Page 38 of Untamed
“Because in the morning, when you’re not drunk, you’re not going to remember any of this.”
“No.” He shakes his head, his voice a soft murmur. “I’ll remember this.” He touches my cheek with calloused fingertips, pursing his lips as he searches for the words he wants to say. “Ican’tforget this.”
I’m not sure what that means because it’s clear, come morning, I’m untouchable again. I know by his face.
His mouth inches toward mine again, his eyes fluttering closed. His lips give me what his body won’t. I can settle for this, for now, because it’s him, and I can’t get enough of this cowboy and the pleasure he’s giving me tonight.
He pulls back and looks at me, struggling to pull away. “I’m not good for a girl like you.” I hate the way he says “girl like you.” There’s that predetermined assumption of who I am. My hands shake, my heart sputters. Does he think I’m a slut like they do?
It’s clear Grayer doesn’t want to stop, but the look in his eyes tells me something else. He’s scared. Of me, of my age, of this. . . .
“Why?” I reach out and touch the fire between us, his lips, with my fingertips. They part and give me his breath that scorches my skin. “Why do you fight this so much?”
“I’m just as troubled as you.” The way he says it makes me sad he believes it so much that he’s warning me. My hands slip off his shoulders completely—the last little piece of me that was connected to him falls away. Setting me down, he steps back, swallowing over a lump in his throat. “I can’t bring my problems on anyone else.”
