He lifted one of her wrists and winced at the red marks. He didn’t know if he deserved the chance to make it better, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying.
“I hurt you,” he said just before he leaned in to press his mouth to the sensitive skin at the inside of her wrist. “I never meant to hurt you.”
The last thing he expected was for her to slide her hand from his and place it against his cheek.
“No,” she said softly, “you didn’t hurt me. I’m the one hurting you. And I’m sorry.” She lifted her mouth to his and pressed a soft kiss to one corner of his lips. “I’m so sorry for hurting you.” She pressed a kiss to the other side before both hands moved to his face. “That’s why I tried to leave this morning, because I don’t want either of us to get hurt. But,” she admitted before her mouth found his with a kiss that stole another piece of his heart, “I didn’t want to go.” Her tongue swept across his lips. “I still don’t.” She pulled back enough to look up at him. “Please, Smith, kiss me back.”
She’d never gotten around to asking him for a kiss at Alcatraz. She’d simply taken it instead, and he’d loved that she had.
But now, as she finally asked him for his kiss, he prayed it was her way of saying he hadn’t hurt her...and that she wouldn’t hold anything he’d done this morning against him.
Wanting her more than he’d ever thought it was possible to want another person, he cupped her face in his palms and turned her soft kisses into the dark, dangerous tangle of lips and tongue and teeth that they were both craving. And yet, even in the swirling darkness, there was such sweetness, a shimmering light rising up over both of them.
“Take me,” she begged as she opened herself to him and wrapped her arms and legs around him. “Please, Smith,” she whispered on a soft moan when he lowered his mouth to the hollow of her neck to taste her skin, to try to convince himself that she was real, that she could still want him after he’d nearly crossed the line. “Make love to me one more time.”
God, he thought as he kissed her again, he would never get enough of her mouth. Even as he finally moved into her and her hips bucked up into his to take him even deeper, even as he lost hold of anything but how soft and hot and perfect she was beneath him, around him, his lips never left hers.
Sex had always brought him pleasure, but making love with Valentina went so far beyond pleasure, that as she begged him between kisses to take her harder, deeper, until her words blurred together into one long, low moan that merged with his, he could barely hold back his own pleas.
Not just for more pleasure than he’d ever dreamed was possible, but for the chance to seduce more than just her body.
To win over her heart, too.
Afterward, they lay together, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, mouth to mouth. He wanted to stay like that with her forever, wanted to do whatever he could to keep her from leaving, but he was so much heavier that he didn’t want to crush her. Shifting onto his side, while still keeping her cradled against him, he stroked one hand over her damp hair.
Unfortunately, too soon, she was saying, “I promised Tatiana I’d have a girls’ day with her. We haven’t seen much of each other outside of the set.”
She offered the explanation as if to try to soothe him, and he was glad to know that despite how clear she’d been about not wanting to date him, his feelings obviously mattered to her.
“In fact,” she said, “I really need to get back home before she returns from the airport. If she knew I didn’t spend the night at home, she’d wonder why.”
A heavy cement block landed on his chest. “You’re not going to tell her about us.”
She shifted out of his arms and sat up partway on the bed, using the crumpled sheets to cover her beautiful naked skin.
“No,” she said softly, “I’m not.” She licked her lips. “I don’t regret what happened last night. Or this morning.” The hazel of her eyes met his, so steady and so beautiful that his entire chest squeezed even tighter. “But I thought you of all people would know how this is supposed to play out.”
He worked to keep his expression impassive. “Tell me, Valentina, how is that?”
In her frustration, she sat up higher on the bed, cross-legged so that the sheets slipped to reveal a luscious stretch of hip and thigh. “You’re supposed to move on to your next conquest. Everything is supposed to finally go back to normal.” Her voice rose a little more with each sentence, until she was practically yelling at him, “Now that we’ve had sex, you’re supposed to be done with me!”
He let her slide out of the bed, closing the bathroom door and locking him out for a few minutes.
Now that he’d had her, he thought as he dragged on a pair of jeans, they were anything but done.
Smith was in the kitchen pouring two cups of coffee when Valentina came out ten minutes later, fully dressed, her hair still damp around her shoulders, her shoes on, her bag in her hand.
“Stay for a cinnamon bun, Valentina.”
She looked with surprise at the plate at the center of the breakfast table by the window. Her stomach growled even as she said, “Why are you making this so much harder than it has to be?”
“It doesn’t have to be hard.”
It was what he wanted to show her, what he knew she believed in her heart of hearts—that love didn’t have to be hard. He thought again about what his mother had said to him on the phone: “Sometimes it’s harder to admit to ourselves that we want love than it is to keep living without it. Don’t give up on her.”
With that sage reminder echoing in his head, Smith took Valentina’s bag from her clenched hands and put it down, then pulled out the chair for her. She looked for a moment like she would mutiny, until with a sudden sigh, she sat down.
“You really don’t play fair, do you?” She pulled off a piece of the cinnamon bun and popped it into her mouth on a greedy little sound of pleasure. “These truly are some of the best things I’ve ever eaten. Dripping with sugar, just the way I like them.”
He couldn’t stop smiling at her as he ripped off a piece for himself. Nor could he stop himself from leaning over to lick off the sugar glistening at the corner of her mouth. “I like it, too.”
She opened her eyes and glared at him. “Smith.”