Chapter seventeen
Syrup Skin Licks
Ilookon,impressedas we pull up to a great fancy apartment complex with a big circular fountain out front. It looks rather a lot like a high-end hotel. I park and glance over atSarah, who's nervously looking out the window. Her head tilts as her big brown eyes stare up at the seven-floor building.
She's gorgeous. Literally the most breathtaking woman I've ever had the pleasure of sharing space with, and in this moment, despite our circumstances, I feel so lucky I may as well be floating on cloud nine.
Giving her the moment she obviously needs, my gaze licks down the curve of her neck and I stiffen at the tiny drop of syrup shining against her collar bone. It's presence dropping me from heaven, back down to earth, and even lower. If possible.
Oh fuck….
My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. Could you get an award for self-control? Because if so, I think I might deserve it. My mouth waters, and my flesh burns to lean over and lick that small droplet off her. But instead, I swallow hard, open my car door, and slide smoothly out of my vehicle instead.
I leave it there, not even telling her to wipe it off. I’m content to just watch it on her flesh all day, torturing me while I think of ways to secretly wipe it off with my mouth.
She opens her own car door before I can get to her. "Stay there," I say sharply, tsking as I make my way around to her side. Her legs swing out of the vehicle, her knees and heels pressed firmly together, before sliding out of the seat with a hop.
Her calves are so curvy. Gorgeous. Flawless, actually.
As her heels clack on the asphalt, I notice her little wince and slide my hand in my pocket to hide the fist I'd just made. Painfully aware this isn't my place to have an opinion, I can't help but be a bit angry we're even doing this. She should be in bed right now, resting.
"I wish you would have worn flats," I say simply, feeling bad for her.
"I'm just used to heels."
I nod, dropping it.
Closing her door with a soft bang, I tighten my lips and force myself to be quiet. I can’t believe we're doing this while she's inheelsno less, after being in the hospital until almost midnight and the trauma she’d gone through. But before we left, she explained to me that she desperately needs to get her own place, so she couldn’t blow off this tour. She didn’t want to sleep where she works, and there has to be a clear boundary for her there.
So, though I didn't want to, I respected her decision and decided if she looks like she can’t keep walking comfortably, then I'll just carry her around. Problem solved.
My eyes take in the light gray stone of the building with it's glass awning and doors with its welcoming chandelier and step a little closer, placing my hand on her lower back lightly, over her now flawless silky hair. It feels perfect.
I wish she felt well enough that I could push her in the fountain by accident just to see her curls once her hair got wet.
Sarah’s eyes slide to mine as she tilts her head up slightly to look at me, her gold nose ring glints in the sun. She takes a deep breath, and I feel bad for even entertaining a thought like that. Although it's true. I think I'd give my left arm to see her natural hair.
“I need a miracle,” she confesses.
Her hand goes to her tummy. She's thinking about Bumpy, based off the way her eyes water.
“Miracles happen everyday," I say. "How about we just go in and see what they have to offer?”
I press gently onto her lower back so as not to hurt her. Going as slowly as she requires, I ignore every instinct to throw her across my shoulder and drive her home to lock her away. Instead, I lead her through the glass doors and disappear into the air conditioned building to meet our tour guide, Shelly.
Twenty minutes later, we're in the model apartment. And to be honest, if she didn't need it so bad, I'd take this damn place for myself. It's great.
“Are you impressed? You look like it!” Shelly laughs as she finishes walking me around the lush two-bedroom apartment on the second floor.
“I am,” I admit with a smile.
Shelly and I stand in the gleaming white kitchen complete with Carrera marble and gold cabinet pulls. I glance at the warming drawer and the small wine refrigerator; then, I stare across the small space of the living room and outside to the covered terrace, which hosts its own beautiful view of the grounds of the property, overlooking a nature park and a sparkling lake with a fountain.
“Do you mind me asking what the monthly rent is?” I inch closer to Shelly, talking quietly while Sarah takes her time in the back of the apartment.
Sarah did share with me that her only real requirement was enough bathroom space for her hair stuff. And I hope to God that this apartment, or the one she saw a few days ago, has what she needs because she's planning on going back to her office with a blow-up air mattress tomorrow. She only conceded to staying one more night at my house. But only because I'm adamant she needs oversight for at least one more day just in case of any medical complications.
She's tough, I think. But shedidjust go through a medical trauma, and to be honest, I'd feel more comfortable if I could keep an eye on her for another two weeks.
