Great and Precious Things

by Rebecca Yarros

She was choosing me.

  Against my better judgment, I stretched the paper out and read what she’d printed on it.

  “I believe a strong woman may be stronger than a man, particularly if she happens to have love in her heart. I guess a loving woman is indestructible.”

  I knew I’d find her in the library. With the book. Where we’d spent countless hours as children, silent companions while we both ran from whatever drove us there in the first place. Her need to paint, to create in a family that only valued an analytical mind, and my need to live in someone else’s world for a few hours.

  I’d known by the time I was ten that the only world I wanted to live in was hers. To see the world in colors and light the way she did, to witness the way her hands created beauty from nothingness, knowing it was a direct representation of her own soul. And when she’d chosen Sullivan…rather, when I thought she had, I’d chosen to blend that part of her with me, to take her with me in the only way I could. I learned to build new, beautiful things in the midst of poverty and war. I gave in to my inevitable nature when the mission called for it and never thought twice about ending the life of someone who could eventually be a threat to this country—to Willow. But I lived for the months where our assignment was supportive rather than destructive in nature.

  I built temporary bridges to transport military equipment. But I also built permanent ones to transport food and people. I set off bombs in buildings where terrorists met and then built a school to educate the little sister who’d watched her bigger one killed for daring to crack a book. I was forever paying the debt for the lives I’d taken, trying to balance out the weight so my handbasket to hell didn’t sink quite so fast.

  But today, when Oscar had thrown Sullivan at me like that—at Willow—I’d realized the balance might never tip in my favor, and I wasn’t sure that was something I could let Willow pay for.

  I rolled up the greenhouse plans and secured them in the waterproof bin beneath the table in case weather moved in. Then, with the rook biting into my palm, I walked back to the house, where I knew she’d be waiting, because I’d fallen for a woman who might just be as stubborn as I was.

  A quick kick, and I dropped my muddy boots in the laundry room and stripped out of my clothes, throwing all but my boxers into the washer and pressing start. Beauty of a tankless water heater? I could shower at the same time and give myself another few minutes of buffer before I went to battle.

  I glanced her way as I passed the library, only to see her sitting at the easel, sketching something, oblivious, or at least acting like she was.

  Five minutes later, I toweled off my hair, dressed, and headed into the library, where she still sat at the easel.

  “That’s where I found the sketch,” I said, breaking the silence but raising the tension.

  She put the pencil down and pivoted on the stool to face me. She’d hung her jacket next to mine by the door and was still wearing the same shirt she’d put on inside out this morning.

  This morning felt like a decade ago.

  “I wondered,” she admitted. “I recognized it when I saw your arm.”

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe. “You didn’t say anything.”

  “Yeah, not sure if you’ve caught on, but we tend to leave a lot of things unsaid. We should probably work on that.”

  My jaw flexed as I searched for the words I owed her. “I’m sorry you saw that today.”

  “Which part? Oscar being an ass or you losing your temper?”

  “Yes.”

  A wry smile fleeted across her lips. “You don’t owe me an apology for either.”

  “Willow, those kinds of comments aren’t going to stop. Not around here. Not if you stay with me.”

  “Okay.” She shrugged, and little seeds of frustration took root in my stomach.

  “It’s not okay. I know how much this town means to you—”

  “Don’t act like it means nothing to you. Not with all your talk of greenhouses and electric systems. You’re just as invested in the future here as I am. Otherwise I’d suggest we move to where it would be easy to be together.” She braced her hands on either side of her hips, gripping the stool, but she didn’t close herself off from me. “We have roots here. We’ve both chosen to live here, so don’t pretend this town doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I won’t deny that, but I’ve never given a shit what anyone said about me.”

  “What’s your next issue? This one is a dead horse. People are going to talk, Cam. There’s literally nothing else to do here besides prep for the season and make babies. I dated Sully. Now I’m dating you. So go ahead and make peace with whatever kind of derogatory comments people are going to come up with, because we can’t change what people think.”

  “Yes, we can. You can walk away from this. Right here. Right now.” My entire body tensed, waiting for her to do just that.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. Do you know why you won’t sleep with me?” she asked, leaning forward and pinning me with her stare.

  “Are you serious right now? You want to talk about sex?”

  “Kind of. Just bear with me here. You’re afraid that jumping into this”—she motioned between us—“will give me regrets later on that you’re not prepared to cope with.”

  “Considering I pretty much said that—”

  “And if that were the truth, it would be super sweet, but since you’re lying to yourself—”

  “Lying to myself?” I came off the doorframe but halted at the desk.

  “Shhh, my turn. You can talk in a minute.” She held her finger up to her lips.

  My eyes widened.

  “You think you won’t sleep with me because it gives me less to cry about when you break my heart. Which, logically, looking at the bullshit you pulled today—”

  “I apologized—” I flattened my palms on the surface of the desk.

  “I’m not talking about you punching Oscar. I couldn’t care less about that. Now, shush, really. It’s not nice to interrupt.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “I’m talking about that crap when you walked away from me. When you stood there spewing out all that self-loathing bullshit and then once again made the decision for me that I was better off without you.”

