She took a breath, opening her mouth to speak, but something in his blue gaze stopped the words before they could form. Something sharp, predatory. Something that made her feel like she was the center of the world, or at least the center of his world.
It was intoxicating. She’d never experienced it before.
She wanted more, all of it. Wherever it would lead.
And that was scary. Scarier than agreeing to do something she had never done before. Because she finally understood. Understood why her mother had traded her sanity, and her self-worth, for that moment when a man looked at you like you were his everything.
Danielle had spent so long being nothing to anyone. Nothing but a burden. Now, feeling like the solution rather than the problem was powerful, heady. She knew she couldn’t turn back now no matter what.
Even if sanity tried to prevail, she would shove it aside. Because she needed this. Needed this balm for all the wounds that ran so deep inside of her.
Joshua walked across the immaculate space and opened up a cabinet. There were blankets inside, thick, woolen ones with geometric designs on them. He pulled out two and spread one on the ground.
She bit her lip, fighting a rising tide of hysteria, fighting a giggle that was climbing its way up her throat.
“I know this isn’t exactly a fancy hotel suite.”
She forced a smile. “It works for me.”
He set the other blanket down on the end of the first one, still folded, then he reached out and took her hand, drawing her to him. He curved his fingers around her wrist, lifting her arm up, then shifted his hold, lacing his fingers through hers and dipping his head, pressing his lips to her own.
Her heart was still pounding that same, steady beat, and she was certain he must be able to hear it. Must be aware of just how he was affecting her.
There were all sorts of things she should tell him. About Riley’s mother. About this being her first time.
But she didn’t have the words.
She had her heartbeat. The way her limbs trembled. She could let him see that her eyes were filling with tears, and no matter how fiercely she blinked, they never quite went away.
She was good at manipulating conversation. At giving answers that walked the line between fact and fiction.
Her body could only tell the truth.
She hoped he could see it. That he understood. Later, they would talk. Later, there would be honesty between them. Because he would have questions. God knew. But for now, she would let the way her fingertips trailed down his back—uncertain and tentative—the way she peppered kisses along his jaw—clumsy and broken—say everything she couldn’t.
“It doesn’t need to be fancy,” she said, her voice sounding thick even to her own ears.
“Maybe it should be,” he said, his voice rough. “But if I was going to take you back to my bedroom, I expect I would have to wait until tonight. And I don’t want to wait.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t have to be fancy. It just has to be now. And it has to be you.”
He drew his head back, inhaling sharply. And then he cupped her cheek and consumed her. His kiss was heat and fire, sparking against the dry, neglected things inside her and raging out of control.
She slid her hands up his arms, hanging on to his strong shoulders, using his steadiness to hold her fast even as her legs turned weak.
He lifted her up against him, then swept his arm beneath her legs, cradling her against his chest like she was a child. Then he set her down gently on the blanket, continuing to kiss her as he did so.
She was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, by his focus. Overwhelmed by his closeness, his scent.
He was everywhere. His hands on her body, his face filling her vision.
She had spent the past few months caring for her half brother, pouring everything she had onto one little person she loved more than anything in the entire world. But in doing so, she had left herself empty. She had been giving continually, opening a vein and bleeding whenever necessary, and taking nothing in to refill herself.
But this... This was more than she had ever had. More than she’d ever thought she could have. Being the focus of a man’s attention. Of his need.
This was a different kind of need than that of a child. Because it wasn’t entirely selfish. Joshua’s need gave her something in return; it compelled him to be close. Compelled him to kiss her, to skim his hands over her body, teasing and tormenting her with the promise of a pleasure she had never experienced.
Before she could think her actions through, she was pushing her fingertips beneath the hem of his shirt, his hard, flat stomach hot to the touch. And then it didn’t matter what she had done before or what she hadn’t done. Didn’t matter that she was a virgin and this was an entirely new experience.
Need replaced everything except being skin to skin with him. Having nothing between them.
Suddenly, the years of feeling isolated, alone, cold and separate were simply too much. She needed his body over hers, his body inside hers. Whatever happened after that, whatever happened in the end, right now she couldn’t care.
Because her desire outweighed the consequences. A wild, desperate thing starving to be fed. With his touch. With his possession.
She pushed his shirt up, and he helped her shrug it over his head. Her throat dried, her mouth opening slightly as she looked at him. His shoulders were broad, his chest well-defined and muscular, pale hair spreading over those glorious muscles, down his ridged abdomen, disappearing in a thin trail beneath the waistband of his low-slung jeans.
She had never seen a man who looked like him before, not in person. And she had
