“Well, it was only fair since you licked me first, remember?” she says, closing her eyes and going silent once more. I lean my head back to rest against the bed again and continue to stroke her back.
“Your bruises are almost gone,” I say conversationally. "Your skin is so beautiful." My fingers slow as I let myself enjoy the feel of her skin against mine. I refuse to look back down at her. Seeing her body like this is going to give me a one-way ticket to hell, and I have a sickening thought that if I look back down at her, there would be no going back. She's too vulnerable and doesn’t need another man coming onto her. “Sarah," I harden my voice, "I didn’t see anything. Your hair covered your breasts, baby. I just wanted you to know that in case you were worried." I swallow thickly. "I didn’t look.”
Fucking hell, I can’t believe I didn’t look.
My chest expands on a deep breath as I try to get ahold of my emotions and traitorous desire.
“Thank you,” Sarah says in a soft tone, turning her head slightly to face away from me and heaving a deep sigh as if she's content. As if she's settled.
As if she's safe.
I can't remember the last time I felt like someone felt settled in my presence.
“My pleasure. Are you okay to get up? I’d like to get you a washcloth for your face; then, you should probably lay down and rest. You just had a pretty bad panic attack." I wait a couple of seconds, but she doesn't respond or move. "I’m going to call room service and have them bring something up since we missed lunch and dessert, which you’re going to eat first. You need something sweet to help,” I say roughly.
"Some chocolate might be nice," she replies in a tired tone before raising to one lithe arm with her back to me. My hand settles at the delicate curve of her back into the swell of her hip. It takes everything in me to not tighten my grip there.
I keep my face averted as she clutches the pillow to her front. I stand and help her up, watching as she walks slowly to my side of the bed and crawls in silently, not bothering with trying to pull any clothes on.
I walk to the bathroom and wet a washcloth before walking back out to her. I kneel next to the bed and wipe her face gently, careful not to smear her makeup. I stay quiet, understanding that she needs time to recover, and reach over for the phone and order us some lunch and another piece of chocolate cake, stroking her cheek the entire time.
I may have a one-way ticket to hell for having my hands all over her right now, but I'll be damned if I deny myself these small moments of intimacy. We both need it.
Hanging up, I stay kneeling on the floor, enraptured by her wide, dark-pink mouth and thick lashes that lay just right on her cheeks. She’d closed her eyes, and her chest rises and falls softly, looking like she's slowly falling asleep. I'm so lost staring, watching her features settle into being calm, that I inhale in surprise when her hazel eyes suddenly open and lock with mine.
I meet her gaze patiently, wanting with everything in me to close the distance between us and kiss her soft, full lips. She’s beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking.
I can’t believe I’m this close to you, baby.
My chest tightens hard at the pain in her eyes.
“I’ms-sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking as tears suddenly fall down her face and then onto the pillow beneath her. “I didn’t mean to. This was supposed to beyourweek." Her face contorts with pain and embarrassment, and she brings a hand up to cover her face. "Oh my god. I didn’t mean to make it all about me, and I couldn’t even make it through the seconddayw-without—”
"No, don't." Tugging her hand from her face, I put my hand gently across her mouth, hushing her words. “Please, stop,” I plead hoarsely, leaning forward to place my forehead against hers. "You have nothing to apologize for, sweetness.Do you hear me? Nothing!"
We stay like this for long minutes, pressed intimately together. Her warm breath glides over my hand. I reluctantly let her wrap her fingers around my wrist and gently pull my hand away from her lips. Her eyes meet mine warily, as if she's worried. I tense when she tugs our clasped hands to her mouth.
“She said you were cold,” Sarah says quietly, pressing her lips to my knuckles and closing her eyes briefly.
Though I relish her affection, her words give me pause. I frown and tilt my head, my brow furrowing in confusion. “Hm, sweetheart? Who said?” I ask gently, feeling my heart startingto race again. Perplexed. Her wet eyes flicker between mine, somehow warm and sad at the same time.
Cherishing how intimate this is, I allow myself to brush my thumb across her bottom lip, marveling at its plump, smooth texture.
“The women behind me when you were speaking. They were talking badly about you.That’swhy I moved seats. They said a few things…but what they said wasn’t true," Sarah says harshly, releasing my hand and reaching for my face. "You’re not cold. Not to me.”
Her hand molds against the side of my face, warm and soft.
I lean into her hand. So touch starved I feel like a man deprived of oxygen, and she's offering me my first breath in so long I forgot what it felt like to breathe. My eyes flicker between hers, and I hold my breath at the first caress of her fingers against my cheek.
A single tear slips from her eyes that I wipe away gently. “People might look into your eyes and see ice, but whenIlook into them, I see a bright, clear blue sky with no clouds to bring thunderstorms or darkness. Just beautiful, soft warm blue as far as the eye can see. It reminds me that I’m alive, and I’m grateful for that. I don’t see what they see, Alex. And Ireallyhope you don’t either.”
Her words ring soundly in my head, my eyes widen as they stare into hers, and my body flushes from head to toe. Tingles erupt everywhere, and I realize…
I'm in love with her.
My heart stops beating as I kneel here, staring at her for several quiet seconds. So much passes between us. Sacred, intense, indescribable.
Inevitable…