  I snapped my mouth shut.

  “Right. So yeah, I guess that could give a girl a little insecurity complex if I didn’t know you so well. But guess what, Cam? I do. If you wanted someone who was going to run every time you lost your temper or got into a pissing contest with Oscar Hudgens, I can name at least three girls in town who would gladly drive up. But you want me.” She cocked an eyebrow and dared me to deny it.

  I didn’t.

  She rose from the stool, barefoot and 100 percent comfortable in my house—my life. “You won’t sleep with me because you’re scared. Not me. You.”

  I was about ten seconds from clearing this desk and showing her exactly how not scared I was.

  She stopped so the desk was between us. “You’re scared that you’ll take that step and open yourself up, and no, I don’t just mean physically.”

  My jaw flexed, but I kept silent as those little seeds of frustration grew into a giant fireball of…I didn’t even know, but it wasn’t pleasant.

  “You’re scared that eventually I’ll see something I don’t like about you and I’ll walk out. Or that I can’t take the gossip and I’ll leave you. The distance you force between us is all on you, Cam. Not me. You’re not scared of hurting me. You’d die before you let that happen, and we both know it. You’re scared I’ll hurt you.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face.

  “Yeah. Thought so.”

  “You should walk out,” I managed to say through the sawdust in my mouth.

  “And you should really stop saying that. I’m standing
right here, Cam. There’s nothing you can say to convince me that I should go. Don’t give me your self-righteous crap about hurting me, because you won’t.”

  “My temper—”

  “Has never been violent in the direction of any woman I’ve ever known. Unless you’re keeping a secret I don’t know about.”

  “Of course not,” I snapped.

  “You’re scared because you’re in love with me.” She looked me straight in the eye, unflinching and unapologetic.

  “I never said that.” My hands slid to grip the edge of the desk.

  “You don’t have to. You’ve always been bigger on actions than words. I don’t need you to say it. What I need is for you to realize that my love isn’t going to change or lessen because someone makes a comment or you have a bad day. I love you unconditionally, Camden. At your worst? I love you. At your best? Yep, still love you. And until you can accept that, I’ll be right here proving it to you. Choosing you.”

  Emotion clogged my throat, and I couldn’t swallow past it, no matter how many times I tried.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. “I’m yours. Now. Always.”

  Her words didn’t chip at my defenses or break them down. They seeped inside the walls I’d had since…forever and transformed concrete and mortar into color and light. Into the very thing she was.

  “And if that’s not enough,” she started and then shook her head. “If you decide to walk away, I’ll still love you, just like I did the first time, even if you don’t want me any—”

  I didn’t know when I started moving, but I silenced her with my mouth, pouring everything I couldn’t say into the kiss. A cry of relief escaped her lips, and I took that, too, slanting over her to kiss her deeper, hold her closer. I needed her as close as the laws of physics would allow, and even then I’d find a way to break a few.

  “Cam,” she sighed.

  “Shh. My turn now. I’ll never walk away,” I promised, holding her face in my hands. “I’ll never not want you. Wanting you is all I’ve ever known. You’re in my blood, my bones, my soul.” My hands dropped to her ass, and I lifted her until she was eye level. “There is no me without you. I’ve known that since we were kids in this room.”

  Her lips parted at the same time as she wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her ankles. “We’re not kids anymore.” She skimmed her fingers down my face.

  “Thank God for that.” I was done holding back. Done trying to convince her she’d be better off with someone else. For better or worse, she was mine.

  Now I just had to make sure she never regretted her choice.

  I kissed her, and she arched into me, sending the kiss spiraling into pure heat and need as her fingers laced behind my neck.

  It was a good thing I knew this house like the back of my hand, because I didn’t break our kiss as I walked us out of the library, down the hallway, and into my room. I paused inside the door to flip on the lights. There was zero chance I was missing any part of this in the darkness.

  Willow grabbed the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head for the second time today. This time, I looked my fill, taking in the sweet curve of her breasts against the lavender lace and the freckle that sat between them.

  “Beautiful,” I murmured just before I set my lips to that spot and worked my way up to her neck.

  Her moan went straight through my bloodstream like a hit of adrenaline. I pinned her against the wall as she worked my shirt free, and then it joined hers on the ground.

  “Beautiful,” she echoed as her fingertips traced the ink on my chest.

  My pulse pounded, demanding I move, but I stood still, letting her explore, nearly coming out of my skin with each movement of her hands over my tattoos.

  Finally, she brought her eyes to mine and smiled. My control snapped, and I buried a hand in her hair as I took her mouth again. The kiss turned primal, and my world narrowed to the feel of her lips against mine, her tongue and teeth driving me mad.

  When her hips rolled, I hissed and rocked back against her until the layers between us were too much to stand.

  Four steps and I had her laid out on my bed, her flawless skin the ultimate contrast to the dark bedding. My eyes locked with hers as I reached for the button on her jeans, and at her enthusiastic nod, I flicked the button free and peeled the fabric down her legs.

