“Because,” her voice was breathy and hushed, “I . . . need you.”
No hesitation. “Why?”
The band of her bra went slack and he set his mouth in the crook of her neck, his unshaven face brushing over her bare skin, his mouth following the bra’s descent. The heat of the day and what he was doing to her pressed down and she felt dizzy. It grew in intensity when he bent her back over his arm and used his mouth to capture her nipple. Even in the heat, her body responded to him, tightening to hard buds. The agony inside her for him threatened to crush her. Just a soft pass of his lips over her flesh and she was coming undone.
“Tell me,” he whispered.
Her eyes fell closed and she ignored him. Tried to focus on the sensation and the fire burning hot inside her. When her hands found cotton beneath them, she gathered it up, pulling the shirt over his back, yanking it over his head. He straightened and finished taking it off, turning to toss it away, and she saw the red line where stitches recently had held his wound closed. Thank God that knife hadn’t taken him from her.
“Ethan,” she said, a half plea. The feel of his warm skin against hers was erotic and dangerous. It was hurling her to the point of no return, and she was going to have to make her final stand. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to get as much contact as possible, her cheek pressed against his chest. “You make me feel alive.”
His hand slipped between them and captured her chin, tilting her face up to his, but she kept her eyes closed tight.
“Look at me,” he said. “I have a theory about why that is.”
She opened her eyes, his intensity boring down into her, stealing the last of her breath and thought.
“Maybe you lost a part of yourself,” he said, “on that mountain. And maybe I lost a piece of myself each time I had to take a life. So, on our own, we both feel half alive. Incomplete.” Those dark eyes swirled with real, raw emotion. “But together, two halves . . .” His lips brushed hers, sparking. Just a taste of the nuclear kiss between them. “Whole again.”
“Oh, God,” she said. “I love you.” She surrendered completely. He wanted inside her heart, whether or not it was cold and lonely there.
He took an enormous breath, her arms rising and falling on his shoulders. A smirk on his lips. “I told you,” he whispered.
Her mouth dropped open and her head spun. She was weak from the overpowering emotion. “Not the three words I was looking for.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He grinned. That only made the head spinning stronger. “I love you. I am very much in love with you.”
Warmth came over her, not cold numbness at his words. “Better.”
Their lips came together then. She wasn’t sure who exactly had started it, not that it mattered anyway. The intensity of his kiss raced down her, all the way to her toes and back again. His hand closed on the back of her head, and slid down, his fingers inching along her spine, and she sighed with relief at his touch.
His arms banded around her, gently pushing her down, laying her on her back, the thick blanket beneath her bare skin and him over her. His breathing picked up, faintly heard over the song of the cicadas humming in the trees nearby.
They worked in concert with each other to shed the remainder of their clothes. Then he was sheathed and returned, his beautifully scarred body on top of hers. Skin against heated skin. A fine layer of sweat covered his chest, which covered the heart beneath it, beating a furious tempo. Proof that he was alive. Proof that he was hers.
He claimed what was his slowly, easing into her an inch at a time until she completely surrounded him. They both took a long breath, gazes locked on each other. She swallowed her next one when he began to move.
He made love to her then. Ethan made her
feel
love with every kiss and caress, and the deep connection she didn’t want either of them to break. The intensity built until she couldn’t hold it back and all that remained was the man.
“I love you,” she said.
Her hand clenched the flesh beneath it, probably hard enough that it was uncomfortable for him, but he endured it without a word. He’d slowed, kissing her neck as she came, but he barely let her recover before he began to move, this time for him. She loved it, the way his eyes went black as night as he drove furious and deep. A groan rumbled and grew in his chest, and she felt it in hers as he came, her shaking beneath him, writhing and bucking and clinging desperately.
God, she’d never give him up.
She was overheated and yet blissed-out numb. Birds chirped, their sounds echoing off the trees, a tractor sputtered off somewhere. He feathered kisses over her throat, up to her ear, his hot and ragged breath filling it. Sweat rolled off the tip of his nose when he drew back to look at her.
That intense look had started it all. She gave him a smile. Ethan pulled an enormous breath in and blew it out, and then retreated from her. She lay boneless on the thick blanket, listened to the cooler open, the ice slosh, and then shut.
A perfectly naked man came back to her, glistening and carrying a bottle of water. They shared it, trying not to let the shockingly cold water drip off the sides onto their heated skin. He adjusted so he was beside her, an arm over her chest and a hand tangled in her hair, his thumb brushing her cheekbone.
It was nice. Lying in the shade, naked with the man she loved beside her. “I could get used to this.”
“Me too,” he said.
“But not in Kentucky. It’s too hot here.”
He chuckled. “You have somewhere else in mind?”
“Munich.”
He startled up onto an elbow. “You’re taking Shawn’s offer?”
The idea of joining the CIA was thrilling and flattering, but Ethan’s words had played in a loop in her mind since their dinner in Washington.
You have to give up a lot.
She’d seen the sacrifice his family had made, and the thought of sacrificing him made her blood run cold.
“That depends,” she said. “Where will you be?” Because that was all she cared about.
“Southern Germany.” He gave her a coy smile. “But, I’m sorry, I can’t be more specific about the location.” He kissed her softly. “What made up your mind?”
“Oh, please, Ethan. It wasn’t even close. I like danger. And you? You’re the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen.” She leaned up so her lips were close to his ear. “You’re all that I need.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you to my better half, Nick Lawrence. Did you ever think you’d get thanked in this many books? You are pretty awesome, so maybe it’s not a surprise. Thank you so much for everything. I love you like you wouldn’t believe.
Thank you to my editor, Karen Dale Harris, for sticking with me when I continue to send you horrible drafts and expect you to work miracles. (You always do!)
To my beta reader, Rosmary, thank you. Our daily chats are not only hilarious, but they keep me motivated, and your feedback is amazingly invaluable.
Thanks to my parents Mike and Diane Sloan for helping inspire me every day, whether it’s a trip to the grocery story, (always an adventure with Dad) or an unbelievable safari in South Africa.
To my copyeditor, Rosa Sophia, thanks for all your hard, dangerous work. Okay, it wasn’t that dangerous, but I had to put ‘danger’ in the book a few more times.
Thank you again to the folks involved in bringing the cover to life: Jamie Alexander, Chelsie Forbey, Jordan Hardin and Ian Plain.
Lastly, thank you to my friends and co-workers at the Messenger-Inquirer (and PMG) for their support.
IF YOU ENJOYED THE BOOK
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Karyn Lawrence is an author, graphic designer, and screenwriter. She published the nonfiction book for teens “Techniques of Color Guard” in 2002 after an editor discovered her color guard blog, way back in the infancy of the Internet and long before blogging was a thing.
She has been a screenwriter for more than fifteen years, with rather mild success, and grew tired of her stories only reaching a handful of readers. The decision was made to try fiction in early 2013. She published her first novel “Stay” in May of 2014.
She is a Chicago native who currently lives in Owensboro, Ky., with her amazing husband and two adorable sons.
Twitter:
@karynsloan
Facebook:
facebook.com/karynlawrenceauthor
COPYRIGHT
Text copyright © 2015 by Karyn Lawrence
Cover photography © by
JAA Studios
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Shady Creek Publishing
www.karynlawrence.com
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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