Her heart broke into a sprint from their position, from her desire to feel him atop her, and Crystal arched a brow. “I’d say you do.”
“Good. I’ve seen you with Bruno, and I’ve seen you while you’re working. And I know you put on an act that’s exactly what people want to see. Doing that made sense in those situations. But, Crystal, you never ever have to pretend with me. Disagree with me. Challenge me. Get mad at me. Tell me you need space. I’ll be okay with all of it. I want the real you, not an illusion or a performance. Does that make sense?”
The backs of her eyes stung at the insight of his words. “Perfect sense,” she said. “I’m just so used to doing it.”
He nodded, an intense expression on his handsome face. “I get that. It was a survival skill. But nothing will threaten you here. You can be yourself.”
Emotion caught in her throat, along with an anguished whimper. “I’m not sure who that is anymore,” she said in a tight voice.
Compassion filled his eyes. “Maybe I can help you figure it out. If you think I can, I’d like that.”
She gave a quick nod and batted away the tears that leaked from the corner of one eye. There was one thing she could do to be more herself, but would he be mad that she hadn’t told him sooner? God, she’d told him so many lies and half-truths, not because she’d intended to deceive, necessarily, but because she’d lived a life where secrets ensured survival.
“Now, why did what I said about the room bother you?”
Her gaze dragged down his chest, needing a break from the intensity of his eyes. Crystal wasn’t sure she’d ever known anyone as observant as Shane. “I liked that you said it could be my space, but I guess . . . I was hoping . . . that we could share it. But I totally understand if you’d rather—”
His hand against the top of her hair, Shane settled his body against the side of hers and kissed her on a groan. His lips were commanding but not rough. His tongue, caressing but not aggressive. She threaded her arms around his neck, wanting to make sure he didn’t go anywhere. God, it had only been a matter of hours, but she’d missed this closeness with him.
When he pulled away, he traced his nose along the contours of her face. “I would love to share this room—this bed—with you, but I don’t want to make you feel pressured. I want you, Crystal. I’ve told you that before. But I don’t have a right to you. No man does. It’s your choice. And even if you say yes now, to anything, you can always change your mind, okay?”
She hadn’t yet told him much about what the last four years had entailed, but it was clear that Shane had deduced a decent number of things for himself. More important, though, was the fact that he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear. And that made her feel safe to consider sharing herself with Shane in a whole variety of ways.
“Okay,” she said, nodding. “Well, I like this a lot,” she said, pressing her lips to his. “And I like when you touch me. And I’d like to sleep with you in this bed.” She shivered, the unusual expression of her most honest feelings spiking adrenaline through her system. As she talked, he stroked her hair and face, and it made her feel adored. “I . . . I want you, too. But I, um . . .” Crystal shook her head. “I’m not sure that I’m ready for more tonight.” Nearly holding her breath, she forced herself to meet Shane’s gaze, and his eyes absolutely radiated desire and respect and understanding.
Shane brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, once, twice. “I understand. Thank you for telling me where you are.” He winked and waggled his eyebrows. “For the record, I like the kissing and the touching, too.”
Crystal laughed and felt her cheeks warm. “Good to know,” she said, dropping her hands on either side of her head. Out of nowhere, a yawn tackled her. Crystal turned her head so she didn’t yawn in Shane’s face. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We could get changed, get ready for bed. That way if you start drifting off, it doesn’t matter?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” she said.
With a final kiss, Shane lifted off of her. And though she missed him immediately, her stomach did a loop-the-loop for the idea that in a few minutes, they were going to be lying in that bed for real, under the covers, together. He extended a hand and pulled her to her feet.
Crouching at one of his big green duffels, Shane yanked open the zipper. “What would you be most comfortable sleeping in?” he asked. “I’ve got plenty of T-shirts and sweats.” He rifled through a stack of folded clothing and pulled a few things out.
But Crystal’s gaze landed on the blue button-down on his back. Maybe it was ridiculous, but the idea of sleeping in something that he’d been wearing, that still held the heat of his body and the scent of his skin, sounded so thrilling that her brain refused to shake the idea. And he did say that he wanted the real her.
Crystal stepped forward and gently grasped the edge of his collar, and then she tugged.
“What?” he asked, looking up.
“I want to sleep in this,” she whispered. “I mean, if you don’t—”
Shane rose to his feet abruptly, and they stood so close that he towered over her. Roughly, he unbuttoned the shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. “Don’t you dare say anything in the neighborhood of an apology for telling me what you want. Because I think this is a damn good idea.” His gaze nearly scorched her as he spoke, spiking her pulse and heating her blood.
He whipped the cotton from his body revealing beautiful, masculine perfection. His chest and abdomen were made of sculpted muscles, graceful and powerful at the same time. The hard, curving lines beckoned her hands, which lifted without her telling them to. Her fingers landed on his belly, and he sucked in a breath that drew her gaze to his eyes.
Desire roared off him in the heat of his gaze, the opening of his mouth, the flicking of his tongue against his lip, his more rapid breathing.
In a slow revelry of movement, Crystal smoothed her hands and fingers over his skin, exploring the cut of muscle above his hips, the ridges covering his stomach, and the hard pads of his pecs. The feel of him made her mouth water and the nerves between her legs tingle.
She pressed a kiss to the winged-heart tattoo, so grateful he’d shared the image and the story behind it when she’d needed it most. Shane shuddered out a harsh breath.
It was clear from the bulge filling the front of his jeans that she was tormenting him—not that he complained. But that didn’t stop her from wanting to explore more of him.
Shifting to his side, she rubbed her hands up his arm where she found another tattoo on the outside of his right biceps, two crossed arrows beneath an upward-pointing dagger. Something military, maybe? Something hot, definitely.
As she stepped all the way around him, the large tattoo she’d only seen at a distance came into view. Crystal gasped. “This is magnificent,” she said, tracing her fingers over the wings of the aggressive bald eagle that covered his skin from his neck most of the way down his back. Its sharp beak was open as if in a screech, and its talons seemed poised to grasp its prey. “Why?” she asked.
“Eagles are the kings of the birds of prey,” came his deep voice. “They’re known for seeing what other creatures cannot and closing in on their prey before it even knows it’s being hunted.”
“And you admire these things?” she said, stroking her fingers down his spine and watching his muscles twitch.
Shane looked over his shoulder at her. “They were qualities that made me a damn good soldier. And the best feeling when you’re out in the field isn’t knowing your teammates have your back. It’s knowing that you have the ability to have theirs.”