The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [533]
“I have sin and sorrow of my own,” he said evenly. “It’s washed over you a time or two.”
“I knew it would piss you off.”
“It does. And by God, Eve, it hurts me.”
Her mouth dropped open, trembled closed again. “I don’t mean to do that.” Hadn’t known she could do that. Part of the problem, she realized. Her problem. “I don’t have the words like you do. I don’t have them, Roarke, the kind you say to me—or even think, and I see you thinking them and it—my heart just stops.”
“Do you think loving you to excess is easy for me?”
“No. I don’t. I think it should be impossible. Don’t get mad.” She hurried on when she saw that dangerous flash in his eyes. “Don’t get mad yet. Let me finish.”
“Then make it good.” He set the flower aside. “Because I’m damn sick and I’m tired of having to justify my feelings to the woman who owns them.”
“I can’t keep my balance.” Oh, she hated to admit it, to say it out loud to the man who wobbled it so often and so easily. “I get it, and I cruise along for a while, realizing this is who I am now, who we are now. And then, sometimes, I just look at you and stumble. And I can’t get my breath because all these feelings just rear up and grab me by the throat. I don’t know what to do about it, how to handle it. I think, I’m married to him. I’ve been married to him for almost six months, and there are times he walks into the room and stops my heart.”
She let out a shuddering breath. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. In my life, you’re what matters most. I love you so much it scares me, and I guess if I had a choice about it, I wouldn’t change it. So . . . now you can get pissed off, because I’m done.”
“A fat lot of room you’ve given me for that.” He watched her lips twitch into a smile as he went to her. His hands slipped over her shoulders, down her back. “I’ve no choice either, Eve. I wouldn’t want one.”
“We’re not going to fight.”
“I don’t think so.”
She kept her eyes on his as she tugged at the belt of his robe. “I stored up this energy in case I needed it to fight with you.”
He lowered his head, bit her bottom lip. “It’s a shame to waste it.”
“I’m not going to.” Slowly, she backed him toward the bed, up the short steps to the platform. “I drove through the city tonight. I felt alive.” She tugged the robe away, closed her teeth over his shoulder. “I’m going to show you.”
She tumbled to the bed on top of him, and her mouth was like a fever. The frantic burst of energy reminded her of the first time they’d come together on this bed, the night she’d thrown all caution and restraint aside and let him take her where they’d needed to go.
Now she would drive him, with fast, rough hands, hot greedy lips. She took exactly what she wanted, and what she took was everything.
The light was gray and weak, trickling through the sky window overhead, filtering down on her. His vision blurred, but he watched her as she destroyed him. Slim, agile, fierce, the bruises from the hideous night blooming on her skin like the medals of a warrior.
Her eyes gleamed as she worked them both toward frenzy.
Then, and then again, skin glowing, breath ragged, she lowered over him, sheathed him, surrounded him.
She arched back, arrowed with pleasure. He gripped her hips, said her name, and let her ride.
Her skin was slick with sweat when she collapsed onto him, melted into him. His arms came around her, holding her there. Her cheek to his heart.
“Sleep awhile,” he murmured.
“I can’t. I have to go in.”
“You haven’t slept in twenty-four hours.”
“I’m okay,” she answered as she sat up. “Almost better than okay. I needed this more than sleep—really, Roarke. And if you think you’re going to force a tranq down my throat, think again.”
She rolled off him and up. “I need to keep moving. If there’s any down time,