He strokes the whole length of my hair, and I let him. He kisses my forehead gently and I let him. He pulls me to him to feel his heartbeat and I let him.
I listen to his breathing and his silence. I listen to the reassuring sounds in this house and I start to catch my breath again.
The silence in these walls doesn’t scare me. It’s discreet, safe and is almost enough to offset mine.
It’s the only thing I can bear to listen to.
“Hey,” he says to me, moving slightly and lowering his gaze to me.
Ian is tough, impenetrable and a bit arrogant at times. But he never has been with me. Not once.
“Do you want to talk about it, Riley? I’m starting to worry about you.”
“I’m fine,” I say flatly.
“Don’t pretend with me. You can let your guard down, I’m not going to tell anyone about it.”
I lift my eyes to his.
“I’m okay now.”
His gaze widens, and his lips come apart. I instinctively put my fingers to them to stop him from speaking.
If he asks me anything, if he speaks, I won’t be able to resist.
His warm breath tickles my hand and my body is invaded with a hot, sweet sensation. It’s weak, silent but inside of me, it’s making a deafening racket.
He takes my face in his hands and I close my eyes to soak in this moment. I try to imprint it everywhere, in my eyes, in my head, in my heart. I need it desperately.
“Do you want to stay here?” he asks, guessing my intentions.
I nod and he smiles tenderly.
“Come on, you look exhausted,” he says taking my hand and leading me towards the bed. I sit down and let myself fall back, lifeless. He lays down on his back next to me.
I look at his tough profile, his defined features, the curve of his nose, his full lips and his weeks-old beard that covers his face, giving him a dangerous air. I look up at the ceiling, because I can’t hide what I’m feeling: it’s about to explode out of me and destroy everything we have. We’re about to lose what we’re both defending.
I can’t hold back anything.
“Riley,” he whispers, and I sigh.
“Look at me,” he continues, and I give in.
I turn and he does too.
“We can’t go on like this,” he says, and I shake.
His hand slides along my side. He hesitates a few seconds before slipping under my shirt, running his hand slowly and sensually against my skin.
I try to repress this weakness that is threatening to strangle me, to make me fall apart here and now in his bed, in his arms.
Ian is touching me. Ian has welcomed me into his house. Ian is giving me the most intimate moment of my life.
Ian is the man I want with my whole being.
He sighs into my mouth and I breathe him in before his mouth pushes against mine, soft and intimate for the length of one breath.
I try to suppress the tears. And yet they fall without my permission. They slide away, caressing my check until stopping at the corner of my mouth.
