11-06-2016, 11:20 AM
His name on her lips is enough to set his eyes drifting closed, to savor the sound. Watching it happen sets sparks flaring to life in her belly, sparks that catch fire as he closes the distance between them. He stares into her eyes, an intensity in the unsounded depths of amber that adds tinder to that slowly flickering flame, making it roar to life as he brushes his cheek against her neck, traces her shoulder with his lips, breathes her in. The sound of his ragged breath draws a moan from her throat. God, to touch him again, to taste the salt of his skin, trace the lines of his body with lips that have missed him so.
But he freezes, and she jerks back, breaking their embrace at the same time he does. His apology quenches the fire in her belly, a wave of icy water that drowns out the flame before it can burn out of control. “Good,” she whispers, trying not to let the word sound as jagged as her insides feel. “Because you can’t just…” What? What wouldn’t she let him do? She’d be lying if she said he couldn’t just walk up and touch her and have her falling back into his embrace. One look and she still burned for him, still craved the weight of his body like a drug, still needed feel of his skin against hers. She’d do just about anything to hear one more reluctant groan as he gave into the hunger roaring through him and touched her again.
God, touch me again.
She groaned and closed her eyes, fighting the way she wanted to melt into him, to purr and rub up against him and beg him for anything he’d give her. After all this time, all the hurt and the heartache and the sad uncertainty, all it took was one look and she’d start all over. “You were right,” she said, the words shaking as she fought the gravity between them, dug in her heels and refused to fall into him. “I can’t be with someone who thinks what’s between us is nothing. Who thinks I’m nothing.”
How has she been? She snorts, opening her eyes to meet his carefully neutral amber gaze. “You know, honey, I’ve been better. How about you?”
But he freezes, and she jerks back, breaking their embrace at the same time he does. His apology quenches the fire in her belly, a wave of icy water that drowns out the flame before it can burn out of control. “Good,” she whispers, trying not to let the word sound as jagged as her insides feel. “Because you can’t just…” What? What wouldn’t she let him do? She’d be lying if she said he couldn’t just walk up and touch her and have her falling back into his embrace. One look and she still burned for him, still craved the weight of his body like a drug, still needed feel of his skin against hers. She’d do just about anything to hear one more reluctant groan as he gave into the hunger roaring through him and touched her again.
God, touch me again.
She groaned and closed her eyes, fighting the way she wanted to melt into him, to purr and rub up against him and beg him for anything he’d give her. After all this time, all the hurt and the heartache and the sad uncertainty, all it took was one look and she’d start all over. “You were right,” she said, the words shaking as she fought the gravity between them, dug in her heels and refused to fall into him. “I can’t be with someone who thinks what’s between us is nothing. Who thinks I’m nothing.”
How has she been? She snorts, opening her eyes to meet his carefully neutral amber gaze. “You know, honey, I’ve been better. How about you?”