Chapter 71: HANS: Chapter 72

The warmth of her hand mixed with the pressure of her palm has my cock hardening the rest of the way.

“Dammit, Butterfly.” I lift my knee to hold the wheel, then press my left hand down on top of hers.

I need more pressure. I need all of her.

She nuzzles into my side. “Did you really break into my house?”

Is it breaking in when you have a key?

“Did you really not know?” I ask instead of answering, even though I already admitted the truth.

Cassandra shakes her head, but the movement slows. “Sometimes, I’d swear I could smell you.” She moves her hand beneath mine, massaging my length.

I shift my hips. “Smell me?”

“Yeah.” She turns her head into my body and inhales. And it lights me on fire.

She knew what I smelled like.

I have to lift my hand back up to the steering wheel to take a turn.

We’re close to the hotel now. So close. But I can’t get there quick enough.

“What do I smell like?” I’m doing my best to watch the road and not nut in my pants, so my voice is strained.

“Like pine trees.” She breathes me in again. “And man.”

I grunt, spotting the sign for the hotel ahead.

I slide my hand down Cassandra’s back and pat her ass. “We’re here.”

Her fingers squeeze me through my pants one last time, then she sits up. And I allow it.

Cassandra looks over at the backpack filled with her clothes. “I forgot to change.” She starts to dig through the clothes I’ve selected, then slowly turns to me, lifting out a pink lace thong and matching bra. “Do you know how long I looked for these? I wore them like once, and then, poof, they disappeared. I thought I was going crazy.”

I lift a shoulder. “Oops.”

“Oops?” She lets out a snort. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

Cute?

She stuffs the underwear back in the bag and zips it up.

“Guess I’m crazy too,” she mumbles.

“You’re not crazy.” I feel unreasonably angry hearing her say that about herself.

Flipping on my blinker, I turn into the parking ramp just before the hotel. They have valet parking, but I don’t let other people drive my truck.

Cassandra turns to me and lifts a brow. “No? I killed a man tonight.” She ticks the points off her fingers. “You have a room in your basement full of weapons and cameras aimed at my house. I watched you throw a dead body over a fence in the middle of nowhere. You’ve admitted to stalking me. You followed me to Mexico, where I saw you kill two men, but I know you killed more. Raging jealousy had me ready to fight more than one woman tonight. And now I’m happily going with you to a hotel for the night rather than calling the police, like I probably should have when I first shot that arrow.” I don’t like this list. “Oh, and I gave a fake witness testimony to the Mexican police.”

I glance at her as I drive through the rows of parked cars. “Fake testimony?”

Her fingers play with the strap of the backpack. “I said you had blue eyes and black hair.”

I back into an empty spot, then turn to look at her. “Why would you do that?”

She bites her lip in that way that makes my blood heat. “I wasn’t positive that it was you, but I was pretty sure. And… I didn’t want them to find you.”

I turn off the engine and stare at her.

It’s been twenty years since I’ve loved someone.

But I recognize the feeling.

It’s like hearing a song for the first time after years and years but remembering every lyric the second it starts.

It’s a heavy sort of comfort. But it also terrifies me.

I unbuckle my seat belt.

Cassandra was my obsession.

My Butterfly to love at a distance.

A pretty creature on the other side of the glass.

I never wanted her to know me.

Never wanted to take the chance of trying.

Because her rejection… It would crush me.

I’d known that much. Known that if she was afraid of me, it would smother the last bit of humanity I still held.

From afar, I could pretend. I could dream. I could fantasize and prepare. But never believe any of it could be real. Never think I’d ever have her close enough to touch.

I made a point to never get close enough to touch.

Cassandra reaches up and brushes her fingers along my jaw.

Not once, not ever, did I think she’d reach for me.

And now I’ll settle for nothing less than all of her.