On My Knees (Page 50)

On My Knees (Bridge #1)(50)
Author: Meredith Wild

My nipples went hard, a shiver running across my skin. I bit my lip, tensing against the riotous response of my body.

He turned me to face him. His mouth curved into a sleepy smile as he propped up on his elbow. Even in a relaxed state, his abs looked ridiculously impressive and defined. No sane woman could resist him. My breath left me for a moment as I took in all his beauty again. I didn’t want to go, but I really should before I did something stupid. I’d already hit the quota for the weekend, and I was sober now. I had no excuse.

“How do you feel? You slept a long time.”

“Better,” I said. The sexual energy that pulsed through me seemed to obliterate the last of my wretched hangover. All I could think about now was him. My body came to life, as if I’d been waiting my whole life to be wanted the way his look told me he wanted me now.

I took an unsteady breath. “I should go now though. It’s getting late.”

“Maya, we need to talk.” His hand traced a lazy path up and down my thigh. Whether he was killing time or trying to find the right words, the motion was driving me insane. I was still pantiless and all too accessible to his roaming touch. “You didn’t tell me why were you so upset the other night.”

“I wasn’t,” I lied.

“You mentioned Raina last night. Darren wasn’t lying. There isn’t anything between us and you need to know that.”

“You can see whoever you want, Cam. I have no claim over you.”
“Yes, you do.” His voice was soft, his eyes relaxed but more serious than they had been a moment ago. “You’re the only one who’s ever had claim over me.”

I heated under his gaze. He brushed his hand over my cheek where the color no doubt had come to the surface. That simple touch had me wanting more. I fisted my hands to keep from reaching for him.

“I wanted you last night. It took everything I had to stop, but I couldn’t stand the idea that you’d regret it in the morning because you were drunk. Or worse, that you wouldn’t remember it at all.”

“I remember.” Most of it. I bit my lip at the hazy but intoxicating vision that passed behind my eyes. How his mop of inky black hair had moved between my legs, and how his piercing blue eyes had hunted me the way they hunted me now. I’d come like a rocket, so weakened with the release that I’d begged for more, for all of him.

“So do I. But now I want more.”

The soft rasp of his voice paralyzed any thoughts I’d had about fleeing. His lips parted, his tongue traveling over his bottom lip. The overall effect was brain-frazzling and willpower-crippling.

Sealing the moment and dispelling any lingering reservations, he kissed me, a soft but demanding kiss. I answered, eager for his taste as much as I knew it would be my undoing.

I could sense the determination in his touch as he gently kneed my legs apart and positioned himself between them. He tugged his shirt over my head, leaving me naked and exposed in a matter of moments.

The sharp lines of his face took my breath away. The skin over his cheeks tightened as he looked me over. There was determination in his movements, in the quiet domination of our kiss as his lips crushed against me again, his palms sliding over my skin, reclaiming every expanse of my body he’d once known so intimately. Once upon a time.

Our lips rushed over each other’s. His erection throbbed through his boxers against my belly. The rise and fall of his chest matched my own anxious breaths. My skin heated with a searing desire that stamped out any remote thoughts of shyness.

Still, doubt crept in, tainting the moment, when I only wanted be lost with reckless abandon.

“We shouldn’t do this.”

He stilled. “Tell me why, Maya. You push me away, but you’ve never given me a good reason.”

My lips parted, but I couldn’t speak. The words lodged in my throat. He had to know what was at risk, for both of us.

“I care about you too much,” I whispered.

Understanding softened his eyes. My throat thickened. I squeezed my eyes closed, unable to meet his gaze to say what I needed to say.

“You broke my heart. I—I want to be strong and pretend like it didn’t destroy me, but it did. I can’t do it again. I still have feelings for you, but—”

“Maya.” He caught my face in his palm, silencing me. “We’ll make it right this time.”

I tried to look away but he wouldn’t let me.

What he wanted seemed impossible in the face of what we’d been through. As much as I wanted it too, the reality of the situation hit me. I thought I could keep things between us casual, give in to the attraction, even revisit some of those old feelings—the good ones, the ones I could handle. But whatever forces had taken over this week had not inspired manageable, casual feelings. No miracle could piece me back together if I got invested again only to have him leave. How could I give him that chance?