Did he?
I began panting, my chest heaving, and that inferno spread through my entire body because he was letting himself look at me. All of me. From my eyes, and he moved the blanket aside so he could see the rest of me, my breasts, my waist, where my underwear rested on my hips, my thighs, all the way down to my toes and back up again. He shifted so he was holding himself up next to me and he grazed the side of my thigh with his hand.
Tingles trailed his touch, and I sucked in my breath.
I could see him, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to see his face, see if he really was reacting the same as me. My hand trembled as I reached for the lamp above my bed.
He caught my hand, knowing what I was doing. “Don’t.”
“I want to see you.”
“I don’t want you to see me right now.”
That hurt. “Oh.”
“Not because I don’t want you—”
Seriously! Creighton.
He continued, “That’s not why I’m here tonight. I ...”
He drew in an audible breath and lowered himself all the way to my side. He reached out, his hand rested on my stomach. He moved a finger, smoothing back and forth, and more tingles shot through me.But this touch was comforting as well as exciting. I wasn’t sure what he intended here, but okay. I meant what I said. My mind was truly too fucked to deal with this new development between us, and gah. I was fully admitting to this development. That was insane. Attraction. Me and Creighton.
What had I done in a past life to have all this craziness with someone like Creighton? I must’ve been a jail attendant for babies or something. But I laced our fingers and held our hands to my chest.
I reminded myself that he sought me out. He came here. That meant he needed me, and Creighton wouldn’t have done this to hit on me. No. He’d do that when I was awake and could face him squarely on my own two feet. He’d probably make it some form of challenge to me, because he loved that sort of shit.
So messed up.
But, man. I cherished moments like this from the past. I shoved that away. I focused on the here and now, and right now, I didn’t have someone scary and dangerous in my bed. The outside world didn’t exist beyond this room. It was just the two of us.
I traced his fingers with my own, and asked, “What happened tonight?”
“They love like you do.”
“Who? What?”
He sounded disappointed and perplexed at the same time. Who ...
It hit me. Was he talking about the heads of the West and Walden families?
But why?
I sucked in some oxygen, held it, repressing all the other bad feelings that swept into my body when we referenced that world. No. I didn’t want those feelings or thoughts in here. Not right now. Not this time.
I’d missed Eight. Weird attraction aside, I missed this version of him.
The image of him touching my neck flashed in my mind, how I could arch my neck for him. To give him better access—Really, Blake?I chided myself.
Creighton came to me. He was never vulnerable. He could be raw, but I hadn’t realized how hungry I’d been for him.
I really had missed him.
I kept tracing his hand.
I shouldn’t love that he was here. I knew I shouldn’t, because of what he could do in my name. My heart pounded.
I didn’t want him to leave.
