And so you’re here.
Anne, he said, I will protect you.I don’t want your protection, she cried. Don’t you understand? I have learned how to care for myself, to keep myself— She stopped, then finished with: I can’t be responsible for you, too.
You don’t have to be, he answered, trying to make sense of her words.She turned away. You don’t understand.No, he said harshly. No, I don’t. How could he? She kept secrets, held them to her chest like tiny treasures, leaving him to beg for her memories like some damned dog.
Daniell. . . , she said softly, and there it was again. His name, and it was like he’d never heard it before. Because when she spoke, he felt every sound like a caress. Every sylable landed on his skin like a kiss.Anne, he said, and he didn’t even recognize his voice. It was rough, and hoarse with need, and laced with desire, and . . . and . . .
And then, before he had a clue what he was about, he puled her roughly into his arms and was kissing her like she was water, air, his very salvation. He needed her with a desperation that would have shaken him to his core if he’d let himself think about it.
But he wasn’t thinking. Not right now. He was tired of thinking, tired of worrying. He wanted just to feel. He wanted to let passion rule his senses, and his senses rule his body.What Hale doesn’t know won’t hurt him. We’re both grown-ups, right?
Don’t your lessons usually involve sex?Yes, I say, unequivocally. Fuck. Yes.
Well, I want my junk touching your junk. Do you want that too?Yeah, I choke out. Did she just say junk?