “There it is.”

He laughed as he flipped the blinker to turn down his road. “You’re all right.”

Was he for f*cking real? Kind, crazy about his kids, gorgeous, and nonjudgmental. There had to be some fatal flaw in this system. Had to be. Some switch somewhere that, once thrown, would bring everything crashing down around her.

Maybe it would be sex, but she hoped not. Maybe it wouldn’t be him, it would be her. She’d always been so confident in the bedroom, but he had her mind all messed up. She’d never been here before. She’d never felt this way with anyone before. When she wanted it, she went for it—except, of course, with Brian, whom she’d set upon some unattainable pedestal long ago. So, so close, but so far away. Would the same thing happen here?

She and Jared had kissed, and there had been a promise in that kiss, there’d been words spoken in the heady heat of desire, but did any of it really mean anything? When she had feelings for someone, when she respected someone—a rarity for her—was she doomed to sabotage herself before she could even get started?

The whole stormy night was ahead of them. Just the two of them. She could take this opportunity, or she could watch it slip through her fingers out of stubbornness or fear. All at once, she realized her hands were trembling. The first fat splats of rain hit the windshield. Scooting across the seat to be by his side, she put one of those trembling hands lightly on his denim-clad thigh. Feeling the muscle strong and firm under her fingers, imagining touching the skin underneath the fabric. He looked at her, his eyes piercing and intense even in the darkness. Those eyes caught her, pulled her in, drowned her.

“I want you,” she said softly.

His breath caught. He had to look back at the road in front of him, but he slid an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close to his side. The entire world held its breath while she waited for him to say something, to do something, to stop the truck and take her right here on this lonely road if he had to. She could crawl on top of him. It would be so easy.

“You’ve had a lot to drink,” he said.

Her heart dropped to her stomach. “Don’t tell me that,” she said. “Don’t tell me I’ve ruined this, that something else is my fault—”

He put the brakes on. Stopped the truck right in the middle of the dirt road and threw it into Park. Looked at her so intensely, she wondered how her soul would survive being pierced so deeply. “You haven’t ruined anything. When it happens for us, Starla, you’re going to remember it for the rest of your life.”

Oh. Oh God.

The lightning slicing overhead had nothing on that which flickered through her body at his words. The thunder had nothing on her beating heart. “When it happens for us…”

When. Not if.

He kissed her, not the teasing exploration from last night, not a promise—promises could be broken. It was an assurance as definite as the sun rising tomorrow that he would make good on his words. Deep, thorough, his tongue meeting hers, sliding, causing her to whimper in her throat as his hands framed her face, his fingers sinking into her hair. No one to interrupt them now. Everything about him invaded her—the spice of his mouth, the rasp of his beard against her tender flesh, the sound of his shuddering breath. He smelled like heaven. She couldn’t describe the scent, but already she craved it like air. Her nipples hardened, tightening around her piercings, the tiny weights only accentuating their sensitivity. She throbbed. All over.

But his hands never strayed from her face. They didn’t stroke and soothe all the inflamed areas craving his touch. His mouth broke from hers, both of them panting raggedly, inhaling each other’s breath as they tried to get a grip and thunder growled overhead. His hands hadn’t strayed, no, but somehow she felt the effort it was costing him to leave them where they were, cradling her face as if it was precious to him.

It didn’t seem right. Less than twenty minutes ago, she’d broken down in front of him over another man. And he wanted her anyway. He’d admitted to the ruination of his marriage because of another woman. She wanted him anyway. Maybe they weren’t right for each other. Maybe they would tear each other to pieces before it was over. Having him just once, feeling this all the way to completion, would be worth the danger to her heart. She knew it somehow.

“Know what I like to do when it’s dark and stormy and I’m by myself?” she asked in the silence following that apocalyptic kiss, their noses and lips still only a breath apart.

“What?” His voice was lower and huskier than usual, dark and thrilling. She could imagine it saying all sorts of wicked things; she could imagine he was waiting for her to confess all sorts of wicked things.