“I know.” His hand slid from my hair to cup my cheek gently.

“I hate what you do to me. Hate that I sat here tonight wondering who would call me this time when…” I swallowed hard.

“I’m here,” he assured me with a soft, lingering kiss. “No one had to call because I’m here. I’m fine.”

“This time,” I spat.

His jaw ticked, and something I didn’t want to examine flashed through his eyes.

“I hate how you make me feel.” My eyes burned. “How I can’t decide if the fire is hotter in the hell where I choose to live with the terror I felt when you walked out the door tonight or the one where I have to figure out how to walk away from you, because either way, how I feel about you is going to eventually incinerate me.” The intensity of it was just as frightening as watching him drive off into the storm.

“All I can say is that I love you.” His thumb stroked my cheek, as if his touch alone could soothe the riot of feelings warring for dominance within me.

“That doesn’t make this easier!” Instead of shoving him away, I leaned my forehead against his and tightened my thighs around his waist. I felt him hard and insistent against the seam of my shorts and barely managed to keep my hips still. It didn’t matter how frustrated and pissed off I was at my own feelings for the man, I still wanted him. That was the damned problem.

“I know, but it’s all I have.” His fingers flexed, and he gave me a little more of his weight, pinning me against the door with the pressure of his hips. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that.” My heart leaped and my pulse skittered as the ache between my thighs flared at the heat between our bodies.

“No.” He pulled his head back far enough that I could look into his eyes. So beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful. “I’ll stop kissing you. Stop touching you if that’s what you want. I’ll put you down and walk out this very second if you ask me to. I’ll do anything you ask, except that.”

“Quit flying,” I muttered with a ridiculous pout. I may as well have asked him to carve out his very nature and set it on fire just to appease me. We both knew neither of us would like him much without it.

He snorted softly, recognizing my shit attempt at a joke, and then used those eyes of his to see into my freaking soul. “I’m going to tell you how I feel until you choose the hell that rips us apart, and even then, I’ll probably still tell you. What I feel for you isn’t quiet. It’s loud and inconvenient and demands to be said as often as possible.”