Chapter Eighteen: Love Wins

Chapter Eighteen

Willow

LOVE WINS

Performed by Carrie Underwood

After years of saying nothing, talking about that night and what had happened afterward broke open a scab that had barely healed. I saw Dad's bloody, mangled body again. I saw the evil pouring from Danny's and Roci's eyes. It made it feel like that evil could find me simply because I'd spoken the words aloud.

After being on the witness stand, I thought I'd never talk about what had happened ever again. I couldn't even tell a therapist about it. But now, having told Lincoln, it was as if one weight had been lifted while another had been added. I'd shared my burden, but now he was tied up in it too. I'd put him at risk in order to lighten my own load.

My jaw clenched tight as I saw the worry creasing his brows. I'd wanted so badly to turn his scowls into smiles, and now I'd done the opposite. Brought more grief.

I inhaled deeply, trying to push back the ugly memories enough to offer some reassurance. "I believe it's Poco rather than the Viceroys because Aaron isn't the kind to give a warning shot. He'd just send his men in, guns blazing to end me and whoever was with me. My mom…you…"

His eyebrows raised. "You're worried about me? After all that?" Then realization seemed to hit him. "The other day, when you said you were worried I'd get hurt, it had nothing to do with Poco or even really who I am. It's because you're afraid they'll come after me too."

It wasn't a question because he knew it was true. The risk was just too great for all of us.

I wanted him so much it was its own kind of torture. It wasn't just about looking for love and happiness, or marking off a few more experiences in my journal, or finding someone who would love me enough to not care about the risk of my having a fatal health condition. This was about Lincoln. About wanting to add joy and comfort to his life. To help him shove off some of the burdens clinging to him. But I'd never put someone I cared about in physical danger.

I couldn't be with him, or anyone, if I was going to lead the Viceroys to their door.

I'd convinced myself it was behind me.

But the truth was as harsh as the red ink on the letter that had been left at my door. I swallowed over the large lump that had formed in my throat and whispered, "You shouldn't be anywhere near me."

He closed the distance, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, fingers lingering on my skin, and his voice dropped to a sensual hum. "It's too late, Sweetness. I'm here. I'm in your life. Fate took it out of both our hands."

Frustration welled at the beauty and ridiculousness of his words, and I welcomed that feeling as it helped shove back the fear and sorrow. "Fate isn't a real thing," I huffed out. Because if it was, I had some serious bones to pick with it.

"Fate is just one of the many unexplainable things I believe are real. I have it on good authority that you've come into my life for a reason." He said it with a conviction hard to discount.

"So, what? You've talked with God?"

Apprehension clouded his eyes as they darted to the side of the kitchen just like I'd seen him do while he'd shared his secrets with me, as if he was seeing something or someone. But then, he looked at me, and his mouth broke into that stunning, glowing, full smile that made me feel special every time I experienced it. The one that was mine, and mine alone, and made me forget every reason for not being with him.

"Maybe an angel or two," he said as he wrapped an arm around my waist and drew me closer. I threw my head back to look up at him, confusion warring with the frustration even as desire burst through me as our bodies collided. I didn't just feel him everywhere we touched. It went so much deeper. Like souls touching souls.

When my eyes locked with his, the fire I found there took my breath and sent it sailing.

Our heartbeats pounded together.

He scoured my face, and I wasn't sure what he was searching for. All I knew was this—the feeling I had tucked up against him was something good and beautiful. Feelings I could let push away the ugly that had crossed my path. Bright shimmers of hope I yearned to have. It wasn't just a connection with some random person I craved. I wanted it with this brave, gorgeous man. I wanted all my joyous experiences to be with Lincoln.

It was too much. Too fast. Too ridiculous.

But as his gaze slipped down to my mouth and back, my breath evaporated once more, my blood boiled, and my limbs grew roots.

"I'm going to kiss you," he said huskily. "Because if I don't, I'll never sleep again. I'll spend every single minute of every night wondering if you taste as sweet as you smell."

When I didn't pull away, when I didn't even shift a millimeter, his head descended, mouth inching closer. He stopped with his lips so close to mine an exhale would have them touching as he whispered, "Last chance to slap me and send me on my way."

