Page 28 of Ranger’s Protection

"I know this is terrible timing. I know you've had the worst day imaginable and the last thing you need is me complicating it further." I stand, deciding to, moving closer to the bed. "But you asked why, and that's why. You matter to me. I don't know how to explain it in a way that makes tactical sense, but there it is."

She's staring at me now, her lips parted, her breathing faster. "We just met."

"I know."

"This doesn't make sense."

"I know that too."

"So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I like talking to you. I like that you're smart and observant and ask direct questions. I like that you're soft but not weak. I like the way you handled yourself today even though you were terrified." I stop at the edge of the bed, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. "I like you, Delilah. And I know that's probably just adrenaline or proximity or some other explainable phenomenon, but it feels real."

"It feels real to me too," she whispers.

"Tell me to leave," I say. "Tell me this is a bad idea, and you need space, and I'll go. No questions. No judgment."

She doesn't tell me to leave.

Just looks at me with those huge brown eyes, fear, lust and confusion all tangled together in her expression.

"I don't want you to leave," she finally says.

"What do you want?"

"I don't know. I just know I feel safer with you here. Feel less alone. Feel like maybe I'm not completely losing my mind for feeling... whatever this is."

"You're not losing your mind."

"How do you know?"

"Because I feel it too. And if we're both losing our minds, at least we're doing it together."

She laughs. "That's terrible logic."

"I'm better at tactics than logic when it comes to this kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?"

"Whatever this is between us."

She swallows hard, her eyes never leaving mine. "Graham, I want you to kiss me."

The direct request does something to me. No games. No pretense. Just honest want. I cup her face with one hand. "If I start kissing you, I'm not going to want to stop."

"Then don't stop," she whispers.

I kiss her.

She tastes like tears and toothpaste. Her lips are soft, then bolder as she realizes I'm not going to pull away. I deepen the kiss, unable to help myself. One hand sliding into her damp curls, the other moving to her jaw, tilting her head to get a better angle. She opens for me immediately, and fuck, her taste is addictive.

I want more.

Need more.

My tongue slides against hers and she gasps, her hands coming up to grip my jacket. Pulling me closer. Not pushing away. Not hesitating.

Wanting this as much as I do.