“Because you could die!”
“I’ll die anyway!” Her heart was pounding madly. “We have no cure, no fountain. I’m as good as dead no matter what. But you still barely look at me—“
“Is that what you want?” His voice was loud and angry, but he looked wounded. “You want me to lookat you?” His eyes were wild as he walked forward and brought his face close to hers, his cheeks flushed with desperation. “Well, here you go, Scar. Me lookingat you.” He scanned her face in frustration. “How’s this? Better? Easier?” he sneered. His hot breath warmed her jaw and neck as he stared at her in anguish.
Pain. Heartbreak. Sorrow. The small space between their hearts was quickly filling up with everything they couldn’t change.
“No. It’s not easier!” Scarlet tilted her chin up. Her heart hurt. Her chest hurt. Her eyes stung with tears. “It hurts like hell. But it’s better than feeling like you don’t want me.”
“I dowant you!” he growled, grief and sadness clouding his eyes. “I want you more than my next breath.”
“Then stop pushing me away!”
He looked defeated and broken as he yelled. “I can’t have you, Scar!”
“Too bad!” Scarlet yelled back, a tear escaping her eye as she looked up at him, their faces less than an inch apart. “I’m already yours! I was yours in the forest and I’m yours right here—”
And then his mouth was on hers like wildfire, spreading with reckless abandon against her lips.
Hot and heavy, he kissed her with five-hundred years of need and Scarlet kissed him back with a want more powerful than she knew she possessed. Their lips grazed against one another, sending a blazing sensation down Scarlet’s body. Like butter melting down every inch of her skin, coating her with warmth and filling her with fire.
Scarlet parted her lips, desperate for more. More heat. More love. More Tristan.
Tristan kissed her without reservation. Passionately. Hungrily. Their tongues gliding in and around the delicate flesh of each other’s mouths.
Scarlet pressed as much of her body as possible against his bare chest and hips, bringing her hands up to his large shoulders where they molded against the muscles that flexed beneath her fingertips.
Tristan wrapped his hand around her waist, pulling her against him as his fingers skidded down her back to her hip.
Scarlet buried her hands into his shaggy hair, arching her back to taste more of him, feel more of him as his other hand moved around her body until he was gripping her hips and pulling them closer to his own. Walking her backwards, he pressed her up against the nearest wall and slid his hands beneath her shirt.
His palms molded against her bare hips as his thumbs ran down the sensitive skin of her lower stomach until they were tucked into the waistline of her pants.
Scarlet exhaled in bliss as he kissed his way along her jaw until his warm breath caressed her ear.
Scarlet shivered.
Tristan groaned.
He ran his mouth down her jawbone and to her throat, gently sucking at the delicate skin that lay between her pulse and his lips. Scarlet turned her face to the ceiling, loving the feel of Tristan’s lips on her skin.
His hands held steady to her hips, locking her into place against his body and Scarlet never wanted to be free. She wanted to be forever imprisoned in the space between Tristan’s hands and his heart, where heat and passion collided and her skin hummed in pleasure.
His mouth roamed back to hers and Scarlet eagerly kissed him back, feeling his hand slide up from her hip to her ribcage, a trail of heat tracing after it. With a soft moan, she sank her mouth into his, moving her hips against his body.
Scarlet dropped her hands from his hair and let them fall down his chest, down his torso, wishing she could climb inside him as his hands ran up her sides, pulling her shirt up with them.
Kissing and sucking and breathing against his mouth, she slipped her hand inside the waistband of his jeans and ran her fingers along the tattoo she knew so well. Dipping lower…and lower.
Her heart was pounding so hard, she could barely hear their ragged breathing. Her stomach was exposed, her hot skin rubbing against his tattoo as his hands and his mouth claimed her.
She wanted to be closer to him. So much closer.
And then her eyes caught fire, pain ripping through the core of her body and sucking the air from her lungs as agony wracked her insides. An involuntary whimper escaped her mouth and, like a toy being snatched from her hand, Tristan abruptly pulled away from her—taking his lips, his heat, and his heart with him.
Everything inside Scarlet cried out at the disconnection. It was agonizing, not being connected to Tristan, even though her pain his immediately stopped once he pulled away.
A moment passed as Scarlet waited for her heart to calm down.
When her eyes had finally cooled, Scarlet opened them to see a terrified Tristan standing on the other side of the room. He was breathing heavy and his hair was a mess.
But his eyes….
His eyes were horrified.
“Tristan, I—”
“I hurt you.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth, looking like he wanted to die. “I hurt you,” he repeated.
“No,” Scarlet lied, shaking her head vehemently.
But lying was futile.
Because of their connection, Scarlet knew Tristan had felt her pain. She couldn’t deceive him. She couldn’t convince him to bring his lips back to hers.
It was over.
Their kiss, their touch. It was over.
Tristan would never kiss her again.
51
“Scarlet did what?” Gabriel could hardly believe his ears as Heather explained how Scarlet had left to find Tristan. Running out the back door, Gabriel started calling Scarlet’s name.
Clouds covered the moon, making it impossible to see anything in the dark night.
Gabriel ran back inside the cabin to get a flashlight.
Heather met him at the door and bounced up and down nervously. “Don’t be mad, don’t be mad. I didn’t know what to do.”
“So you just left her?” Gabriel charged into the kitchen, throwing open cabinets in search of a flashlight.
“Only for a minute. To find you.”
“You shouldn’t have left her, Heather!” Gabriel walked down the hallway, to the office. Where the hell did they keep their flashlights?
Heather’s face was red and flustered as she stopped in front of him. “Well, if you hadn’t been sleeping like a comatose rock, maybe we would have made it back down to the basement before little Miss Escapes-A-Lot got away!”