My response was to push up on my toes and smash our mouths together.

The world exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors and smells and emotions right before everything in the room disappeared, leaving only the bright light of me and Lincoln and our skin touching. Like walking through the gates of heaven.

He'd spoken of angels, and I'd seen him as one. An archangel, a godlike apparition lassoing me to him with a golden rope that would be impossible to remove once it wrapped around me. And I didn't care if it tethered me to him for an eternity. Because the touch of his lips—the brilliance and heat of it—was a paradise I welcomed. It was a moment that moved beyond simple existence to a place where love was created. Beauty was crafted. Where memories would linger until time stopped.

The pressure of his lips increased, causing tingles to spread from the balls of my feet to the tip of my head. A sigh of pleasure escaped me, and Lincoln licked into me, tongue lapping inside smoothly, swiftly, assuredly. Sipping, tasting, discovering.

He fisted my hair, angling our mouths so he could discover every corner and savor every drop. He dragged me closer until we became one. No longer two beings. No longer two souls. Just one heartbeat. One gasping breath. One hot, fiery touch.

It was like standing in the middle of a flame and watching the world burn around you, knowing there'd be nothing left when it was over and not caring. Rejoicing in it instead.

Never in my wildest dreams had I considered a kiss could be like this.

A beginning and an end.

He shifted our bodies, lifting me onto his counter, fingers digging into my hips, and then soothing the pain. All the while, his lips and tongue did things to me, to my soul, that I could only describe as magic.

Pure enchantment.

He groaned, whispering throatily, "I knew it. I knew you'd taste just like you smell. Toasted butter and sugar. Cotton candy. Addiction." And then he devoured me all over again. As if he'd never get enough. As if he was afraid I'd disappear.

I answered each move with my own desperate ones, needing this to continue forever. Needing to live in this moment permanently so I'd never have to step outside of the heaven we were creating. My hands slid under his sweater, smooth skin hitting my palms and radiating a heat that made me shiver. The very best kind of tremors. Nothing scary. Nothing dreadful. Glory. Pure splendor.

The hand he had fisted in my hair dragged my head backward, exposing my neck. His blue eyes were midnight skies as they drank me in from my flushed cheeks to my wet, bruised mouth. His breathing was as ragged as mine, warm air escaping those divine lips. I needed them back on me. I needed to keep the gates of heaven sealed around us so I wouldn't think. Wouldn't doubt. Wouldn't fear. My legs circled his waist, drawing him in. Rubbing our centers together. Molten lava spread through me at the motion, at the pure rawness of it.

"Kiss me again, Lincoln. Kiss me and make me believe in your fate and your angels."

And he did, lips searing into me. Tongue branding me. The moan that escaped me was needy and full of pleasure. His groan echoed it. His mouth slid over my jaw, onto my neck, sucking at the pulse point. It thudded wildly, as if my veins wanted to feel his kisses as much as my skin did. As if they were jealous to be inside my body instead of out.

His hands tugged at the hem of my T-shirt, and it was gone, flung from my body before I could even register we'd broken apart. Then, his hands and mouth were on me once more, showering needy kisses along my collarbone, my shoulder, and the swell of my breast.

My legs flexed. My core clenched.

No wonder people ended up pregnant. Because this enormous passion, this enormous, painful longing, demanded to be quenched. Needed an outlet. It commanded my body to find release. No other rational thought existed. Just the hunger and need.

He unsnapped my bra, and the sound registered in the haze just before his hands and those glorious demanding lips covered my breasts, sending all thought spiraling away again. My palms landed on the cool granite as my body arched into him, into the feel of burning…of being consumed.

"More," I heard myself murmur, not even sure I knew what I meant. Not even sure I knew how to make it happen. I moved my hips, rubbing against the hard length of him covered in denim.

Aching longing filled me.

He squeezed one tip as his tongue and teeth dragged on the other.

My entire being convulsed. Soul. Body. Mind. Pleasure ripped through me in ways I'd never experienced with my own hands and certainly never allowed a man close enough to cause.

