Which made me wonder…if my stutter might have something to do with fear. If now, with my instincts focused on protecting her, my mind not thinking about whether or not I could talk in a life-or-death situation, I might be freed of it entirely.
I licked my lips and closed my eyes, focusing on the smell of her hair rather than the words I was about to say.
“Talk to me about something, Tasha.”
Just as clean as you please. My heart mule-kicked my chest. My voice sounded like the old me, the words rolling off the tip of my tongue.
Damn, but that felt good. To be able to express an idea without stammering or stuttering or pausing to say “um” or “uh.” But the girl holding me didn’t point out my mini breakthrough.
“I don’t want to talk. I’m terrified.”
“You’re safe,” I assured her, knowing she was. Tornados rarely hit anywhere around Ridgeway. We were in a valley. Other than high winds and blustering threats that didn’t pan out, we rarely suffered wrath worse than a few downed branches.
“I can’t even think.” She lifted her head and I felt her lips graze my jaw. “I just want to sit here with you.”
My skin erupted like a volcano, heat threading down my limbs.
Her next words were whispered in a shredded breath. “I don’t want to talk.”
Did she mean—?
I turned my head, my lips almost touching hers. Want echoed in her gaze and in the way her fingers clutched onto me.
I kissed her.
In spite of the howling wind and pinging hail and the television announcing we were doomed if we didn’t take cover, I lost myself in the feel of Tasha’s mouth. In the soft pull of her lips and the taste of peppermint her breath had promised.
She tilted her head and came closer, her hand gliding over my chest as she tasted me back. I was suddenly glad I’d worked hard to maintain my muscle mass—to keep my body strong. She enjoyed touching me, and I was enjoying it a hell of a lot myself.
I had no idea how long we sat there making out, but before long, my breaths had shortened to pants, and hers had disintegrated to tiny, tantalizing mewls.
She was practically on my lap anyway so, my hands on her ass, I hauled her the rest of the way and settled her over my now-raging erection. My fingers speared her hair, pushing it away from her face so I could gain access to more of her mouth. That was my favorite part of her.
So far.
My dick throbbed.
“Cade,” she panted.
I deepened our kiss, stopping her words. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want her to talk. I wanted my hands under her shirt, her nipples peaking under the pinch of my fingertips. I wanted to snick down the zipper of her shorts and find her slick and ready and…
“Cade,” she repeated, pulling her lips away from mine.
My hand tightened at the back of her neck as my chest rose and fell in a hectic rhythm.
“What?” I growled, out of breath and blind with lust.
She smiled, which only made my heart rate escalate. “The siren is off.”
Don’t care.I kissed her again.
“This is unethical.” She giggled. “You’re my patient.”
“I’m, um, impatient,” I corrected, my voice low. Welcome back, speech problem. I huffed a frustrated breath through my nose, one that blew her rain-dampened hair against her cheek. She pushed the stray lock behind her ear and her smile vanished.
“I should probably go?”
She said it like a question.