Page 39 of Hart's Redemption

I gasped as he lowered me onto him. A moan slipped past my lips and I arched into him, my head falling back only to be cradled by his capable hands. The bond thrummed almost painfully in my chest at the pure feeling of completeness I found in Elijah. Rather than fight it, I surrendered, sinking even deeper into his embrace and eliciting a moan straight from my core.

“I love how you let go. I’ve never seen anyone do that.” His lips ghosted over my throat as he pulled me close. “I think it was the first thing I fell in love with about you.”

I lifted my head and my eyes fluttered back open. Only Elijah’s gaze wasn’t waiting for me. Instead, it was focused on my chest.

He leaned forward to brush a light kiss on the pale starburst-shaped scar.

“Baby.” I cradled the side of his face while he trailed his nose along my fevered skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“This is definitely my favorite scar.” He placed a firmer kiss on all that remained of the wound that should have been my death and raised his gaze to meet my confused one.

“Why?”

“Because it means you’re alive.”

My eyes widened in shock, then his mouth closed over mine, and nothing else mattered.

Chapter 13

Elijah

Ifinishedthelastpassof my latest critique and submitted the file for review. With a sigh of relief, I pushed away the data tab and started gathering up the explosion of research tools I’d accumulated on the dining table. Once I’d compiled everything into a neat stack, I shifted my focus to the living room.

Josh stood from what had quickly become his spot on the couch. While we’d ordered him more clothes to compensate for the ones that had gotten packed up and returned to his permanent residence, he still wore my clothes more often than not. A fact I was one hundred percent okay with, even if myDartmouth tee dwarfed him and those sweats looked like they were clinging to his trim hips with a hope and a prayer.

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I watched him cross the room to the bookshelves. He’d already blown through my meager collection of paperbacks before begrudgingly moving onto the data files. He surveyed the titles for a minute, a look of intense concentration on his face, then plucked one free. From this distance, I couldn’t make out the title, not that it mattered. I shook my head in amazement. Josh certainly had not been exaggerating when he said he was a voracious reader. At the rate he was devouring books, I’d be out by the next full moon, and that was only a week away.

Thinking of the pending moon reminded me of another task. I shot Eric a quick message, then officially abandoned my makeshift workstation. If the criticism went well, the journal would publish it in the fall, and I could leave Dickens behind for a while. When I originally accepted the assignment, it seemed like an easy way to stay relevant while waiting for Josh to recover. The reality had been a damn nuisance I couldn’t be done with soon enough.

I reached my arms towards the ceiling in a long stretch and let out a grateful sigh when my back cracked. Working at the dining table instead of at my desk in the study was not comfortable, ‌but I wanted to be more present for Josh while he was building his control. And maybe to remind him Iwantedto be near him.

As I continued to work the kinks out of my stiff muscles, Josh resumed his seat. No sooner had he settled than his leg began to bounce and his free hand tapped out a mindless pattern on his thigh. Despite his pursuit of a diversion, restless energy poured off him.

“You know, we don’t have to stay cooped up here. We could go out. Maybe Mack could meet us at Hair of the Dog,” I suggested,hoping mentioning his favorite cafe might prove too great a temptation to resist.

He swiped to the next page without looking up from the data file. “Considering how anxious I already am, do you really think adding caffeine to the mix is wise?”

“They have tea, and there is such a thing as decaffeinated.” He snorted and didn’t dignify my counterargument with a response. I huffed none too quietly and walked around to join him. “I know you’re going stir-crazy. Surely getting out, even just to walk around town, would help.”

The screen darkened as he laid it flat on his lap and stared at the far wall. “How do you see that going? The whole town has likely heard the truth about who I am and the things I’ve done. Are you prepared to face the whispered speculation?”

I gritted my teeth and tried a different approach. “What about work?”

“I’ll deal with that when my medical leave is up.”

I bit back another frustrated huff as he reopened the file and resumed his reading. My head fell back on the couch in what I refused to admit was defeat.

I don’t know why I expected this time to be any different. He gives the same answer every time I suggest going out. And he’s yet to say just how long this “medical leave” is or what he plans to do when it’s finally over.

Not that I mind having him all to myself.

My hand wandered across the minimal space between us, as it was wont to do anytime he was near. Almost immediately, he moved to let his fingers trail lightly along the back of my hand and up my arm.

I sank deeper into the couch. These small, intimate touches never failed to fill me with a joy that resonated through the bond. I absolutely loved that Josh finally felt confident enough in us to touch me whenever he wanted. But if I were being honestwith myself, I was increasingly worried he planned to hide from the world like a recluse. He deserved to have a life full of the happiness he’d been denied for the better part of his existence, and I wanted to give it to him.

“Josh.”

“Hmm?”