The air filled with a sound I thought vaguely was me chanting his name as my body shook from the release.

"God, you're gorgeous," he said, throaty and deep.

His lips returned to mine, and the hunger was still there, but I sensed immediately that he was slowing us down. He turned the desperate plunder into lazy sips and sucks while all I wanted was to continue to live in the wild, white cloud of passion.

His mouth left mine completely, arms banding around me tightly, securing me to him even as I felt him letting go. My brain finally registered what we must look like. My naked chest pushed into his sweater, my skirt hiked up with my legs around his waist, and my breath coming in pants.

Embarrassment crept in amongst the lust.

He'd kissed me, and I'd gone at him like a person deprived.

It was exactly what I'd been for so many years. Deprived of human connection. The Viceroys had taken this from me, not only because of the fear I lived with but because I wasn't able to get tested for the FFI. If none of that had happened, and I'd had access to a genetic test, and Lincoln was standing before me, I'd dive in with full steam and never look back.

But that wasn't the case.

So, I'd take this moment—this wonderful, amazing, skin-tingling moment—and add it to my list of joyous experiences.

I pushed against his chest and the steel band of his arms, but his forehead landed in the crook of my neck.

His voice was raspy, hoarse and sexy as he said, "Don't. Just stop moving for a second."

My body flamed at the tone—and what it meant.

"God… Lincoln… I'm so—" His head whipped up, finger landing on my mouth.

"Don't you dare apologize. For what? For giving in to this thing that's been pulling at us since we met? For feeling? For accepting a few seconds of pleasure? Don't. Don't you dare. It was beautiful to see you unravel. You're beautiful."

A weight lifted, and I beamed up at him, his words marking me as much as his body had.

"It was just supposed to be a kiss." My lips twisted upward. "And then…"

"And then every damn cell ignited," he said, and I nodded, glad he'd felt it too. This was what life was supposed to be about. Not the ugly note pinned to a door, but this—passion and touch and pure humanity that burst through you without control.

I pushed back the lock of hair that always fell onto his forehead, meeting his gaze with a hungry one.

His throat bobbed. "It was beautiful. You're beautiful. But you need to stop touching me before the hunger I feel has me hauling you onto the floor and making love to you right here. I don't want our first time together to be fast and furious. I want to take my time with you. So, I'm not going to take our kiss and turn it into something you'll regret later because I lost control."

The simple idea of it, that he was about to lose control because of me, thrilled me. And I almost pushed. I looked down at his lips and felt myself leaning into him more. He caught my chin, saw the look in my eyes, and chuckled softly before stepping completely away.

The loss of his heat was almost as painful as the loss of his kiss had been. He leaned down and picked up both my T-shirt and bra. He tugged the shirt over my head with a gentleness that had me shaking from head to toe again. With want. With need. With a desire to rip it back off and do the same with his clothes. To take him up on the offer to make love on the stone tile of his kitchen floor.

The experience would be worth it, wouldn't it? With him? A happy memory I'd have until I departed this earth. It didn't have to be more.

I slid off the counter, and it caused our bodies to collide. The air vibrated with the unsatisfied craving humming through us. At least I knew he'd wanted this too. He'd started it, and yet, he'd also ended it.

He'd said it was beautiful. That I was beautiful.

But what did I know about any of it?

Nothing. On purpose, I knew nothing.

Whereas he'd likely had many women since that girl he'd spoken of dying in his car.

God…we'd both been talking about people we'd loved and lost.

Our emotions were incredibly high.

It was as if sharing our secrets, our burdens, had heightened what we'd already felt, taking the want already sifting between us and turning it into something more.

Except, he was right to have stopped us, because nothing we did here, nothing I allowed, would change the facts of my life—or the facts of his.

He'd said fate or angels had brought us together, but that couldn't be true because if it were, then God was having a great big laugh. The possibility of our lives blending for more than a few days was nil. And I wasn't sure I could survive the loss. Wasn't sure I could inflict that kind of damage on him if he ended up feeling as bound to me as I felt to him and then I was forced to walk away. I didn't want to be that cruel to either of us.