“You’re safe here,” he said, turning to put his back to the wall.
Sage mimicked his pose. “You keep telling me I’m safe, but it’s different when you say it.”
“How so?” he asked.
She wrapped her arms around her middle to keep her fingers from fidgeting. “They mean physically. I’m physically safe. No harm will come to my body. But you…” She stopped in her tracks. The idea was right there, but the words were harder to find. Partly because she wasn’t sure how to string them together, partly because the concept still felt too big and unwieldy for her to comprehend. Maybe they were the same problem, she didn’t know. She did, however, know her cheeks were beginning to flush under his attention and she’d been quiet for too long and his eyebrows were starting to climb toward his hairline and…
“Safe, with you, is more. It’s space to heal. It’s time to figure out who I am. It’s this big, full feeling. Of what, I don’t know. Possibility? Potential? Something more, like a yearning.” She dropped her eyes and scuffed her toe against the floor. “I don’t know how else to explain.”
“You don’t need to.” He brushed his fingertips over her cheek, and Sage leaned into his palm. Heat rolled through her at the connection, riding along her nerves and cutting through all the anxiety that tried to claim her every second of the day. Even her cat, always so unpredictable in her head, brushed and rubbed against her in contentment.
She slid her eyes closed to deepen the sensation.
The air pressing against her skin shifted as he closed the gap between them. His fingers curled slightly against her cheek, and she felt a soft whisper of breath right before he slid his lips against hers.
The kiss was entirely different from the one he’d given her at the bar. He’d been all hard muscle and pure domination then. This one was slow and gentle. The softer brushes of exploration kindled a need deep in her core that threatened to blaze hotter than a forest fire.
Rhys slid his hand into her hair, tangling his fingers in the strands. The gentle tug tilted her head back and gave him better access to her mouth. He nibbled his way over her lips, soothing over any hurts he might have caused with a swipe of his tongue. Her mouth parted, and he deepened the kiss.
Not breaking the kiss, he took a step down the hall, pulling her with him. One step turned to three, and when she cracked her lids to peek, they were standing in the middle of her living room.
Rhys let his hands fall to her hips. His thumbs slipped under her shirt and rubbed slow circles against her skin. Heat flared to life up and down her body, under his thumbs, where their knees bumped together, right in her very center.
She wanted more. More of him. More of his taste on her tongue. More of his hands on her body.
But deep in her head, the familiar skeletal hand of panic crawled forward. The warmth he’d bathed her in died under that cold touch.
Rhys wasn’t Jasper.
The hands on her weren’t going to claw and maim.
She wouldn’t be locked down by silver.
She slammed her eyes closed and tried to will it away. She wanted to be normal. She wanted to be there, in that moment. His arms wrapped around her, his body pressed against hers…
Head spinning, she pushed him away.
Rhys staggered back and took a heavy seat on the couch. Forearms on his thighs and tips of his fingers pressed together, he let his head hang as he dragged down one deep breath after another.
“I’m sorry,” she panted. “Not yet. I tried, but not yet.”
“Breathe, Sage. Just breathe,” he answered in a strained voice. “You decide what you want and when you want it.”
She’d let herself start to believe she could be as fierce as Rhys’s lioness carving, only to have those brief flashes of bravery ripped away when her father demanded her return. Not to mention her little freak out over his kiss!
She could still feel the words he’d whispered in her ear. Did you like what you saw?
Her heart thundered in her chest, the same as it’d done while she watched him don his clothes in her own private reverse strip show.
He was there for her. He gave her all the pretty words she wanted to hear. But they weren’t just words with Rhys. He gave her the actions to back them up. He offered his hand, set her back on her feet, and let her find her way.
He didn’t get frustrated when she needed space, either. Rhys backed off and let her breathe.
And now… she wanted more. Craved it. Needed it from the man who made her lioness perk up and make sense for the first time in months. He had her entire attention, even if she couldn’t give him everything she wanted.
Yet.
She unglued her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “What would you do? If you could?”
Only his eyes moved. Deep, dark blue flicked up and pinned her in place as a low, rumbling purr vibrated the air. “What would I do?” he repeated. His purr turned to a groan. “Whatever you’d like me to do. Whatever you’d let me do.”
She swallowed hard. Her stomach shot straight to her toes with the same excited trepidation of the first sudden drop on a rollercoaster. “Which would be?” she urged.
This wasn’t her. The words were channeled from some alien being, not the scared, powerless creature she’d become.
Rhys cocked his head, a slow smile ticking up the corners of his mouth. “I’d loop an arm around you and pull you close. Run my free hand up your arm and over your shoulder until I caught your chin between my fingers. Your heart is pounding so hard, Sage. It’s louder than anything I’ve ever heard.”
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. She prayed she wouldn’t
