He kept his weight braced against the wall, aware he’d probably grunt if he twisted funny. “I think you know me better than that.”
“I thought I did, but…” She toed the floor, looking lost and sexy at the same time. “I don’t want to fight, Coulter. I just need you to answer one question.”
He arched a brow. “I thought it was my turn to ask the questions, but shoot.”
She squared her shoulders, looking as if she’d braced for some kind of physical impact. “If none of this had happened, if I’d been waiting at home, would you have knocked on my door as planned? Or had you already blown me off?”
Her words hit deep, the truth to them more than humbling.
He pushed off the wall, hating the twitch of his mouth that definitely didn’t go unnoticed. “Honestly? I had every intention of picking up roses and waiting on your porch.”
She cocked her head to the side. “But…”
“No buts, Neve. I guess I just always thought we had time. That you’d always be there.” He raked his fingers through his hair, doing his best not to wince. “Arrogant, I know. And cruel. Not seeing things from your perspective. Realizing how much you’d sacrificed… Are still sacrificing.”
He stepped into her, made her palm his chest again in order to keep him from backing her up against the bed. “Thinking I’d lost you… I’m fucking scared to admit how much that broke me. How far I fell. So, watching you today, knowing it could happen again. That, despite being within reach, I might not be able to save you…”
He leaned forward, rested his forehead on hers. “I don’t know how to shove it down. How to bury the fear because I already buried you. And I can’t…”
Her fingers landed on his neck before shifting back, threading through his hair as she held him tight against her. “Life doesn’t come with guarantees, baby. And the only reason I ran out on that beam was because the thought of losing you, again…” Her voice roughened. “I’m scared, too.”
He eased back, cupped her jaw. “I don’t want to go back to my room. In fact, I don’t want my own room.”
Her smile dimmed the lights, had his breath catching, his heart pounding out a shaky rhythm. “Careful, because it sounds as if we might finally be on the same page.”
“Good. Then you won’t dump me on my ass when I do this…”
He drew her to him with a shift of his hand, his mouth slanting over hers, all the heat and expectation that had been simmering beneath his skin burning to life. Starting a fire only her full surrender would quench.
Neve moaned into the kiss, tangling her tongue with his once he’d slipped it inside, tasted every inch of her before pulling back, lowering his head when she fisted his shirt, yanked it over his head.
Her breath hissed out around them, her fingers landing softly on his chest. “Jesus, Coulter…”
He placed his hand over hers, holding it against him. “I’m fine.”
“Tell that to all the bruising.” She smoothed her hands lightly over the blemishes, frowning when he tensed. “You need to rest. C’mon, we can cuddle?—”
Coulter fisted her hair, held her head still as he dipped down, claimed her mouth. He didn’t wait for an invitation, just twisted her lips open, delved inside. She responded, her fingers digging into his back, one calf wrapped around his.
This was what he needed — Neve, writhing in his arms, riding his thigh as he traced every inch, pulled away in order to kiss a path down her neck, suck at her pulse point before working his way back up, tasting her all over again.
She slid her hands up, curled her fingers into his hair, keeping an inch of space between her chest and his as she fought for control, finally surrendering. He smiled against her lips, nipping at the bottom one when his ribs shifted as he twisted, a muffled grunt clawing free before he managed to crush it.
Neve froze, her fingers still in his hair, her face flushed as she panted. She glanced at his chest, then back to him. “Coulter…”
“I just twisted funny. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“I’ve been an ass long enough. I’m not about to let a bit of bruising derail the rest of the night.”
Neve eased her fingers free as she hitched one hip out to the side. “Jesus, Coulter, I don’t want you to muscle through this. Treat making love to me like an op.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Fine. I’ll make you a deal.” She motioned behind her. “If you can pick me up and carry me to the bed without so much as a grimace, a twitch of your eye, you can spend the rest of the night pounding me into it.”
Coulter eyed the four steps to the bed. While he stood by his statement, that any discomfort would be more than worth it, he wasn’t going to start the rest of their lives off by lying. He reached out, traced the outline of her breast with one finger, the simple touch spiking his need until he wasn’t sure he could hold off long enough not to embarrass himself let alone another day. “You know I can’t, but that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy myself.”