  “Yours too,” she ordered, leaning up on her elbows.

  I grinned, only too happy to oblige.

  My pants hit the floor, and I nearly lost it when she licked her lips. I was going to eat her alive, to devour her so completely, so thoroughly, that she’d never look at me again without remembering exactly what I could do to her—do for her.

  Her skin was satin fire as I slid over her, and when she raised her knees, I fell into the vee of her thighs with a groan.

  Her hands were in my hair, at my back, touching and stroking everywhere she could reach as our mouths met in a kiss hotter than the last one, only to escalate when we’d break apart and come together again.

  Her bra hit the floor, and I abandoned her mouth to kiss a path down her chest. She cried out my name when I took one peak in my mouth and rolled the other between my fingers.

  I blocked out every demand my body made, every ache and urge, and concentrated on her, building her pleasure while I learned the curves of her body, the spots that made her wiggle in laughter and the ones that made her gasp and moan. When I reached the hollow of her hips, I hooked my thumbs into the lace bands of her underwear and raised my head to make sure she was with me.

  “Yes.” She answered the wordless question and lifted her hips so I could slide the scrap of lace down her thighs, where I paused to press a kiss that earned me a soft whimper and a roll of her hips.

  When she was completely, gloriously naked, I let my eyes rake over her, marveling that she was mine, that this would be the first time I’d make love to her, but it wouldn’t be the last.

  I was going to make love to this woman for the rest of my life.

  “I don’t have words for how exquisite you are,” I told her, sending my hands up her thighs. Her skin was so damned soft, so sensitive.

  “I think those words work just fine.” Her breaths came faster as I reached higher until I skimmed the apex of her thighs. “What are you doing to me?” Her hips undulated, seeking friction, and I gave it to her with my thumb and fingers, rising over her to capture her next moan with a kiss.

  “I haven’t even started yet,” I promised against her lips. “I’m going to keep you in this bed all weekend, until I’ve kissed every inch of you. Until I know exactly what you like and how much you can take.” I pressed in on her clit, and she cried out.

  “Off.” Her fingers yanked at my boxers.

  I rolled and did as she asked, then broke open the new box of condoms in my nightstand.

  She took the foil from my hand and then gripped the back of my neck to pull my mouth to hers. This time, when I settled between her thighs, there was nothing in between us.

  The feeling was almost too much to take, knowing I was finally where I’d always fantasized about being. But she was better than any fantasy I’d ever come up with. Her skin was softer, her kisses hotter, her need elevating my own until we were lost in the kind of connection I’d never believed existed.

  I stroked her until she rippled under my fingers, until her nails bit little half-moons into my shoulders and her thighs locked.

  She was so damn close, her breath ragged as she urged me back to her mouth.

  “With you,” she demanded. “The first one, I want—” She gasped, her eyes flying wide as I stretched her with my fingers.

  I groaned at the silk-and-velvet feel of her, at the thought of sinking inside her. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be done for before I even got there. “It’s not one or the other,” I managed to say. “You’re not limited on orga
sms.” In fact, I planned on giving her as many as she could possibly stand.

  Her hand wrapped around my length, and I stilled as pleasure shot up my spine, so sweet, I could taste it on my tongue.

  “With you,” she repeated, then ripped open the foil packet and rolled the condom over me.

  She kissed me, testing her teeth on my bottom lip, and I took my fingers from her core only to stroke her to a fever pitch, until her hips pressed into my hand and her back arched.

  “Cam!” she begged, her eyes finding mine. The pure need I saw there was my undoing. She looked exactly how I felt—desperate and on edge.

  “I’m with you,” I promised and lined myself up with her entrance.

  “Please.” Her knees rose on either side of my hips, and I threaded my fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck to cradle her head.

  Staring into her hazel eyes, watching for any sign of discomfort, I thrust gently, easing inside her, grinding my teeth at the utter ecstasy flooding every cell in my body.

  Our breaths mingled as I slowly joined us with rolling thrusts, sliding deeper and deeper until she had every inch of me, never once breaking her gaze. Her lower lip quivered, and I took it between mine, kissing her as she adjusted around me.

  “Are you okay?” My muscles trembled with the effort it took to keep still when every instinct demanded I move.

  “God, yes,” she promised, her arms holding me, her hands splayed over my back. “I’m perfect.”

  “Yeah, you are.” Keeping my weight on my forearms so I didn’t crush her slight frame, I rolled my hips once, and her mouth opened with the sweetest moan I’d ever heard in my life.

  Everything about her was the best, the sweetest, the most intense, and I knew it wasn’t just our off-the-charts chemistry or the realization of a dream. It was because my body and my heart both belonged to this woman, and the overwhelming emotion only drove the physical sensation higher.

  “I love you.” The confession spilled from my lips, melting the last barrier between us.

  Her eyes widened in surprise, as if she hadn’t already told me that tonight. “I love you, Camden,” she echoed, then kissed me as I began to move, rocking within her at a slow, deep pace, drawing out every sliver of pleasure that I could, using my body to love her in a way I never had with any other woman.