Page 54 of Branded By Shadow
His grip tightens before I can retreat.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Turn embarrassed because I’m trying not to hurt you.”
“I’m not embarrassed.”
“You’re bright red.”
“It’s the neon.”
“Talia.”
I huff. “Fine. Maybe I’m a little embarrassed.”
His eyes soften at the edges.
Only a little.
Barely enough to count.
But I see it.
“You think I don’t want you?” he asks.
My mouth goes dry.
The blanket is thin. He is not wearing much. The answer is obvious enough to have its own weather system.
Still, my pride is wounded, so I mutter, “I think you are extremely committed to being noble at inconvenient times.”
A rough sound leaves him.
Then he rolls onto his back, taking me with him in one movement that leaves me sprawled half across his chest.
My hair falls around us.
His hands settle on my hips.
“You want to touch me, love?”
My lungs forget their job.
His voice is low.
Rough.
Wide awake now.
“I…” I look down at him. At the ink across his chest, the scars, the hard planes of muscle under warm skin. “Yes.”
“Then touch me.”
My fingers curl against his chest.
“You make that sound very simple.”
