As she came, her orgasm going on for what seemed like hours, he whispered into her ear, “It's your choice, babe.

Take me just like this. Or leave me the hell alone.”

Through the blur of desire, she could see what he was doing, that he was trying to use sex as a weapon. Trying to break her with it, pushing at her boundaries to see if he could get her to run.

And maybe if she hadn't been running for so many years, if she wasn't so damn tired of going in circles and getting absolutely nowhere, she might have let him scare her off.

Didn't he know she'd already made her choice? That she'd choose him every time? Not just because of the way her body spiraled out of control whenever he touched her. But because loving Connor was what her heart knew to be the most true emotion she'd ever felt.

She'd never thought to announce her feelings to him in this way, up against the wall, trapped in his heat, his overwhelming strength, but now she saw that this was how things with Connor had been from the beginning.

Wild.

Unexpected.

Frightening.

But beautiful and utterly precious all at the same time.

“I love you, Connor.”

The relief at finally confessing what she felt, at accepting it fully herself, was so sweet, she had to say it again.

“I love you with everything I am.”

“No.” His eyes were dark. Wild. “You don't. You can't.”

“I do. I can.”

She reached up to his face with both hands, made him look at her. “So if this is what you want from me, if this is what you need to break through to the other side, then take it from me. I'm giving myself to you freely.”

He closed his eyes, still fighting a war within himself, the same war he'd been fighting for two years.

“Did you hear me, Connor? I've made my choice. To give myself to you. Because I love you.”

And then, beneath his eyelashes, she saw a tear emerge, his teeth, his jaw clenched against it even as it fell in a slow trail over his cheekbone, down into the hollow, then onto his mouth.

She moved her lips to his, tasted the salt there.

“Take me, Connor,” she whispered against his mouth. “I'm yours.”

Darkness was swallowing him up, pulling him down, all the way under as Ginger's words — I love you, Connor —

swirled around in his brain, wrapping themselves around his chest, the hollow place inside where his heart should be.

She couldn't love him. There was nothing there to love. He was just a shell now. An empty shell. He tried to claw his way back to the top, but he'd never faced a threat so big, not even from the fire that had scorched his skin.

He felt wetness beneath her fingertips as she gently touched his face. He hadn't cried on the mountain, hadn't cried in the hospital, hadn't cried after the phone call. Hadn't cried until he'd shoved Ginger into the wall, made her come apart for him, beneath his fingers, then heard her say-The wrenching pain in his chest was so intense, he wrapped his hands harder around her hips, digging his fingers into her softness.

“Ginger.”

He heard the violence in her name, looked into her eyes, saw the love in them, and knew he needed to stop. Step away. Leave her alone. Before he did something he'd never forgive himself for.

And still, all he could say was, “I can't let you go.”

“You don't have to, Connor. I've already told you.”

He'd never fought so hard, and yet, second by second, he went down farther, into the black hole at the heart of the undertow.

No fire had ever scared him like this, overwhelmed him so completely. His passion for Ginger, the unending desire that grew every second he spent with her, every time he touched her, was the most intense force he'd ever encountered.

“I should never have touched you. I should have left you alone. You need to run from me. As fast as you can.”

He was as hollow as a rotten log, crumbling on the outside, nothing but air at his core.

“I shouldn't do this. What I'm about to do.”

It was the only warning he had in him. All he could do was hope that she was strong enough to save them both, smart enough to run like hell.

But instead of running, instead of pushing him away, he felt her fingers ripping at his pants just as he'd ripped her clothes away.

He forced out the words, “No, Ginger,” even as he silently pleaded, Yes. Please don't leave me now.

And then, as if she could hear his unspoken prayer, she was saying, “I'm not going anywhere,” and her legs opened wider, her calves coming around his hips. He felt her hand move down to her panties to pull them aside a split second before she thrust her heels against his ass, driving him inside.

“Let go,” she whispered against his forehead. “Just let go.”

And then she was wrapping her legs tighter around his waist to ride him just as hard as he rode her, taking him in deeper than she ever had before. But as he roared his release, it was the beating of her heart against his chest that he felt most.

“I'll move out tonight.”

Her legs were still wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck, sweat dripping between their half-naked bodies. And he was an ass**le who had just done something he never thought he could be capable of. He'd hurt her, had heard her cry out in pain as he shoved her against the wall. And he still hadn't stopped. Couldn't have stopped.

Abruptly, she untangled herself from him. Pushed him away. And that was when he saw the bruises on her wrists, clear even in the dim lights of the porch.

Bruises. From his hands.

“I hear everything you say,” she said. “Even the things you don't say. Especially those. But you haven't heard a goddamned thing I've said, have you?”

She was the only reason he'd been able to hold the pieces together at all, and in return he'd stolen from her sweetness.

In return he'd hurt her.

“I forced you, Ginger. I made you f**k me. Here. Like that.”

He felt lost without her pressed against him, a man on a island with nothing left to hold on to. He looked at her ruined dress on the floor, pulled up his jeans with shaking hands.

“I was an animal.”

A sound of rage erupted from her throat. “Yes, you wanted to make it f**king. You wanted to take what's between us and make it ugly and worthless, but you couldn't do it. Don't you see that, Connor? You couldn't do it.”