“Messy, either way.”
“Life is messy.”
I rinsed and then shut off the water. I grabbed the faded blue towel on the rack and quickly dried off before wrapping it around me and sliding back the shower curtain.
Boxer was leaning against the sink, looking deceptively casual. “I think you’re doing a fair bit of deflecting, Doc.”
“Ask what you really want to ask,” I snapped.
His hands reached out to gently grasp my upper arms, and he rubbed his thumbs along my damp, warm skin. “Why can you be honest when it’s the middle of the night and I can’t see your eyes, but in broad fucking daylight, you can’t be real with me? You didn’t flinch, you didn’t panic, you didn’t break down. Why the hell not?”
“Did you and Ramsey talk or something?” I demanded. “Because he all but asked me the same thing last night after I put you to bed.”
“And that’s another thing. I won’t be put to bed, woman, unless you’re in it with me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Stop. Just stop.”
His grip tightened, and he hauled me toward him. Boxer’s lips covered mine, and then his tongue was in my mouth.
I knew the real problem between us.
He ripped the towel from my body and flung it to the floor. And then his hands were between my legs, questing, seeking, needing. My hands went to his flannel shirt and with clumsy fingers, I managed to get the buttons open. I pressed a palm to his warm skin.
He undid his belt buckle and shoved his pants to the floor, including his underwear, and then he was backing me up against the sink. Boxer lifted my leg, opening me to his sensual, heated gaze.
With one quick thrust, he buried himself inside me to the hilt. He pounded into me like it was a punishment, like he was angry at me for something I couldn’t name.
If anyone had any reason for anger, it was me. The Blue Angels had come to me. I’d put my career on the line. And Boxer was the one who’d taken a bullet.
He could’ve died.
I grabbed the back of his head, sinking my fingers into his hair. He wasn’t going to break. I had no reason to be gentle. Even when he was injured, Boxer was stronger than most men.
He rammed into me harder, without mercy. “You shut me out.”
We glared at one another as our mouths and words clashed. I bit his lip, tasting blood, tasting life.
“What is it you’re still hiding from me? Because I know there’s something.”
I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want him to see what I was truly feeling in that moment, so I closed my eyes and gave him everything I was feeling through touch instead of brutally honest words. My passion, my rage, my terror that we were all just one moment away from death and my fear that even though I was a doctor, I wasn’t God, and I had no control over anything.
So I let him use my body as a battlefield, and did the same to his.
We collided against the bathroom mirror, and I heard a crack. Boxer pulled me away and the mirror fell to the floor. Glass shattered and littered the ground.
Neither of us stopped to assess the damage.
I wanted it to be like this forever.
My heart beat with adrenaline and lust.
I knew what it truly meant to be alive in his arms, and for the first time in my life, I could finally admit what I’d been too damn scared to face.
I was in love with Boxer.
After my body shook and quaked and my orgasm nearly ripped me apart, I pressed my forehead to Boxer’s shoulder while my breathing returned to normal.
His arms tightened, and he just held me.