Page 70 of Nothing to Fear

She stroked his cheek with the warmest, lightest touch, making the fine hairs on his body tingle. “You have a tough job, an ugly job most couldn’t handle. You help stop darkness and death and chaos from spreading, and I admire the fortitude it must take. Just because you’ve done monstrous things to protect our country doesn’t mean you’re a monster. You’re a good man.”

For the first time in a long time, he wanted to believe that was true.

Buttery-soft lips grazed his, but he held back. She kissed him and her tongue slipped inside his mouth, searching for his. In this intimate bubble they’d somehow created, it seemed cruel not to give her the response they both craved. He wrapped his arm around her, his tongue finding hers, and consumed her with a slow hunger.

It’s just a kiss, but with giving in, there was this unexpected, intense relief. His heart bucked liked a horse against his rib cage, his pulse racing while the rest of him relaxed. As though a weight lifted and his entire body sighed with happiness.

He gripped her tighter, yearning for more in the tangle of dark wanting. The sweet heat from her was enough to melt the ice in his soul and fill up the dead spaces with warmth.

But when his hands roamed over her bare skin—up her smooth thigh and cupped the sensuous curve of her backside—the kiss was no longer just a kiss, and he stopped.

Longing broke over her face, and something equally forceful spilled through him.

“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered. “Make love to me.”

Temptation was a steel cable tightening through him. “I want to, but…” No one had ever expected him to make love.

He was in way over his head. Sex, or rather fucking, was something he did well, but this thing with Willow left him so far out of his depth. At almost twice Willow’s weight, he needed self-control and a gentle approach to give her what she deserved without hurting her. But in some things, he simply wasn’t capable.

“We don’t have condoms. It’s for the best.” A dirty list of other things they could do flashed in his head, but he shook off the devilish thought.

“You had your last physical May 21. Your blood work was clean. Unless you’ve had unprotected sex with someone since, what’s the problem?”

Okay, she really knew a heck of a lot about him and was doing too fine a job painting him into a corner. “Do you hack into everyone’s records, or am I lucky?” His tone was rougher than he intended.

She reeled back, her features pinching. “I’m sorry. I was curious—”

He crushed his mouth to hers, silencing her with a kiss, and held her close. The breach of his privacy should’ve felt like a gross violation, but it was an excavation, freeing him. He’d spent years in a loveless marriage, hiding who he was because everything was classified, because he’d been taught too well never to share. The marathon of lies and omissions exhausted him and kept him at a distance from everyone else.

It was a relief for someone to know the truth, see the real him. And still want him.

“I haven’t been with anyone since my physical, but we can’t risk you getting pregnant.”

Her face brightened. “Ivy got me an IUD when I was seventeen after Michael Dutton tried to force himself on me. I get it replaced every five years. I’m not due again until next year.”

His heart clenched, and he wanted to pulverize a dude named Michael. “What? Did he hurt you?” Once they cleared her name, he’d pay this Dutton a visit. Gideon had never killed a civilian or enjoyed torturing others, but there was a first time for everything.

“Yes, but…” She shook her head. “It was in college. He was a lot older and got really rough. I gave him a black eye, and he left me alone.”

Lucky for Michael Dutton.

“I want to be with someone I’m crazy-attracted to. Someone who makes my body come alive, who makes me feel safe. That’s you, Gideon.”

She moved her thigh, inadvertently brushing his groin. He nearly shot out of his skin. There was no angle at which he could shift now to keep his erection from pressing against her.

With the staples in his side and sheer exhaustion, maybe he could be gentle. Maybe it was possible to have her and maintain a grip on the situation, if there were firm rules.

Or maybe he was being foolish and reckless.

One thing he knew for certain—the woman made him a reckless fool.

“We need to establish rules first.”

“I love rules. They keep me from making mistakes.”

“If we do this, it has to be like Vegas. What happens on the boat stays on the boat. I can’t promise anything more. And don’t confuse lust with another four-letter word.”

There he went, turning yellow-bellied, couldn’t even say it. Love. As if to utter the single syllable meant one or both of them might catch it like a disease.