cool and be what I thought you wanted me to be.”
“Well, I’m a guy. And guys believe what you tell them. We’re not good with hints, or beating around the bush, or any of that shit. We ask a question, you give an answer, the end.”
“Shit,” I breathed out on a slight laugh.
Dalton sighed and shifted on the bed, turning so he was completely facing me. “And while we’re being honest, I was terrified to push you too hard. I mean, I wanted us to be together officially, but I thought that if I pushed you for that, you’d bolt. And I didn’t want you to run away.” He reached out his hand and looped his index finger around mine.
His touch was warm and sent tingles throughout my body. Curling my finger around his, I said, “And I thought that wasn’t what you wanted at all, so I pretended that I didn’t want it either. But I did. Why didn’t we ever talk about all this back then?”
“Well, my excuse is that I grew up in such a dysfunctional house, so I figured not talking about things was normal. I never wanted to lose you, Cammie, but in the end, I did anyway.”
“We’re a mess,” I admitted as Dalton’s phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket.
Glancing down, he muttered a curse. “I have to take this. Sorry,” he said before I waved him off. “What’s up?” he barked into the phone, then listened. “Right now? He is? You’re sure? Yeah, I know. Got it. Thanks, Eddie.”
He ended the call and moved from the bed. “I’m so sorry, Cammie, I have to go. That case we’re working on. I can’t say anything else, but, well, I have to go.”
“It’s okay.” I let out a frustrated breath, pulled between being disappointed that our night was ending already and respecting his profession. “Go.”
He reached out his hand for me and tugged me from the bed before pulling me against his chest. “You’re so little without your shoes on.” He looked down at me and I grimaced.
“You’re so . . . Ah, crap, I’ve got nothing.” I laughed as a comeback escaped me.
“Here.” He moved me away and shoved his phone in my hands. “Put your number in my phone. I’m not letting you get away this time.” He stared down at me, giving me a mock stern look. “I hope I’m being clear.”
I typed my information in his cell, smiling like an idiot the whole time. “You want my phone number, you’ve got it.”
“I want more than your phone number, Cammie. But I guess that will have to wait until I see you again.” He smiled, tucking his phone back into his pants. “I’ll call you as soon as I can. I want to see you,” he said as he backed away toward the door.
Torn, I stood there speechless for a moment. I wanted so badly to chase after him and pull him to me, but my feet refused to move, and all I could do was mumble, “Okay.”
Admiring the man he had become, I watched as he made his way to the door. He reached for the handle, turned it and started to step out, then pivoted and took two swift strides back toward me. Before I could even think a single thought, his lips were pressed against mine, his tongue begging for entry.
I opened my mouth and allowed him in. Dalton had grown more skilled in the last ten years, his kisses no longer frantic or rushed or sloppy. This was a man who took his time doing things. Our mouths moved in sync, our tongues caressing each other’s, the heat between us growing. His hand splayed across my back and I leaned against it, reveling in his strong touch. His lips were so soft, a stark contrast to the way his prickly stubble felt as his mouth moved against mine.
I wanted to pull him back on top of the bed and never let this moment end, but he moved us apart slowly, breaking our kiss. Leaning his forehead against mine, he said softly, “I couldn’t leave without doing that. Hell, I’d been waiting to do it all night. Call you soon.”
Dumbfounded, I lifted a hand to my lips and said nothing as he walked out and pulled the door shut. As my heart
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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