And then it ended.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, a surprising flush of color creeping up her throat, her lashes lowering to shield whatever he might have seen in her eyes. She pressed both hands to the knot at the top of the towel, squeezing so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I don’t know why I did that. It was a … mistake.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Using a harsh laugh to cover the sharp blast of disappointment that swept through him, Noah turned and sat back down at the desk. He kept his back to her while she went about getting ready for bed, and tried his damnedest not to think about sex. Or that lush body that she’d almost bared for him. Or how right it felt to have her with him. How much he liked her smiles and her laughter, even when they were edged with sarcasm.
And since when did he obsess over a woman’s smiles? That sure as hell wasn’t normal.
Damn it, why hadn’t he gotten laid when he’d had the chance?
Meaningless, harmless, easy sex wouldn’t have solved all his problems, but it would have taken the edge off this gnawing, frustrating need. Or at least he liked to think it would have. But Noah was beginning to have his doubts. This hunger tearing through his system was so raw, he probably could have screwed his way through twenty casual encounters, and still been in the same world of hurt. Because sex with Will would be … well, anything but casual.
And if he had to bet on it, he’d wager it would be unlike anything he’d ever had before. He didn’t doubt that for a second.
That was the problem right there. Nothing about burying himself inside Willow Broussard would be meaningless. Or harmless. Or easy. It would likely blow his mind, and he was already on shaky enough ground as it was. Did she have any idea how dangerous it was to play games with him, tempting him to lose control?
Trying hard to get his mind on something else, Noah took off his boots and socks while he waited for her to slip into bed. As he removed the knife and sheath he kept on his calf, he heard the rustle of covers as she slid between the sheets and turned off the lamp on her bedside table. There was still a faint glow of light spilling around the cracked bathroom door, and a frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. Had she left the light on so he wouldn’t be stumbling around in the dark? If she’d asked, he could have told her he didn’t need it. Thanks to the bite on his arm, his night vision was improving rapidly. He could damn near see as good in the dark now as he could in the light.
At any other time in his life, Noah would have probably been excited by the change in his sight, knowing it would make him better in a fight. But he couldn’t ignore the wary voice in his head that kept reminding him the changes in his body were only linking him closer to the monsters.
Choking back a bitter curse, he grabbed the gun tucked into the back of his jeans and set it on his bedside table. Then he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the back of the chair, and shucked off his jeans. He’d just grabbed the top of the covers, getting ready to pull them down so that he could slip beneath, when Willow lifted her head, shooting him a surprised look over her shoulder, the smooth skin bare but for the slim strap of a tank top.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she gasped.
Stretching out in the bed, Noah put his hands behind his head. As he stared up at the ceiling, he tried not to think about how insubstantial that tank top was and answered what he considered a fairly ridiculous question. “What do you think I’m doing, Will? I’m going to bed.”
He wasn’t crazy about sleeping in the same bed with her, since it was going to be damn hard to relax with her body so close to his—but it’s not like there were a lot of alternatives and he was dead on his feet.
He jumped when she twisted around and poked him in the arm with her finger. “Damn it!” he yelped, rubbing his arm as he shot her a scowl. “What was that for?”
“You are not sleeping in this bed,” she informed him, the haughty tone of her voice setting his teeth on edge. “You can sleep on the sofa.”
“Like hell,” he grumbled, wondering what her problem was. It’s not like he was going to attack her, no matter how badly he might like to. And there were acres of empty space between them. “That sofa’s three feet too short for me. And I bet it feels like plywood.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Tough.”
“What is it with you? You were ready to bare your ass to my friends a little while ago, but now you’re too shy to sleep in the same bed with me?”
“Not too shy,” she shot back with a grim smile. “Just unwilling.”
His temper started to slip away from him, and he forced his response through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to touch you, so just chill.”
She studied his face in the soft darkness, no doubt noticing how worn out he looked, and finally relented. “Fine. Whatever. Just stay on your side of the mattress.”
He grunted, wondering if he should be insulted that she’d apparently just decided he was too tired to be a threat. “The same goes for you,” he ground out with a disgruntled thread of amusement, certain it was the first time he’d ever warned a woman to stay away from him in bed.
She muttered something colorful in response as she gave him her back, and despite his shitty mood, Noah found himself grinning. He lay there for a long time in the quiet darkness, listening as her breathing eventually evened out with the calmness of sleep. He must have eventually dozed off, because sometime in the night he drifted slowly back to awareness. He knew, in an instant, that he was dreaming. And he didn’t want to wake up. Not yet. Unlike the gruesome nightmares that had plagued him for months, this one was too damn good to miss.
He was standing in the middle of a forest … and he was with Will. A bloodred moon hung low over the trees, scarred by the jagged edges of dark cloud that stretched across the sky. The air was warm, sweet with the scent of Willow’s skin, the night silent but for the whispering of the wind and their sawing breaths.
They were both dressed in jeans and T-shirts, but her nipples were pressed tight against the thin cotton, and Noah felt himself reaching out for her, covering the soft weight of her breast with his hand. She gasped, her head falling back, and with a low growl on his lips, he took her mouth in a desperate, searching kiss, as if he was trying to find the answer to something important. Something … vital.
Noah didn’t know how long they stayed in that tight, clutching embrace, arms wrapped around each other, the tenor of the kiss bordering on violence. He thrust his tongue against hers with a greed that left him shaken, then nipped at her bottom lip, unable to get enough of the sleek, petal-soft textures … the warm, honeylike taste. It was a rich, drugging sweetness that made his blood go thick, his cock pulsing with a raw, insistent ache. He ran his hands down her back until he gripped her ass, then yanked her close, her body soft and pliant against his hardness, melting into him.
God, he needed this. Even if it was only a dream. He needed all of her. Needed her on his tongue, on his skin. Needed to spread her open and drive his body inside hers until she’d taken every demanding inch of him. Until he could feel the hammering of her heartbeat thrumming around the heavy length of his cock as he stretched her open, her arms and legs locked tight around his body, holding him close. Binding him to her.
His hands gripped tighter as he lifted her up, grinding her against his erection with an animal-like sound of pleasure. He moved forward a few steps, trapping her against the gnarled trunk of a towering oak tree. Curving one hand around the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in her soft curls, he slid the other down the back of her thigh. As he lifted her leg higher on his hip, the position allowed him to rub more fully against the warm cushion of her sex. She moaned in response, whispering his name, and the soft sound of longing pierced right through him, like a bullet. It struck with a violent force that ripped him from the lush, delicious depths of the dream, jerking